Adventures in Magyar Cuisine

***SPOILER ALERT***
This post may not be suitable for vegetarians. Proceed with caution.

Hello again,

I figure it's about time for me to write a post about the food here in Hungary. Someone from home told me they pictured Hungarians eating a lot of lamb. It's not that they DON'T eat lamb, it's just that they eat more pork and goose liver. And pig. Lots more. Lots lots lots more.

I feel I have to use the word pig as well as pork, because when it's cracklings, pig's feet, ham hocks, it gets a little close to the pig to be calling it merely pork.

I jokingly told someone my 90 year old grandfather could move here and be in Hog Heaven. Literally. I'm NOT KIDDING.

Let's face it, is there another European country where they know how to translate the word cracklings into English?

I certainly hope we don't have anyone in our audience who doesn't know what a crackling is, but in case you don't, here's a definition.

Cracklings: noun; cracklings are pieces of either pork or poultry fat trimmings that have been fried until brown and crispy. Cracklings are often incorporated into biscuit or bread dough, scrambled with eggs and onions, used to flavor cabbage dishes, gravies, sauces and other foods.

As far as I know, they always come from pork. When you render lard, you skim the top of it while it's cooking, and those are cracklings. And they are also eaten with sweet potato for those of us hailing from down the Southern Way.

Here is a picture of Hungarian cracklings.

Cracklings at the Market

I had not been here but a few days when I realized how the food situation was in the markets and grocery stores. There is a big indoor farmer's market near my house. From what they have for sale, it was obvious to me that the produce is seasonal but very good. So you might not see everything you are used to seeing in your local HT or Food Lion, flown in from California or Chile, but you're sure to find good fresh local fruits and vegetables. The meat is very good too. The quality of the chicken, pork, and beef all seems quite high.

Here is my local market.

Farmer's Market on Szofia utca

Side View of the Market

And here's a shot of of just SOME of the pig ready for your selection.

Pork Pork and More Pork!

Even MORE Sausages!

The local grocery stores near my house were another matter. I think this might be because I live in a city and the little shops near my house are small, but it took me days and days to find butter. I found every variety of margarine and lard and imitation butter, but no butter. I later learned Hungarians really like to use lard in "traditional" Hungarian food, so, I'm assuming this is where the love of margarine comes in? And the grocery store closest to my house DOES NOT regularly carry butter. I ascertained that and then finally just asked to make sure.

By shopping around I have found grocery stores that sell good butter. I paid $5 for a huge loaf, for lack of a better word, of French butter, just because I knew it would be good and I knew it would last awhile. I have discovered that usually "Mexican" style on canned good means they contain corn. In the US Mexican style typically means it contains jalapenos. So, it's been a learning experience, but all in all a fairly smooth transition. I like the grocery store near my house the best because it combines convenience with nice people and a decent selection, but I have learned if I need sturdy trash bags, and if I want butter, or paper towels that aren't so flimsy you can use a roll during the preparation of one meal, I have to walk a little farther away. It took a little getting used to but I think I'm almost there.

My first story comes from the first week I was here.  I like to call it. . .

Dead Man's Hands
When I first arrived here I developed a terrible terrible cold, and I spent my first two weeks in Budapest coughing and hacking and a third week still weak, although recovering, but using my asthma inhaler like mad.

I decided I needed some really good chicken soup to help me. I decided to go to the market and buy a chicken and cook it up to make broth and soup.

At this point I knew only two words of Hungarian, hello/goodbye (which I count as one word since Hungarians use the same to say both hello and goodbye) and thank you. I managed, by pointing, to acquire a whole chicken, and I got it home.

The first thing I always do with a dead bird is pull out the insides. In the States the liver and lungs are usually stuffed inside it. I opened the package and the butt end of the bird was facing me, so I stuck my hand inside (always the goriest part of dealing with a chicken) and pulled out----what?  Two hands?

Dead Man's Hands

They look shockingly human don't they? I sent my Dad an email and told him, no, I had not stolen the mummified hand of St. Istvan from the Basilica here in Budapest.

My mom told me including the hands is how you know it's a good chicken. Well, this one looks like she could have climbed the Empire State Building and then maybe taken on the Chrysler Building next.

Well, I thought that was it. I took a snapshot, dumped them into trash, but little did I know. . .another surprised awaited me.

The second thing I always do to a whole chicken is wash it off. Remember, the butt was facing me. I picked it up to stick it under the running water, and I got pecked!

Dead Chicken

Yes, the head was still on it. I shrieked and dropped it down on the paper, where it landed eyeballs up, as you can see. I called my mother to ask her what to do. She said, "Well if you buy a chicken at the farmer's market it has a head on it." That's all well and good, but I had now encountered a task more disgusting than sticking my hand in a chicken's butt, which was severing its head. Mom said, "Just put a dish towel over its head and chop it off!" I had been in the country two days, and I didn't own a dish towel. So I grabbed a big wad of paper towels and started to sever.  UGH.

Can I just say, I've cooked three chickens since I've been here, and that part doesn't get any easier. It is very good chicken, however.

Here is a picture of my soup.

Hungarian Chicken Noodle Soup

My next food tale is a little less grisley. It's called I took some pictures at the Alexander Bookshop Cafe.

The Alexander BookShop Cafe
The Alexander is an amazing bookstore in Budapest, that is three stories high not including the bathrooms in the basement. The top story houses a gorgeous cafe that has a delicious trout mousse.

I should probably mention here that Hungary is land locked, for those of you not up on your geography. So, you don't necessarily find the fresh seafood here that you would find in say, North Carolina. Local seafood tends to consist of trout, perch or pike, or as they will often translate it Pike Perch, catfish, and carp. More on that later. The second night I was here I ate a wonderful grilled trout in a cafe on Liszt Ter, but I was so sick and confused at that point I can't remember which cafe it was. It was served with roasted parsleyed potatoes and was delicious.  And yes, I have a picture so you'd think I would know which cafe it is, but half the cafes in Liszt Ter have black rattan chairs with orange blankets.

Restaurant in Liszt Ter where I Ate Trout

My friend Thomas tipped me off that the Alexander had good trout mousse, so I was happy when it started raining on me one day and I had an excuse to stop off there and try it. Lucky me that I was just passing its doors when the downpour started.

First, I should start by showing the pictures of the ceiling and the walls of the Alexander. They are covered with beautiful paintings and gold trim, and there are mirrors that reflect other mirrors and that reflect the chandeliers. It's hard to believe you are doing something as mundane as having a snack in a bookstore cafe. You feel like you are in a church in Florence.

Ceiling at Alexander Bookshop Cafe

Chandeliers at the Alexander

Mise en Abyme

Yes, the German couple next to me thought I was trying to take their picture. I couldn't believe in a place that gorgeous, where every other idiot was taking pictures right along with me, they would think I wanted THEIRS.  :)

Here is my espresso and my watermelon lemonade. They aren't cheap, but the good restaurants here usually make good lemonades.

Espresso and Watermelon Lemonade

Espresso Closeup

Isn't that cup and saucer neat?

Now here's the trout mousse. It's so good! They serve it with freshly toasted seed bread, frisee that has been drizzled with a tiny bit of olive oil, and freshly sliced tomatoes. It comes in a jar topped with capers. YUM.

Trout Mousse at the Alexander

As you can see, this shot was taken after I dug in.  :)

I must say, I know you are all probably thinking, "Wow, Melinda gets to eat at cool bookstores like the Alexander." Yes, I do, and yes, they are cool, and yes, it's a fun experience. But things are always better with someone you love. The trout mousse made me think of my Dad and Uncle Hilton, both lovers of tuna fish salad, pickled herring, and the like. Dad, I ate that meal wishing you were by my side. Uncle Hilton, I thought about you too.

I am going to finish this post off with two more short episodes.

Jacques Pepin's Beef Stew with Red Wine
First, I decided to make Jacques Pepin's Beef Stew with Red Wine. I had been here a few weeks and we'd had about three solid weeks of rain. I was stir crazy, wanting something hot, tired of cooking for one person so desirous of something that would result in leftovers.

I was using a sub parr Hungarian translation web site at that point in time, and needed to buy a flat iron steak. The man at the meat counter had NO idea what I was ordering. I thought maybe I had pronounced it incorrectly, so I whipped out my trusty little sticky note where I had written it down and displayed it for him, but he just shook his head. He said, "Beef?" and I finally nodded and said, "Beef for goulash."  After all, isn't goulash beef stew of a sort? He picked up a big chunk of beef and showed it to me and I nodded. What do I know? It looked stewable.

The recipe also called for pancetta. If I had read it more closely, I would have realized Jacques wanted the pancetta to make lardons, and I would have skipped that. I could do without lardons on my beef stew. Plus, you'd think old Jacques would know lardons are closer to fried pork rinds than to fried pancetta.

The lardons took me back to Lyon where I visited my friend Julia a few years back, and to the delicious Salade Lyonnaise. There are some things I don't eat, raw eggs being one of those things. But when you are in France, you can safely veer off the normal path, and trust that they will make it delicious. There is still nobody in the world that can cook like the French, at least in my book.

Just for fun, here is a Salade Lyonnaise. It's frisee topped with a soft fried egg and lardons. You stir the egg up really quickly and eat it, and it's out of this world. Yeah, I never thought I'd be singing the praises of a runny yolk, but there you have it.

Salade Lyonnaise

So anyway, I decided that bacon would pass for pancetta, so I went to the next stall and ordered "szalonna." This time I got it right because the man who had allowed me to struggle over the word for chicken---"csirke"---a few days earlier, gave me a big smile, as if to say, "You have arrived!"

Here is what I ended up with.

The beef. . .

Anybody Know what Cut this Is?

And the bacon. . .

They Call it Fat Back Don't They?

I sort of forgot that bacon never translates well into any language. You'll get something off the back of the hog, but whether it will be fatty, or the leaner cut we Americans are accustomed to calling "bacon" is anybody's guess. No, I did not use it for my beef stew, but I have kept it (it's well smoked and I can tell it'll last forever) and when I have cooked beans I have cut off the teeniest tiniest sliver and have used it to season the beans. It works quite nicely.

Ket Szercsen
For those of you who are going "EEEWW GROSS" I would be doing Budapest a huge injustice if I did not mention the name of the best restaurant in this town. It is Ket Szerecsen, which is pronounced like Kate Sarah Chen. It is absolutely divine. Someone told me it is the only restaurant in this town that has never disappointed them, and I can say I've found that to be true.

Here is their web-site.
http://www.ketszerecsen.hu/

I have eaten everything here from traditional chicken noodle soup to tapas including lamb patties and pita, from lentil salad to ceviche, from veal chops to roasted rabbit, and a lot of other less interesting sounding things in between, and everything was absolutely delectable. If any of you out there visit me, I'll take you there. And if you come to this wonderful city on your own, be sure to stop by. It's one block over from Liszt Ter where the lesser restaurants are.

For Melinda's Further Adventures in Magyar Cuisine keep reading. See you on the other side.