MARTIN F. DOWNS

Zwack Unicum has replaced whiskey as my favorite drink. That's a powerful testimonial to the appeal of this strange Hungarian digestif, for not long ago I would burn through one bottle of scotch, bourbon, Irish, or Tennessee whiskey every week.

Years ago, back in Chicago, I drank quite a bit more than that--at least a pint every night before bed--because I was convinced that doing so was "good for the blood," and because I had read that Churchill drank a quart of whiskey every night. If he could carry a nation to victory over the Nazis on that much booze, I could certainly proofread eight hours a day on less. But then I wondered why every morning I threw up in the toilet before walking out the door.

Ever since I returned from my honeymoon in Budapest, I have not brought home one bottle of whiskey. The Unicum has dulled my taste for it.

Unicum has the consistency and color of deli coffee left on the warmer all day. Its smell and flavor are much more pleasant, but only once you get used to it. It is an acquired taste, and if you're going to pick it up at all, you will do so quickly.

The first sip you ever take sets your palette screaming, "No! This is not for you!" But if you press ahead and finish the glass, you will be glad you did. A warm sensation fills your body; and whereas the palette protests, the gut takes a liking to it immediately. It snuffs heartburn and mollifies a grumpy colon better than any pharmaceutical I've tried.

The taste, after you recover from the initial shock, can be described only as kaleidoscopic. Vapors of various herbs and spices emerge and give way to one another like changes of scene in a dream. All the while, the subtle underlying flavor is that of anise.

You are not drunk after the first glass. Rather, the effect is mildly narcotic.

I thought I might try an experiment to see whether there is codeine or some such thing in Unicum. My plan was to go to the drugstore and buy one of those kits parents use to test their kids for drugs. A concerned mom is supposed to sneak a few strands of hair from her child's brush and mail it to the lab for chemical analysis. The lab sends back a report stating that Johnny has been smoking this or that. I figured I might send them a bag of hair soaked in Unicum and see what they could make of it.

I did not attempt this experiment, however--not for lack of initiative, but I was afraid the lab might actually find something. Then I would have to report it here, and I didn't want to get Zwack in trouble.

The recipe for Unicum has been a closely guarded Zwack family secret for centuries. The first Zwack on record, a personal physician to Hapsburg emperor Joseph II, concocted the potion in 1790 to ease the emperor's indigestion. Legend has it that upon tasting the brew, the emperor declared: "Das ist ein Unikum!" Or, loosely translated, "This sure is odd!"

In 1840, one Jozeph Zwack began bottling the famous digestif. It became so popular as to be named the national drink of Hungary.

Then, after the communist takeover of the country in 1948, Janos Zwack, president of the company, smuggled himself across the border into Austria "sitting on his shooting stick under an upturned barrel in a Russian truck, the Unicum recipe in his breast pocket," according to family historians. The state seized the factory in his absence, and began bottling a beverage they called Unicum, which of course was not Unicum, for the recipe now resided with Janos in New York City. The Zwack family filed a successful international lawsuit against this trademark infringement, and the Reds were made to cease and desist.

The distinctive Unicum bottle, which looks like a cartoon bomb labeled with a gold cross on a red field, vanished until the "winds of change" began to buffet the Eastern Bloc. In 1990, Janos' son Peter Zwack returned to Hungary, and much to the delight of old timers and a new generation alike, resumed production of Unicum.

It's not easy to find Unicum Stateside. Most liquor stores do not carry it. I know of only one, in Manhattan, that does: Park Avenue Liquor on Madison between 40th and 41st. Nevertheless, a savvier and more patient shopper might find another. To find out the name of your regional distributor, if one exists, you can contact Zwack: export@zwackunicum.hu.