The first of her many passions was dance – ballet in fact – but, alas, that was not to be because even at a very young age she was cognisant of the implications of anorexia. Her passion for dance, however, did not abate: each Saturday she can be found in her flat taking salsa lessons with Alejandro.

She is Hungary’s analogy to Mrs. Dalloway in England, Emma Bovary in France and Martha Stewart in America, the consummate and most inventive of hostesses. An invitation to an evening soiree at Vár utca 7 is commensurate with an invitation to Truman Capote’s legendary Black and White Ball.

Kati epitomises Hungarian culture and hospitality. Regardless of the number of guests, they bask in the warmth of her art-nouveau flat, eat the finest Hungarian cuisine, and coif champagne from Törley Cellars in Villeroy and Boch Apricot Champagne Coupes. Like any gracious hostess, she will provide you with the recipe for her pièce de résistance, goose liver. Soak it for 24 hours in milk of any kind, dry it with a Schweitzer linen towel, cook it on each side for 30 seconds, turning it at least five times to create a perfectly charred surface, and then cook it slowly at 175 Celsius and voila.

Surprisingly, given that she lives 162 kilometres from Budapest, ostensibly the most beautiful city in Europe, she would choose to live in Madrid. It, too, is a magnificent architectural wonder, what with the Gran Vía, the Museo del Prado, the Palacio Real, et al. However, it is the people she loves, their warmth, and that they are equally apologetic as Kati about their facility with English. The only downside: the men are known worldwide as bad dancers (Wikipedia).

When asked about her favourite singer, she replied surprisingly, “Leonard Cohen.” Leonard’s vocal range was approximately 4 notes less than an octave, but Kati described listening to him as being wrapped in a cloak of eiderdown. The day would pass like cloud chariots across the sky, and Leonard’s words would take her to rest at the end, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

Kati is facile in several languages – no mean feat, given that Hungarian is the 5th hardest language in the world, and it has all those funny little diacritical marks above the letters. She does find that, whether it be German or English, when she gets animated, she will slip back into Hungarian or her accent will drift. This was most notable when she spoke about her interest in ballet but pronounced it as belly. No more need be said about the matter.

Her Fulbright scholarship took her to New York in the 80s, to the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. She lived in a garret-like walk-up at 61st and 2nd Avenue. (In New York, that would be the size of a closet and rent for 8,000 USD per month). As would be expected, she worked each day from 9 to 6, then went home to study and did rounds on Saturday and Sunday. She is one of the few people who lived in New York who never went to Katz’s Deli, ate cheesecake at Lindy’s or knew where to find the best slice (pizza, for those who assumed that was a SECGT).

She was lonely, as is to be expected, and would call her mom every day. For those who may remember, you needed a phone card to call long distance. Privacy was therefore an issue. The traditional Hungarian parting salutation is puszi or “kiss”. You can imagine what her colleagues thought she was saying as it was invariably repeated several times before saying goodbye.

The conversation came around to European dentistry and the things that needed to be changed. Given Kati’s conviviality, her expansive pool of colleagues and friends, it was not all that surprising to hear her suggest that although all the digital doodads and gewgaws in the world were wonderful addenda to dentistry, it was the need to remember that every tooth is attached to a human being that is essential – they aren’t digital.

The digital train may keep chugging, we may be able to treat patients virtually in other rooms or countries, but we need to touch them, listen to them breathe, see the little eye movements that speak volumes. The most illuminating comment of all, given that this lady has been an educator to thousands, has walked the halls of academia with giants, is looked to by her government for health policy, and can put together a conference to rival the final of the FIFA World Cup – she said the most important thing we must do is treat every patient as if they were “your mother”. Kati sets her own style in so many things, but none so much as clothing. When asked if she had an unlimited amount of money, which of the haute couture houses worldwide would she choose, her answer was simple: her own. Much like all the other things in her life, her unique eye for the nuance holds sway.