A fierce battle of alcoholic conquest has been fought for centuries on our territory
—Vintilă Mihailescu, Ethnogenesis and Țuică.
When I set off on this project, I would tell folks that I wanted to study the social and economic role of palincă in rural Romania. To me, palincă was the Romanian name for the brandy that is made all across the country from plums, apples, pears, peaches, apricots, or whatever grows most abundantly wherever you are. I was quickly corrected: no, you want to study țuică. But it seemed like everywhere I went, people called it palincă. Or sometimes rachiu. Or sometimes horincă. What was I getting wrong? Clearly I had no idea of the lexicographical minefield I was stepping into, nor was I aware of the geographical allegiances that would be stirred up by my choice of words when I asked folks in Romania about making moonshine.
What is the difference between țuică, palincă, horincă, and rachiu? I have now asked this question to dozens of people and I have never gotten a consistent answer. Usually, the first thing people say is, oh it’s all the same thing. Then, when I press a little bit, they will concede that, ok, there is a difference between țuică, at least, and all the others. Generally speaking țuică is only distilled once. That means that true țuică retains more of the flavors of the original mash (which Romanians call vin, or wine). It is also lower proof, and a bit rougher on the palate. Fewer congeners have been stripped away by the distilling process, and so while it tastes more of the underlying fruit, it also may retain some notes of burning plastic, rubber tires, or turpentine.
Palincă, horincă, and rachiu are all double-distilled. With more of those off-alcohols and esters removed, it is a bit smoother, and definitely stronger. Parsing the difference between the three is more complicated. After again initially insisting that it is all the same, folks tend to default to the geographic explanation: it depends on where you are in the country. The etymology of palincă derives from the Hungarian pálinka. Horincă comes from the Ukranian horilka. Rachiu from the Serbo-Croatian rakjia, Turkish raki, and Arabic araq. So, it is likely that your name for the double-distilled, stronger spirit is determined at least in part by whichever foreign neighbor is closest.
Here in the middle of Transilvania, I seem to be in the palincă/rachiu border zone. When I ask about making palincă no one bats an eye, but when they talk amongst themselves they tend to call it rachiu. Mostly. Not always. When I ask why, people usually say, oh palincă is up north. Closer to the Hungarian border.
Țuică, however, is the only word whose etymology is uniquely Romanian. While Romania has fought with Hungary to the north and Croatia to the south over the right to use the words palincă and rachiu respectively, țuică is unquestionably its own. Perhaps this is why despite the acknowledged fact that it actually is a different product, țuică is often used as an umbrella term for all Romanian distilled spirits. It reminds me of growing up in Tennessee, where all soft drinks were Coke.
Hey Emelie do you want a Coke?
—Sure.
What do you want?
—I’ll have a Sprite.
But unlike a brand-turned-generic (Band-Aids, Chapstick, Tupperware, I’m looking at you), țuică isn’t a marketing ploy from a savvy corporation. It is a signifier of Romanian national identity. In a country where the language is a mix of Latin, Dacian, Slavic, Greek, and Hungarian influences, etymology means something. None of the country’s neighbors are fighting Romania over use of the word.
So, while țuică may represent the unifying national spirit, the splintered ethnographic history of the Romanian nation is reflected in the factionalism of its alcoholic landscape. Transilvania, as I said, may be considered a buffer zone between north and south. Or maybe my interlocutors simply don’t want to go on the record trash talking their fellow countrymen. Whatever the reason, they are reluctant to say that either the once-distilled or twice-distilled spirit is superior. They usually answer the question with a sort of “to each their own” shrug. But no distiller I have met in Transilvania stops at țuică. Țuică is what you put into into the kettle for the second boil.
As Vintilă Mihailescu writes, the national spirit is a spirit divided:
Northern Palincii (strong, double distilled, around 50-60 degrees) and Southern Tuicii (weak, around 25 degrees). For the North, southern brandy is "rubbish": "It's not brandy that isn't boiled a second time and isn't at least 50 degrees" - protested a serious lady from Deleni. For the south, palinca destroys the flavor of brandy and is a drunkard's drink. As we can see, these two "Romanians" do not understand each other even to this day; maybe it would be better to negotiate their differences over a glass of Coca-Cola.
—or a Sprite.
I’m loving learning alongside you. Actually, I wish I was alongside you!
I know that bourbon and whiskey are different too, but this discussion reminded me of that.