Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2: Unicum, But Make It Plum

Sylvia Fonalka
Nov 19
9 min read

Updated: Nov 28

Liquor : Apéritif or Digestif / Cocktails | Hungary | Website

👩‍🍳— Jump to recipe, but fair warning: you’ll miss all my brilliantly unnecessary (and deeply entertaining) ranting.

Unicum is Hungary’s most iconic herbal liqueur—one of those tonics so intense and aromatic that, after a single sip, you genuinely forget whatever it was you were trying to fix.

Legend has it that when Dr. Zwack, physician to the Imperial Court, first presented the elixir to Emperor Joseph II - ruler of the Habsburg Monarchy and, for better or (mostly) worse, Hungary’s benevolent overlord back in 1790. The emperor took a brave sip and proclaimed, “Das ist ein Unikum!” History, ever gracious, insists on translating this as “How unique!” rather than the considerably more believable, “Good heavens, is this what the Hungarians have been plotting to serve me?”

The company, known today as Zwack & Co., emerged from this bold experiment remarkably well and has survived nearly every plot twist history could devise: World War II, the Soviet occupation, nationalization, and even the forced emigration of the Zwack family. In 1989, as the Soviet Union collapsed and Hungary transitioned to a democratic republic, the family returned, reclaiming both the brand and the legacy that had been wrested from them. Their comeback restored Unicum not just to the shelves, but to its rightful place at the heart of Hungarian culture.

Today, the company even boasts its own museum in Budapest, where visitors can explore the history, heritage, and traditions behind this iconic Hungarian spirit: unicumhaz.hu

All photo credits: https://zwackunicum.hu

Made with more than forty herbs and aged slowly in oak, Unicum tastes like someone bottled a witch’s garden with a dash of old-world herbal know-how: invigorating, a little mysterious, and just alarming enough to feel medicinal. Hungarians adore it. They drink it before dinner, after dinner, and anytime life calls for a little courage or an impromptu party.

The plum version, Unicum Szilva, introduced in 2012, acts like Unicum’s slightly friendlier cousin. Then, in 2020, Barista Unicum arrived, clearly created for anyone who has ever wished their morning coffee and their evening digestif would join forces in one gloriously eccentric bottle. Most recently, in 2025, the brand unveiled Unicum Orange Bitter. I haven’t tasted this one yet, but honestly what could possibly go wrong when you combine citrus, herbs, and centuries of Hungarian confidence?

And then there’s Unicum Riserva - arguably the show-off of the family - aged twice: first in one rather legendary cask, then again in another, as if it couldn’t possibly limit itself to a single moment of greatness.

Beside it stands Unicum Trezor XO (Extra Old), a limited-edition, ultra-premium expression that spends a full decade resting in oak before getting an extra polish in French wine-spirit barrels. The result? A rich, layered flavour profile with hints of vanilla, tropical spice, oak, and chocolate, all wrapped around those forty-something herbs we’ve already met. It’s indulgence dressed as medicine, and no one’s complaining.

If you visit Hungary, someone will offer you Unicum. Say yes. Smile politely. Pretend your throat isn’t staging a small revolution. You’ll earn instant respect; and possibly a second shot you didn’t ask for.

Unicum Plum

For this recipe, I’m using Unicum Szilva, the plum-infused jewel of the Unicum family. The Hungarian plum - so woven into the country’s cooking and preserving traditions - turns out to be an unexpectedly graceful match for a liqueur whose roots stretch back more than 230 years.

The base formula stays sacred, of course. The same generations-old herbal recipe, the same slow ageing in oak casks, nothing about classic Unicum is altered. Instead, Szilva simply adds another layer. First, it rests on a bed of prunes, taking on a round, dark fruit softness; then it returns to the casks, where everything settles into something smoother, lighter, and quietly fruit-forward.

It’s unmistakably Unicum, just with a slightly gentler presence—34.5% alcohol and carrying itself with the calm, polished confidence you’d expect from a spirit with this much history behind it.

Let’s Talk About the Recipe and the Ingredients

There’s something about duck legs - the richness, the depth of flavour - that makes them my undisputed favourite. When “duck” appears on a menu, I don’t so much decide as surrender. I close the menu, smile, and say, “The duck, please,” with absolute certainty and no regrets.

We really ought to cook duck more often.

Duck legs are almost impossible to mess up—honestly, they’re one of the most forgiving things you can put in a pan. A little salt, a little pepper, some heat, and suddenly you’re turning out something that tastes like it wandered straight out of a Michelin kitchen.

If only our grocery stores reflected this magic. It’s one of Canada’s quiet culinary injustices: a country bursting with ducks and geese, yet most supermarkets offer barely a hint of them. The glorious exception, of course, is Québec, where the duck section is a thing of beauty.

We once visited a farm on Île d’Orléans, just outside Québec City, the Domaine Sainte-Famille, a family-run vineyard, cider house, and all-around flavour haven. They make cider, maple treats, wine, cheese and raise ducks. Wandering through felt a bit like opening a Québécois treasure chest. The island is often called the “cradle of French America,” and its history goes all the way back to Jacques Cartier’s arrival in 1535. Many French Canadians can trace their roots to those early settlers-people who, judging by the place they chose, clearly had impeccable taste.

While we were there, we almost got to try the famous foie gras poutine from La Roulotte du Coin in Sainte-Famille. I say almost because we ordered one portion—just to “sample” it. Then looked away for what could not have been more than three seconds. When we turned back, the foie gras had disappeared. Vanished. Poof. Just the potatoes remained, looking back at us with tragic, greasy resignation and a little embarrassed.

I will not name the culprit, of course - she is terribly sensitive - and besides, she maintains it was simply “some chewy thing” and has no idea why we reacted like a tiny culinary disaster had just unfolded. To be fair, she did eventually blossom into a responsible, fully fledged gourmet adult - but at the time, her palate was still in its unruly adolescence and entirely unprepared for the sanctity of foie gras.

Back to the duck, shall we! Duck is both exquisite and nourishing: rich in protein, high in iron, and abundant in heart-friendly omega-3 and omega-6 fats, it’s a dish that delivers comfort and elegance in equal measure. Choosing duck isn’t merely a culinary indulgence; it’s a small act of well-being, beautifully disguised as dinner.

Duck pairs wonderfully with sweet accompaniments of every persuasion—think plump cherries, caramelized figs, bright citrus, or even a silky fruit reduction that makes the whole dish feel celebratory; and of course, plums.

This vibrant, spice-laden baked plums brings depth, balance, and a bright thread of acidity to rich roasted duck legs, creating a dish that’s as polished in flavour as it is striking on the table. The addition of Unicum, especially the szilva (plum) variety, adds an even deeper, more intriguing layer of bitterness and sweetness, making the whole dish feel wonderfully complex and unmistakably special.

When a touch of sweetness sneaks into one of my main dishes, especially anything rich or meaty, I quietly set the potatoes aside and call in the parsnips. Their earthy sweetness purées into something silky and balanced, the kind of side dish that gently corrects the entire plate.

The first time I made parsnip purée, I immediately began questioning my life choices. How on earth have I - and frankly, most of humanity - been eating more potatoes than parsnips? Parsnips are more flavourful, lower in calories, higher in fibre and vitamin C, and ridiculously easy to prepare. I urge you to give them a try. (My apologies to potatoes, but someone had to say it.)

Roasted Duck Legs with Red Wine Jus, Unicum Plum Compote & Parsnip Purée

Serves 4 | Prep time: 30 min | Cooking time: 2 hours

The plums

500 grams / 1 lb plums, preferably with crimson flesh
250 ml/ 1 cup red wine
110 g / 1/2 cup brown sugar (or more if you like more sweetness)
1 cinnamon stick
5-10 cloves

Preheat the oven to 160°C / 320 F.
Halve and pit the plums, then place them in a roasting tin large enough to hold them in a single layer.
Arrange the pitted and halved plums in a baking dish cut-side up.
Pour the wine over the plums, sprinkle with brown sugar and add the spices.
Bake until tender (about 20 minutes).
Keep the plums covered and reserve the juices to make the red wire reduction (see below).

The duck

4 duck legs
6-8 garlic cloves
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
5 sprigs rosemary (optional)
60 ml / 1/4 cup chicken or vegetable stock or water

Preheat the oven to 180°C / 360°F.
Season the duck legs generously with salt and freshly ground black pepper, ensuring even coverage.
Add a 50 ml / 1/5 cup chicken or vegetable stock or water to a heavy roasting pan or Dutch oven.
Arrange the duck legs, skin side up, in a single layer. Nestle in the rosemary sprigs and garlic cloves, allowing their aromatics to infuse the meat as it cooks.
Cover tightly with a lid or foil and roast for 1 hour, until the duck is tender and the fat has rendered. Remove the cover and continue roasting for about 20 minutes, or until the skin achieves a deep, even golden crispness.
Transfer the duck to a platter and keep it warm until assembly. You can either discard the aromatics (garlic and herbs), or add them to the wine reduction if you’d like a deeper, earthier flavour.
Carefully strain off the rendered duck fat and reserve it for the red-wine reduction (see below).

The red wine reduction

Duck fat from rendering the legs (see above)
Jus from the plum compote (see above)
125 ml / 1/2 cup red wine
60 ml / 1/4 cup Unicum Szilva (plum)
1-2 shallots, minced
30-45 grams / 2-3 tablespoon cold butter
1 tbsp sugar or to taste
Salt to taste

After cooking the duck legs, use the rendered fat to sauté the finely chopped shallot until soft and lightly caramelized.
Deglaze the pan with the red wine, scraping up any browned bits (fond) from the bottom of the pan.
Add the jus from the plum compote along with the Unicum Szilva, sugar, and salt. Simmer until the sauce has reduced by at least half and thickened.
Pass the sauce through a fine sieve, pressing the shallots firmly with the back of a spoon to extract all their liquid. Return the strained sauce to the saucepan.
Whisk in the cold butter at the end, then simmer the sauce over medium heat for another 5–10 minutes to achieve a glossy, rich finish.
Taste, adjust the seasoning, and serve immediately.

The parsnips purée

450 g / 1 lb parsnips, peeled and cut into 3 cm / 1-inch chunks
1 garlic clove, smashed and peeled
250 ml / 1 cup milk or half-and-half cream (12- 18%)
30 g / 2 tbsp unsalted butter
3 g / ½ tsp salt or to taste
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Place the peeled and cut parsnips, salt and garlic in a medium saucepan with the milk/cream. Bring to a boil over medium heat, then reduce to a gentle simmer. Cook for 12–15 minutes, or until the parsnips are very tender when pierced with a fork.
Add the butter. Purée to perfection by using an immersion blender, blend until completely smooth and silky. If you don’t have an immersion blender, use a food processor or blender for the smoothest result.
Taste and adjust seasoning as needed: Stir in the salt, a few grinds of black pepper

To serve

Arrange the roasted duck legs on warm plates and spoon over the glossy wine-and-Unicum reduction. Add a generous spoonful of the spiced baked plums alongside, letting their syrup mingle with the sauce. Finish the plate with a cloud of parsnip purée for balance and contrast. Serve immediately, while everything is fragrant, tender, and irresistibly warm.

Wine pairing suggestions

This dish calls for a wine with enough structure to stand up to the richness of duck, enough acidity to cut through the sweetness of the plums, and enough aromatic depth to play nicely with the Unicum’s spice and herbal backbone.

1. Sicilian Reds (Nero d’Avola, Cerasuolo di Vittoria) - $/$$

Bold yet bright, these wines offer dark cherry, spice, and just the right amount of earthiness. Their acidity balances the duck fat while their fruit echoes the roasted plums.

Ideal match: Cerasuolo di Vittoria DOCG, a juicy, elegant, and not too heavy, a vibrant, spicy, cherry-forward, and incredibly duck-friendly.

You can read my post about this wine here!

2. Hungarian Reds (Kékfrankos & Bikaver) - $/$$

Following the What grows together, goes together culinary principle, these are great thematic and delicious choices:

Peter Wetzer Kékfrankos, 2022

You can read my full post about this grape and its winemaker!

Kékfrankos (aka Blaufränkisch) brings spice, acidity, and red berry brightness that complement the sauce’s herbal and plum notes.

Heimann & Fiai Szekszárd Bikavér 2022

It's a modern reinterpretation of the classic Bikavér (Bull's Blood) blended with a high percentage of Kékfrankos, a key grape of the region, combined with other varieties like Kadarka, Merlot, Cabernet Franc. The wine is known for its vibrant red fruit notes, nuanced spices, and balanced character.

3. Pinot Noir - $$/$$$

Pinot Noir practically flirts with duck. Choose one with a bit of forest floor and bright red fruit. The subtle herbal notes also weave seamlessly into the Unicum-infused sauce. Personal recommendations: a classic Burgundy or something elegant from Alto Adige.

You can read my post about the wonderful region of Alto Adige here.