(source: Image courtesy of D.S.)
Dusan Stevlik is a native of Bratislava but grew up in Germany after his parents fled communism. Inspired by his grandfather Jozsef’s career as a smuggler and slivovica salesman, he began selling Jozsef Stevlik Kosher Slivovitz, a plum brandy common in central and eastern Europe. The drink has won several silver medals at drinks competitions in London and New York.
You were born in Bratislava but left Czechoslovakia at a young age. Can you tell me about that experience?
I immigrated when I was seven. My parents and I went to Germany under the pretence of a holiday, packing just one suitcase. It was against the laws of the Communist state at the time.
How did you manage to get over the border?
My mother had good connections; she was a hygiene inspector for gastronomy in Bratislava, responsible for checking standards in hotels and restaurants. Initially, we intended to return after our holiday, but they grew disillusioned with the system and sought a place where they could develop more freely. For me, that meant losing connection with my grandparents, which was hard.
Let’s discuss your grandparents, particularly your grandfather. You mentioned he was involved in smuggling?
Yes, Jozsef Stevlik was a smuggler on the Orient Express. At that time, the train system functioned almost like a supermarket, with people travelling from places like Poland and the Baltic states, trading everything from umbrellas to household goods. For instance, Polish women would travel down to Istanbul, while others would traverse the routes from Vienna to Ukraine or Romania.
So, it was harder for authorities to track these transactions?
Exactly. While trade was forbidden, the most prohibited aspect was dealing in US dollars or German Deutsche Marks. You could exchange goods for added value—if you travelled to Romania, for example, you could bring back silver rings for profit. However, converting those goods into money was risky; being caught with US dollars could land you in jail.
Your grandfather specialised in selling slivovica - or as you call it, slivovitz - didn’t he?
Yes, he focused on plum brandy, known as slivovitz in the West. At the time, one litre was worth around $10, which was significant. He would take it to Budapest, selling it in bars or at markets, often connecting with foreigners, particularly Americans and the English, who would pay a premium for it.
He was born in 1910 in Nové Zámky, then part of Austria-Hungary. He served in the army during his youth and was involved in the resistance against the Nazis, where he developed his entrepreneurial skills.
At that time many small farmers cultivated fruit trees and made plum jam, saving excess fruit to produce slivovitz, similar to how moonshine was made in America. However, under communism, access to high-quality products was limited, and they were often of poor quality. Like today, there was a demand for handcrafted, quality items.
How did your grandfather operate in this environment?
His skill was in locating private individuals who produced excellent slivovica, sourcing it from them and blending it himself. But his true talent lay in sales, particularly reaching Westerners who had more money. Over time, he became known as the go-to person for high-quality slivovitz among Western travellers.
Connecting with people was challenging, due to communication technology being what it was, so many would find him at train stations. Bratislava's station was ideal for exchanging goods, while Budapest's Nyugati and Keleti stations were key trading hubs. Vienna’s Hauptbahnhof was tricky due to its location outside the Iron Curtain; real business thrived once items became hot, starting at the border crossing to Bratislava.
Westerners were also part of the black market, bringing in items like cigarettes and transistor radios that were unavailable behind the Iron Curtain. They needed someone who could buy their goods with Czechoslovak currency, creating a two-tier trading system: exchanging money and trading goods.
