Buda Baby: Food and drink

Almost defeated by soy sauce

Thu, 15 Nov 2007 02:51:15 GMT

After 11 months, Zoli and I are pretty slick about finding things we want and need in Budapest. I know where to find Indian spices, I know where to get arborio rice, and I know where to find guava juice. While these things aren't exactly common here, I can obtain them now with little skin off my back. Because Zoli and I are foodies, we make it a point to find out these kinds of things. The funny thing (to us) is that people who have lived in Budapest since God was a child now ask US where to find things! We've come a long way since our first depressing days in downtown supermarkets, and our lengthy search for clothes hangers!

This is why, when I ran out of soy sauce the other day, I didn't think anything of it. I go through soy sauce pretty quickly, and usually buy more at the Azsia store in the basement of the central market. The Rothschild near our house also carries the brand I like, so I never anticipated that soy sauce would some day become a product that would stump me.

Until the other night. Zoli and I were getting ready for a late-to-all-nighter with an engineer and a designer we've been working with. To provide some fuel, I went to Rothschild and stocked up on a lot of veggies and chicken in order to make a big batch of stir fry. Once I started prepping everything, I realized I was out of soy sauce, so I asked Zoli to run over to Match, the closest supermarket, to pick up some more. I needed it right away in order to marinate the chicken.

Zoli returned relatively quickly with a bottle of Heinz soy sauce. I didn't even know Heinz made soy sauce, so once I got everything marinating, I gave it a taste. Then, I promptly spat it out and started gagging and hollering. This stuff might be labeled "soy sauce," but it is not soy sauce. "Sugary, syrupy, liquid shit" would be a more apt label. It was VILE. I can't even think about it now without puking a little.

Wondering what made it taste so bad, I looked at the list of ingredients. Normal soy sauce has just a few ingredients: soy beans, wheat, salt, and water. The Heinz brand contains what I technically call a "crapload" of ingredients, meaning, it contains a lot more stuff than soy beans, wheat, salt, and water. Unfortunately, the label didn't have English on it, so I figured I would consult the Heinz web site. Not a single reference was to be found there. My conclusion is that Heinz realized they had a horrible product and tried to dump it on a market that doesn't consume a lot of soy sauce anyway, and therefore wouldn't know the difference.

Well, Heinz, I know they difference, and you should be ashamed of yourself for selling this swill. I had Zoli call Daniel, the designer, to ask him to pick up a bottle at Rothschild on his way to our house. The marinated chicken would just have to taste like crap, but at least I could use a decent soy sauce in my Molly's Special Stir Fry Sauce. We gave Daniel specific instructions to buy either Pearl River Bridge or Kikkoman soy sauce, both of which I have seen at the store before, and neither of which are filled with garbage ingredients. A short time later, Daniel called because he couldn't find it. I described where to find it in the store, and still no dice. Soy oil was in stock, but not soy sauce. We even talked to the store manager, but it turns out they had run out of soy sauce.

It was around this time that I figured I was screwed. I started stomping around the house huffing that "FINE. I'll just use this Heinz garbage. The stir-fry will taste like crap, but NONE of you has a sophisticated palate ANYWAY. I will just eat bread." There's nothing like fighting words and failure, however, to push Zoli into action, and he started calling up nearby grocery stores to see if they had anything in stock.

I mean, Kikkoman, guys, come on! This is about the most common soy sauce on the planet. I've seen this in grocery stores here before. This should not be an issue. But, alas, it was. Either Budapest has fallen in love with soy sauce en masse and has bought all of it out, or stores just don't stock much of it thinking that no one will buy it anyway. One store had SOLID (?!?!) soy sauce in stock, in a box, from FRANCE. WTF????? Maybe it is good, but I already had one disgusting soy sauce in my house and didn't want to take a chance on another unknown entity.

At this point Zoli decided to leave the house and try to find some, even if it meant a trek all over the city. He found Daniel on the way out and the two of them went on the mission together, while meanwhile Gabor, the engineer, showed up and the two of us starved to death in abject martyrdom for over an hour.

Finally, Zoli and Daniel showed back up with a small bottle of Kikkoman in one hand and a bottle of white wine in the other. I commenced cooking (I really need a wok, should any of my family be reading this and wondering what to get me for Christmas), and we were soon devouring bowls laden with rice, chicken, bell peppers, carrots, zucchini, garlic, ginger, crushed red pepper, onion, toasted sesame seeds, and my secret sauce.

The old saying says that good things come to those who wait. In Hungary, I think a more apt saying is "through suffering, there is pleasure." Whichever old saw you go by, the stir fry turned out alright and we all had seconds. Still, I haven't felt defeated by lack/difficulty-in-finding an ingredient in about six months. Soy sauce, I can't believe it was you.

Technorati tags: Cooking, Budapest, soy sauce

I ate a gizzard

Mon, 29 Oct 2007 00:11:06 GMT

You know, you watch enough Anthony Bourdain going on about the "nasty bits" and "the good stuff" and sooner or later you, a non-innard-eating kind of gal, begin to wonder if you are missing out on something. While I admit to the occasional predilection for sweetbreads, I steer clear of tripe, kidneys, liver, lungs, etc. Just not my bag, baby.

So I was as surprised as anyone when today, at Zoli's grandma's birthday celebration, I ate a chunk of gizzard, on purpose. A gizzard, for those of you not up to snuff on your avian biology, is the organ where food gets ground up inside the bird before passing further along into the digestive system. It's a muscle-y little organ, and, I have to admit, is rather tasty -- very concentrated meaty/chickeny flavor and a not-disgusting texture. I would have it again.

Celebration meals are always a big hoopla in Hungary, sometimes going on for hours. [On a side note, Zoli's family members are not what you'd call big wine drinkers. I ask you, what is the point of scoring a European husband and moving to Europe, only to join the only family on the bloody continent that could take or leave wine?!?! They are really not fitting into my fantasy of Euro-living. ;-) ] With Zoli's family, such meals usually take the following format:

Soup: We always start with soup. A rich chicken broth is served (sometimes with pasta in it, sometimes with pasta on the side so you can add your own). A plate of cooked orange and white carrots are passed around separately so you can add them to your soup. White carrots are a big deal in Hungary; I've yet to see them in the U.S. They look just like regular carrots, but are white. Apparently they are the roots of parsley. I used to think they were parsnips, but this is not the case. Maybe it's just a Magyar thing? Eros pista, a fiery Hungarian hot sauce, is optional; I like a good dollop in my soup.

Mains: After the table is cleared of empty soup bowls, out come the mains and veggies. Since about 20 or so people are in the family, more than one person usually brings something. Today Zoli's grandma made stuffed pork ribs, and I brought a roast pork loin, which I had slathered with garlic, thyme, salt, and Dijon mustard before cooking. We also had broccoli, corn, mashed potatoes, and rice, and I brought a mixture of roasted new potatoes, carrots, fennel, and onions (which I cooked in the same roasting pan as the pork). Since I don't often get a chance to cook for the family, I was happy when they asked for my recipes. Now I just have to get to work on converting American recipe measurements to metric ones!

Desserts: What Zoli's family lacks in love for wine they make up for with love for sugar. Today was on the light side with only two humongous cakes (one chocolate and one walnut). At Christmas, there are countless cakes and pastries and sweets, and, and, and! Everyone had at least two pieces (after all, you have to have one of each!), and some had three or more!

Fruit Salad: After dessert, things start to get uncomfortable, and I surreptitiously loosen my belt. This is when gallons upon gallons of fruit salad are brought to the table. Like dessert, everyone usually has a couple of helpings. Zoli's grandma, bless her, made a special batch just for me because of my cherry allergy. The rest of the bunch had a fruit salad that was positively bursting with sour cherry goodness.

And then come the snacks: With a full belly and a head aching from trying to follow conversations, I'm usually ready to nap at this point, but the rest of the family is just hitting its conversational stride. To fuel the conversation even more, snacks begin appearing with some regularity. Today it was bowls of peanuts and homemade cheese sticks.

Whew! Another meal to remember.

Technorati tags: Family, food, celebration

Finding Home in Food

Mon, 15 Oct 2007 17:22:14 GMT

Homesickness is a weird thing. I don't long for home, I don't miss it, and I don't particularly want to move back or be there. (I don't NOT want to either. The point is simply that I am not pining for home.) For me, homesickness takes a more specific form. For example, I'd like to go into the bistro around the corner just before they close the kitchen and order a burger and shoot the breeze with the bartender. I'd like to browse in my old bookstore, which let the neighborhood dogs come in, too. Sometimes I miss New York, a city where I've never lived, simply because it has so much vitality. Every now and again, I miss hearing English -- no, scratch that -- I miss being surrounded by English and understanding what's going on all the time. About a month ago, I missed chili and football. I don't even like chili or football, but it was one of the first crisp fall days the likes of which I haven't felt since growing up in Ohio. My parents would spend Sundays with the games on, and sometimes my mom would whip up a batch of chili. These were lazy days, great to put on a thick pair of socks and a snuggly sweater, and do nothing in front of a roaring fire in the family room.

The other night, a few friends came around for dinner. We'd been planning this dinner for a couple of weeks. Since these friends are wine lovers too, we had invited them to come over to try some of the wines we brought back from Italy. I put together a menu based on Biba Caggiano's Biba's Taste of Italy, one of my favorite Italian cookbooks. In addition to some simple antipasti, I made turkey breast stuffed with spinach and parmesan, sweet and sour onions (basically onions cooked in white wine for half an hour, and then glazed in a two-vinegar and brown sugar reduction), and crispy roasted potatoes with sage, rosemary, and pancetta. I planned this whole thing strictly with Italy in mind, not thinking one wink of home.

And yet, some unconscious thoughts of home must have crept into the meal. Laci, Eniko, and Sara had been hiking during the day, and by the time they got to our place, the sun was setting and the temperature was dropping rapidly (with our current cold front, temps are around freezing at night right now). Once coats were removed, everyone came into the kitchen to see what was cooking. Taking a look at the roasting turkey and inhaling deeply, Laci commented that the meal "felt like Thanksgiving." It dawned on me then that here was another thing I was missing even though I hadn't realized it: comfort food and the camaraderie of friends getting together on a cold evening, good music playing in the background, and easy companionship.

Technorati tags: Food, Friends, Home

Say what you will about mothers-in-law...

Wed, 29 Aug 2007 12:43:46 GMT

After all, I suppose there is a reason they are the target of so many stand-up comedy jokes.

Despite being her own breed of wacky, my mother-in-law defies stereotypes. She likes me, she is not interfering, and she does not butt into our lives to mother her only child. (Being brutally independent from birth, Zoli probably wouldn't stand for that anyway, but still, the point is she is not one of those kinds of mothers-in-law.)

What my mother-in-law (hereafter known as "my MIL" in web abbreviation parlance) is, is a phenomenal gardener. She's in her mid-60s and cultivates about an acre of terraced hillside more or less by herself. She has a grape arbor, fruit trees, berries, and lots and lots of vegetables. I don't think she's as keen on flowers, but those that she does grow flourish under her care. Unless she is playing with children, I don't think anything makes her happier than being outside weeding, pruning, and harvesting.

All this gardening means we are the recipients of much of her bounty. For the past month or so, she has been dropping off a bag per week of fruits and vegetables. (In a way, I feel like I am cheating on my fruit-and-veg guy at the market!) The past few weeks have brought us peaches, grapes, peppers, and tomatoes by the arm-full. I estimate that we've been averaging three kilos per week of tomatoes. (For those of you on the western side of the Atlantic, one kilo is 2.2 pounds, or a hell of a lot of tomatoes.)

Food writers often go on and on (often in ridiculous detail) about how tomatoes fresh from the garden make their socks roll up and down in delight. I've always thought this was a bit of hooey, because I figured tomatoes from my local farmers' market guy should logically be just as good as those from anyone else's garden. In point of fact, my MIL's tomatoes actually are better. They are sweeter and juicier, much, much more red, and the tomato meat to seeds-and-goop ratio is more pleasing. (Tomato seeds and goop make me gag.)

This bumper crop of tomatoes has resulted in a lot of cooking around my kitchen. So far I've come up with four different kinds of pasta sauces, we've eaten our weight in Greek salads, and I've made a killer spicy tomato soup. I'm going to try Joanne Harris's tomato tart recipe next (for a picture, scroll about 1/4 of the way down this blog post - doesn't that look delicious?!?). We also have a bowl of cherry tomatoes on the kitchen counter, and pop them in our mouths throughout the day. Roasted cherry tomatoes also make a pretty tasty side dish.

In Hungary, cherry tomatoes are called cocktail tomatoes. I love that.

I leave you now with a little public service announcement: Guys, eat your tomatoes. The Happy Days with the Naked Chef cookbook says that "research shows that eating 10 portions of tomatoes per week can reduce the risk of prostate cancer by up to 45%." The Naked Chef a.k.a. Jamie Oliver points out that a serving is two tomatoes and that you likely get more than that from a Bloody Mary.

Technorati tags: mother in law, tomatoes, cooking

One of the Best Wine Regions You've Probably Never Heard of

Tue, 07 Aug 2007 13:25:28 GMT

Have you ever heard of the Ahr? Unless you are German, a German wine connoisseur, or from Benelux, Singapore or Japan, I would bet dollars to doughnuts that you haven't.

[I've never used that phrase "dollars to doughnuts" before. What the heck does that mean? Am I getting to that age where people start using whacko phrases?]

Though I love many wines from Germany, I hadn't heard of the Ahr either, until just a few weeks before Zoli and left for our trip to Berlin and driving around Germany. Since we were flying home from the Köln/Bonn airport, I suggested that we spend a day or two exploring Germany's wine regions, which stretch more or less from the center of Germany's western border to the southern part of the border. (They are inward from the border, but around there.) We'd been to the Rheingau, and were curious about other regions.

During my research, I read about the Ahr, Germany's northernmost wine region. At 560 hectares (1,250 acres), it is also one of the smallest. What really excited me about the Ahr was that Spätburgunder (pinot noir) is grown there. We'd tried a few before and loved them, but they were from a different region. As it turns out, pinot noir from the Ahr can rival some of the best from Burgundy.

Unfortunately, it proved difficult to find much tourist information in English online, so we turned to our German friend Achim, one of the partners of Nectar Wine Lounge in San Francisco, a place we frequented so often when we lived there that we referred to it as our living room. Achim pointed us to a few wineries known for excellent wines, and we were able to take it from there to set up appointments with J.J. Adeneuer in Ahrweiler and Jean Stodden in Rech/Ahr. On Achim's recommendation, we also had lunch at the Hofgarten related to wine producer Meyer-Näkel (who we also popped in on after lunch to pick up a couple bottles of his Frühburgunder). Many, many thanks to Achim for all the tips!

Visiting a winery in Europe is usually a bit of a production, often lasting an hour and sometimes longer if you tour the caves. It is much more intimate than wine tasting in California in that you may meet with the winemaker him- or herself, you will taste many different wines and vintages, you may be served some little nibbles, you will learn about the history of the winery and its methods of production, and you will also learn about the region. Sometimes there is a fee for all of this (though usually waived if you buy wine), but the knowledge gained is invaluable if you are passionate about this kind of thing. J.J. Adeneuer and Jean Stodden were no exception, and we tasted countless wines with these two informative gentlemen. Fortunately they had spit buckets, or we would have been passed out underneath the tables about halfway through! (When tasting a lot of wine, it is best to spit the wine out so that (a) you don't get completely hammered, and (b) you can still taste the differences between all the wines. That said, you will want to swallow some of the wines in order to taste their finish, especially if you find a wine truly beautiful upon tasting it. I didn't spit nearly enough at J.J. Adeneuer and wound up with a splitting headache by the time I left. :-( )

It was at the Adeneuer cellar that we tried our first Frühburgunder, which is a mutation of pinot noir that is harvested earlier than Spätburgunder. Apparently there is another mutation that is harvested late in the season as well (this is not a late harvest dessert wine; late harvest in this sense simple refers to to time at which the fruit is harvested compared to other wines). Pinot Noir is known as a very difficult wine to grow. It has a thin skin, so it is very susceptible to damage, and it is also finicky about where it is grown. Frühburgunder is even trickier, and only 130 hectares are grown in all of Germany.

We learned plenty from Mr. Stodden, too. We were very interested in knowing how the Ahr can produce red wine, let alone such beautiful red wine, at such a northern latitude. To put it in perspective, it is at about the same latitude as southern Canada. Several factors make this possible:

First, the soils are mostly slate, but also graywacke and volcanic, which retain heat.
Second, the Ahr river and the Eifel mountain range create the warm yet moderate microclimate ideal for pinot noir.
Finally, because the region is so far to the north, the days are long, but the sun is not so intense as in France's Burgundy region. Therefore the grapes are coddled in consistent warmth throughout the long days, and enjoy the cool nights that pinot likes so much.

Mr. Stodden also taught us a bit about the market for Ahr wines. Only 5% of his wines are exported (to the Benelux countries, Japan, and Singapore), and 95% are consumed in Germany. Of the wine sold in Germany, it is mostly restaurants that buy it, but also some private buyers. I would guess that these figures are similar for other producers, as wine production in the region is quite small. We also discussed how the German palate is changing; he thinks this in large part due to higher quality and more sophisticated food being served in restaurants. Around 15% of customers look for high quality wines at restaurants, a percentage that has grown over the past 15 years. Also, whereas most German consumers want young wines, the Ahr's wines are best aged. Of the wines I tasted, I would say this is particularly true of Mr. Stodden's wines, which are quite acidic young, but I think excellently constructed.

We brought home a case of wine from our trip, and our two real scores included a 2004 Spätburgunder produced from 100-year-old vines (not clones), and a bottle of 10-year-old Alter Trester (a "grappa" made from pinot noir grapes). We'll have to age the 2004 a bit - it is a very special wine and deserves it - but I am looking forward to sipping the Alter Trester after dinner when the weather turns cold.

Before I wrap up this post, I have just a few words about food and lodging in the Ahr:

It is an expensive region. Located near some of Germany's richest cities, wines and nice accommodations don't come that cheap. There are many gasthaus-type places to stay, but we found them to be of not-so-great quality for the price. After a lot of driving around and asking questions, we finally found the Hotel Lochmühle, a perfectly nice hotel at only 65 euros.
Restaurants close early. Head out for food early unless you want to be stuck with pizza five villages away from where you are staying.
Though we didn't try it, Mr. Stodden recommended Steinhauer as an excellent restaurant and most famous in the area; he said it is manned by one of Germany's top chefs. I'm having trouble finding English information about this online, so if anyone knows anything about it, please share your information.
The Hofgarten Meyer-Näkel (pictured above) was great, and served delicious, typical local cuisine. I had a goulash with spaetzle and Zoli had - well, it tasted better than it sounds - bread topped with wild boar meat and fat. The restaurant has a comfy, flower-filled courtyard, prowled by the world's fattest cat. Too bad I didn't get a picture of it; I think he/she has sampled a quite a few local specialties from sympathetic customers!

Two things I forgot to mention above that I wanted to say:

Stodden makes only 500 - 600 liters (666 - 800 bottles) of the 100-year-old vine wine that we bought, so we are very excited to have it.
All the grapes in the Ahr are picked by hand. Since they are grown on steep, steep hillsides, it wouldn't be possible to use any machinery. This is another reason why the wines are pricey.

Technorati tags: wine, German wines, Ahr, Spätburgunder, Frühburgunder, travel

A Trip to the Market

Thu, 12 Jul 2007 16:46:03 GMT

Zoli's mom and I disagree about which market is the best. She goes to the one on Lehel ter, near West End mall. I go to the big central market. In fairness, her market is pretty good; I've been to it a couple of times. However, I really prefer mine. It is more conveniently located for us, for one thing, and I think it has better vendors, too. What was intimidating to do six months ago, I love now. Going to the market is fun if you are a food geek.

So what do we do on a typical trip to the market? Our first stop is nearly always our fruit and vegetable stand. We've been going to the same one since our first trip to the market. The prices are pretty good (if you are buying what's local and in season), the owners are friendly, and they have a good variety of stuff. Zoli and I are not the only ones who like this stand. We've seen restaurateurs buying fruit here too, as well as demanding housewives.

Watermelon is in season now and people are mad for it. It's called görög dinye here, or "Greek melon." [I'd always thought that watermelon was from the Americas, but it turns out that it originates from southern Africa (at least according to Wikipedia). Not sure why it's called "Greek."] You can buy a whole melon, or the fruit-and-vegetable monger will cut it down to size for you.

This is the second half-a-watermelon that we've bought this week. I'm going to use part of this one in a salad of cubed watermelon, crumbled feta, and arugula. We had a salad made from these ingredients in Greece at Kuzina, and the three were outstanding together, tossed with a bit of olive oil and balsamic.

After we finished with the produce, we went to our usual next stop, the retes (strudel) stand. It was really busy, so we decided to pick up bread and cheese before trying again. We love our bread stand. They sell about 20 different kinds of bread. We usually get wellness kenyer, a whole grain bread. Right now Zoli is addicted to a brown bread with nuts in it, so we got that instead (here it is in my kitchen). They also sell lots of different kinds of zsemle (rolls). My favorite is topped with cheese and pumpkin seeds and then baked.

The dairy and cheese stand we go to is a zoo. There is always a crowd there, and you have to jostle your way to the front. Let me tell you, the old ladies in Budapest are craftier at getting to the front of a line than passengers on a cruiseship at the chocolate extravaganza! Because they are so busy, the attendants don't have any time for chit-chat. You better know what you want when you finally get waited on, or you will lose your place quickly! Today we picked up feta and trappista cheeses and some yogurt. We recently found out that they also sell excellent olives, but we forgot to buy some.

Back at the retes stand, things had calmed down a bit. While the ladies who run this place are by no means the friendliest people in the world, they know what they are doing. For about a dollar (damn you, dollar, damn you!!!), you can get a huge, hearty piece of retes, sprinkled with powdered sugar if you'd like.

They sell all different kinds: Curd cheese (kind of like cottage cheese, but more solid and much tastier), Apricot with curd cheese (my favorite), Sour cherry with curd cheese (Zoli's favorite), dill with curd cheese, pumpkin poppy seed, apple poppy seed, sour cherry poppy seed, apple nut, apple cinnamon, sour cherry apple, sour cherry, plum sour cherry, cabbage, and potatoes. The cabbage one, by the way, is intended to be eaten sweet, with sugar on top. Gag. (Zoli says it's good.)

<--- A shot of the baked goodness that is retes!

We always get a slice each and eat it standing right there.

Fortified, our next stop is always in the basement of the market. One of my favorite little shops in Budapest has turned out to be a crowded, dingy little shop. Theoretically it sells Asian foodstuffs, and that it does, but it also stocks other things like Italian pastas, olive oils, dijon mustard, and vinegar. This is where I buy all of my spices and other odds and ends, but today I needed only linguine and coconut milk (I'm making a Thai green curry with seafood.)

Finally, our last shop is the fishmoger, also on the basement level, to pick up prawns. I found this stand a few months ago when I had a stomach bug and was madly running around the market trying to find a damn bathroom. While it wasn't a promising introduction, the guy has good, fresh seafood. And by seafood, I mean real seafood, from the sea. (Being land-locked, "seafood" in Hungary is usually lake-and-river food.) Today being Thursday, our guy had a lot of new fish in, and the lazac pisztráng (salmon trout) looked phenomenal:

It was from Norway, and the eyes were still crystal clear, and the gills that bright red that tells you the fish is really fresh. We weren't planning to make fish, but this was just too good looking to pass up. I'll have the curry tomorrow and grill this tonight instead with some lemon juice and parsley sprinkled on top.

One last thing to show you. Have you ever seen tuna milk?

That's what tonhal tej means. Apparently it is some gunk that comes from the inside of a female fish. I wonder what you do with it?

Update! Zoli researched what "fish milk" is. To find out, click "Read Comment." Interesting stuff. ;-)

Technorati tags: central market, Budapest, shopping, food

Youch! Lukacs Cukraszda, Home of the $3.50 Espresso

Wed, 11 Jul 2007 10:23:55 GMT

As the dollar sinks lower against the Euro and the forint, I convert every last price to monitor just how far - or how NOT far - our savings will take us. So it was with some consternation that Zoli and I left the equivalent of $16.40 at the re-opened Lukacs yesterday for two espressos, one pistachio danish, one pogacsa (little biscuit-like thingies that can be made with potatoes, cheese, and other savory things), and one vanilla pastry. People who come to Budapest for the supposedly cheap prices should think again. (Now, if you are coming for cheap beer, that's another story.)

$16.40!!! That's 3000 forints, and included a pretty small tip. At those prices, I didn't want to shell out much more for gratuity, even though the service did rock.

To put this price in perspective, the same thing would be about half the price at our regular kavehaz. In fact, two courses of lunch for two people would be less! And in San Francisco, Zoli and I would often have two cappuccinos and two pastries in the morning for about 2/3 of the price. And those weren't crap pastries either; these were from a good French bakery. Sorry to digress, but God I miss French bakeries.

In fact, it was our yearning for French pastries that led to our economic downfall at Lukacs yesterday. You see, it had been closed earlier this year (rent was too high, then it got new management, then it was being renovated) and we noticed that it had opened back up. Naturally we had to stick our heads inside and check it out, and our eyes were drawn immediately to what looked like ---- no, it can't be!!! ---- real croissants. I haven't seen a real croissant since I was in France in February.

We wavered. We could see that the prices were high, but then again, Lukacs is gorgeous inside, it's next door to what are going to be half-plus million dollar apartments, and damn, those French pastries looked fantastic. We ordered; you only live once. Then we decided to order espresso too, not knowing the price. We knew our bill was going to be expensive, but we were still surprised by how much when the waiter brought it to our table.

Sigh. The pastries are just too delicious to scratch Lukacs off my list, but I think it will have to be a place of occasional indulgence. The decor is beautiful, the service is stellar, and the sweets are fantastic. If only the prices were a bit lower, or if I was a bit, no a LOT, richer, I would be there every day.

Technorati tags: Lukacs Cukraszda, Budapest, pastries

We'll miss you, La Fontaine

Mon, 09 Jul 2007 08:40:52 GMT

When Zoli and I first moved here, we soon tried a French bistro near our apartment called La Fontaine. I immediately reviewed it over on my Restaurant review page (gave it a 9.5 out of 10) and was completely enamored by the restaurant, the food, and the very charismatic owner.

I have to say that I use the word "bistro" loosely. While it looks like a comfortable Parisian bistro, the food and prices were anything but your standard bistro fare. La Fontaine was not a cassoulet kind of place; it was really haute cuisine. Except for that silky onion soup. Oh my God, dreams could be made of that stuff.

In all honesty, we didn't go to La Fontaine all that much - just four times in total over six months. The first time we went, the owner sat with us after the restaurant closed and we sipped Armagnac with him for hours. We found out later his girlfriend wasn't pleased, but she was very friendly to us when we met months later and laughed along with us over the story.

Ever since that first time, we were greeted like old friends when Bernard was in the restaurant. Some of the other staff were a little iffy about it, acting as if they did not want to seat late-night diners like us, but Bernard always had a big smile and seats for us. He was a natural and gracious host.

Last week, as we were wrapping up our travels, we received an email from Bernard that he had closed La Fontaine after 10 years. This came as a surprise, even though we knew business was hard. We had just been in the restaurant a few days before we left, and no one had said a thing.

Our thoughts turned to speculation: Were the prices too high? The food too fancy? Could Budapest sustain that many high-end restaurants? Did the government's austerity measures cut into his business that much? I certainly don't know the reasons, but I do know that we will deeply miss one of our favorite places. We'll have to fly to Paris to get the next best thing.

Technorati tags: dining, La Fontaine, restaurants

Hats Off to Huba!

Sun, 24 Jun 2007 18:01:05 GMT

I have to say it, Budapest is just awesome for nightlife. There are so many things happening on any given night that it actually becomes a problem to decide what to do. Take Friday night, for example. We wanted to go to another BUDSUCS English-language comedy night, but as it turned out, we had reservations for the Szeremley Huba (Szeremley is the winemaker's family name, and Huba is his first name; Hungos do the whole last-name-first thang.) wine-tasting dinner at the elegant Corinthia Grand Hotel Royal.

Which we almost missed.

Because we were working, for pete's sake.

If you know us, or if you read this blog for some reason, then you know that it has been many, many moons since we've last really worked. Over the past couple of months, we (particularly Zoli) have been working on a New Idea. My involvement has picked up pace more recently, and right now our living room is a mess of flip charts, white boards, sketches, and napkin notes. (It's really stylish.) Things are starting to come together, I'm getting more excited, and Zoli and I were in the midst of a hot work-jam session when we realized - OH SHIT! - that the wine tasting event had started half an hour ago. And it was kind of a fancy thing, as you can see from the picture below, so we needed to clean up a bit too.

Fast forward (I'll spare you the swearing and running around), we arrived right in time for the start of the dinner and were seated with a friendly bunch of foodies/winos (and I mean that in the most positive sense) from Switzerland, France, England, and Germany, about half of whom spoke fluent Hungarian (dammit).

Mr. Szeremley is a wine producer from near Lake Balaton, which is also known as the "Hungarian Sea" (ha ha ha), and is also the largest lake in all of Central Europe. The soil there is very mineral-y, which results in wines that I like, and the whites from the area can be quite good. As can some reds, as we found out.

Anyway, I give you the dinner menu, (along with editorial asides, because apparently I can't stop with the (parenthesis)):

Foie Gras and smoked Herring Sushi, served with a Jelly of Soya Sauce and Pink Ginger Paste
Badacsonyi Rajnai Rizling 1997
(I was surprised to like this, as foie gras is not at all my thing. This appetizer was innovative and interesting, and I didn't gag on the foie gras at all. Due to a mix-up, Zoli and I had the 2005 and not the '97.)
John Dory Fillet topped with a Compote of Onion Saffron and served with a Bouillon of Mussels
Badacsonyi Rajnai Rizling 2005
(The fish was chewy and didn't taste all that fresh, but the rest was good. We had the '97 with this. For a 10-year-old riesling, it still had a surprisingly bit of zip, but the 2005 was brighter, fresher, and more delicious.)
Duck Galantine accompanied with a Ragout of Celery and Peach, seasoned with its own Jus
Badacsonyi Kekfrankos 2005
(The ragout was delicious. The galantine was not to my taste because it had the appearance and smell of canned cat food. However, those at the table who like that kind of thing pronounced it wonderful. Kekfrankos is a type of Hungarian red wine. In my opinion, this was the only "eh" wine of the night.)
Blue Cheese Pithivier served with Ruccola Salad and Gooseberries Dressing
Badacsonyi Syrah
(In a word, "wow." First, the salad was great. It was served on a big plate in a triangular presentation with the blue cheese pastry on one side, the ruccola on another, and the gooseberries on another. The contrasts of tastes (savory, spicy, bitter) and textures were terrific together. The syrah was big and fruity, but not in the American fruit-bomb style. It was smooth, fruit-forward, and let you know who was boss without beating you up about it. My favorite wine of the evening.)
Chocolate Fondant with Raspberry Mousse
Badacsonyi Zeus 2005
(I take it back. The syrah WAS my favorite wine of the evening, but that was before we had this luscious dessert wine. You could stick my head in a bucket of this late harvest wine, drown me, and I would be happy. And the dessert wasn't bad either.)
Coffee, Tea or Tisanes
Petits Fours
(Yummy all, but we had a surprise treat here of a palinka/grappa from Mr. Szeremley.)

By the time we toddled out five hours later, we figured it would be a good idea to walk home to clear our heads and get our digestive tracts moving. Not a bad way to end the week!

Technorati tags: wine, Szeremley Huba

So, I had lunch on Indonesian soil today...

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 14:07:03 GMT

Alas, we didn't catch a great fare to Bali and take off on the spur of the moment. Rather, Zoli saw a little blurb on Index.hu that the Indonesian embassy in Budapest hosts lunches every Friday from noon till 2:00 p.m. At 1000 forints for three courses, the lunch is a steal and is pretty delicious to boot.

They have maybe 10 tables set up, and people are invited to sit wherever you can find room. There is no menu; you simply sit and the food will begin to appear, served by a friendly trio of women. As far as I can tell, there are also no vegetarian options, so I wouldn't advise Veggies to go either.

However, if you want to try something different, eat in interesting surroundings, meet new people, and NOT pay through the nose for it, this lunch really cannot be beat. We'll definitely be back. Index did mention that when they went, the crowd seemed to be mostly English speaking. That didn't seem to be the case when we went today.

Papaya Sushi & Tempura Restaurant

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 09:25:28 GMT

Seemingly a weird name for a Japanese restaurant, no? According to the chef/owner, it means "friendly" and "ya" is used for house in Japanese, so you will often see "ya" tacked onto the end of the names of Japanese restaurants. Curious, I did a search in an online English-Japanese dictionary and could not confirm this explanation, but I'll give the guy the benefit of the doubt anyway. Afterall, he is Japanese and I am not, so who am I to argue?

Papaya is located on Kepiro utca, a little street on the edges of 5th district about a block from Kalvin ter. I first mentioned Papaya a few weeks ago when Zoli and I first stumbled across it, and vowed to go back and try it. Well, last night was the night.

One thing I have to explain about Papaya is that there isn't much to it that would invite you inside. There's a tiny sign on the outside, with a menu near the door. What got us to go in the first time is that the menu was, well, almost unintelligible. We really could barely tell what was on offer, and what was there was packed with spelling mistakes. Personally, I don't think this is a bad thing, because it could mean that the focus is on the food and not a slick dining experience. That said, if you were just causally happening by, the menu does nothing to lure you in unless you are the curious type.

The restaurant itself is in a vaulted cellar and has a sushi bar, a tempura bar, and a bunch of tables. The chef has been around - born in Japan, he has worked in Tokyo, then London for 12 years, and then at the famed Fuji restaurant here in Budapest. Papaya seems to be a labor of love for him, and he has a passion for Japanese food that he wants to share with others. He is a friendly, talkative, and gracious host.

I'm not sure how long we stayed (sake will do that to you), but we ate enough fish to feed a walrus at a marine park. Putting ourselves completely in the chef's hands, we started with a round of mixed sashimi. Sashimi is my test of all sushi restaurants, because it is simply slices of raw fish. You can tell immediately how fresh the fish is, if the chef knows how to select good fish, and whether he knows how to properly handle it. If the answer is negative to any of these points, there is little reason to continue with the meal, in my opinion. Happily, the sashimi was great. It was by far the best we've had in Budapest (we've tried three: Fuji, the horrible place on the Duna, and a little place in Obuda), and it wouldn't be out of place in San Francisco. The platter consisted of salmon, two kinds of mackerel (one Japanese and one European), and some very small, very sweet prawns. Encouraged, we went on to try octopus and scallop sashimi. Both were good, and Zoli loved the scallop one. I agree it was good, but eating a raw scallop goes against my usual handling of shellfish, so I was a little squeamish about it.

One thing Zoli misses about San Francisco is creative sushi. Many of the chefs there invent crazy combinations of stuff, and squirt different kinds of sauces on and around the serving platter. I am more of a purist, but we've had some great stuff - the Marilyn Manson roll at Deep Sushi comes to mind. So, Zoli explained what he'd like and the chef came up with a couple of rolls for us: one with salmon and one with the Japanese mackerel. It wasn't quite what we were after, but they were good and he did give us a spicy sauce that got hotter and hotter in the mouth.

Since this was our first time dining at Papaya, we wanted to try everything, so we then moved over to the tempura bar. The chef first made a tempura prawn for us and then put it in a sushi roll, which was delicious. It was covered with tobiko, which I ordinarily despise, but it also had that hot sauce squirted all over it and was probably my favorite roll of the night. We tried a similar preparation with a tempura scallop. Finally, we had a bit of vegetable tempura with green and white asparagus and a slice of taro root.

During all this time, we were the only ones in the restaurant, other than the waitress and the myriad of her friends that stopped by the restaurant to say hello throughout the meal. This by no means lowered the level of service, by the way, which was pretty good throughout the night. As we prepared to pay, two separate couples did come in to eat, and I do hope they liked it as well and will spread the word. Like other very good places in Budapest, it is strangely too empty.

Prices on the menu are low on the surface, but if you eat and drink as much as we did, it adds up. The price of all of the food above, four sakes, and a pot of green tea came to about 22,000 forints. The restaurant adds a 10% service charge.

Mangalica Lunch

Mon, 21 May 2007 15:11:14 GMT

Zoli's parents joined us for lunch at our apartment on Sunday, their first social visit to our place since we moved here. (They spend most of their time these days at their house in the country, and when they are in Budapest, they usually invite us to their apartment.) Zsuzsanna and Zoltan were a culinary challenge. They almost never eat at restaurants, preferring to eat at home instead, and they also almost never eat anything besides Hungarian food.

I didn't want to make Hungarian food because I thought it would inevitably lead to comparisons amongst the family's different versions of whatever dish, and also, when you are surrounded by Hungarian food, it doesn't seem all that exciting to make it at home. Granted, they aren't the kind of people who want something exciting, so I thought something simple and French might be a happy medium. (As a side note, I find a lot of parallels between French and Hungarian cooking methodologies.) I wound up deciding on roasted pork tenderloin with green lentils and a mustard cream sauce for our main course.

The dish is quite tasty: first, you make slits all over the tenderloin, and then stuff slivers of garlic, lemon zest, and sage in the holes. Then you wrap the whole thing in bacon and cook it in the oven for about half an hour. As a nod to the Hungarian side, however, I mixed it up in two ways. First, I used Mangalica pork, which comes from an indigenous, free-range, furry pig with curly hair. The meat is low in fat, rich in flavor, and has the kind of good cholesterol that helps to fight against bad cholesterol. Second, I took the advice of the butcher to wrap one of the tenderloins in stomach membrane rather than bacon before cooking it. Guys, STOMACH MEMBRANE. I think this is proof that I am acclimating. Here's a picture of the pork getting ready to go in the oven:

The stomach membrane came in a frozen wad, and the butcher said to put it in a bowl of warm water to use it. Once defrosted, the whole thing untangles pretty easily, and I wrapped it around the pork with no problems. It was almost like a net. It is also re-usable. After cooking, I balled it back up and stuck it in a zippie bag in the freezer. The butcher says it can be used two or three times.

The verdict? We compared the two preparations around the table to mixed results:

Zoli - Loved the stomach membrane version. The meat was soft and juicy, and the flavor was rich.

Zoltan - Couldn't really tell the difference. Liked them both.

Zsuzsanna - Liked the stomach membrane version better.

Me: Liked the texture of the bacon version better, but the flavor of the stomach membrane one better. The texture of the bacon one was a bit firmer and dryer; I thought the stomach membrane version was almost too tender.

We're Going to Have to Detox After All This

Sat, 19 May 2007 10:32:31 GMT

I'm not sure whose butt we kissed, but a few weeks ago we received this fancy pants invitation in the mail, inviting us to a launch party for Dunhill Fine Cuts cigarettes at the Four Seasons Hotel (Gresham Palace). We knew the evening would include food, wine, cigars, jazz, chocolate, and cigarettes, but we had no idea what we were getting into.

We arrived almost an hour late (for practical, not fashionable reasons) and were greeted by a gaggle gorgeous women identically dressed in burgundy cocktail addresses. Upon checking our names on the guest list, we were led through a salon to the left foyer of the hotel, which had been blocked off and set for a formal five-course dinner for around 100 people. I had been expecting passed appetizers, so this was a welcome surprise. With the amuse bouche, it was actually six courses, and there was also a chocolate buffet after dinner. And wine pairings with each course. And oh, did I mention, the British American Tobacco Company also brought in Sergio Mei, the head chef for the Four Seasons Group, from Milan to prepare this meal. Mr. Mei described each course as it was presented (all of which was impeccably orchestrated). The menu was as follows:

Amuse Bouche - Not sure what this was exactly, but it had a mussel in it and it was delicious

Appetizers - Composition of Asparagus with Truffled Goose Liver and Fresh Salad, Seasoned with Balsamic Cream and Parmesan Cheese (This was a cool dish. The chef used both green and white asparagus, served both in spears as well as in a layered mousse-like thingie. The parmesan was flattened and formed into thin rounds and then baked. Thomas Keller of the French Laundry does something similar.), Served with Rajnai Rizling Reserve, Villa Tolnay Csobanc 2004

First Course - Carob and Hazelnut Flour Home-made Fettuccine with Olive Oil, Chili Pepper, Fresh Sweet Onions and Candied Cherry Tomatoes, Served with Barat Szikla, Szent Ilona Somlo 2005

Fish Course - Bread Crusted Roasted Turbot with Fennel Puree and Olive Oil Infusion Flavored with Tobacco, Vanilla, and Lemon, Served with Barat Szikla, Szent Ilona Somlo 2005

Meat Course - Roasted Duck Breast with Chopped Black Olives, Capers, Oregano and Provolone Cheese, Black Truffle Potato Mousse, Served with XY Cuvee, Demeter Csaba Eger 2002

Dessert - Gratin of Strawberries and Rhubarb with Vin Santo Zabaglione, Mint Cherry Soup with Extra Virgin Olive Oil and Tobacco Ice Cream

The chef explained that with this dinner, he created a marriage between Hungarian and Italian cuisines. Certainly there were elements and ingredients from both cuisines, and all of the dishes had a lightness to them. We completed our dinner satisfied, but not uncomfortably full, and were treated to so many wonderful tastes. The candied cherry tomatoes and the tobacco ice cream were standouts for me.

Following dinner, the salon was re-opened and there were chocolate desserts and fondue, a bar, a jazz band, and a cigar station serving four or five different kinds of Dunhill cigars. Packs of Dunhill Fine Cuts (the luxury cigarette they are introducing to the Central and Eastern European market) were on tables throughout the room for people to try.

I can't imagine what this party must have cost British American Tobacco, but the guest list was full of people from different Budapest luxury parties. (Our invite came because we went to the World of Luxury Ferrari party a few months ago.) Two people from the company were sitting next to us at dinner, and we had an interesting conversation with them about tobacco and what makes Dunhill cigarettes unique. They also asked us some probing questions regarding our opinions about smoking and the tobacco industry. I'll leave it to you to imagine our California responses.

It was such an extravagant event that I wished I had brought my camera. There was a professional photographer there, so if I find some pictures online next week I will post links to them. The guy took about 500 pictures of me; I guess I was having a good hair day. :-P

The weekend of gluttony is continuing... we went to a gourmet market near our house this morning and picked up some bluefin tuna, some North American scallops, and some prawns from Mozambique. The fishmonger swears we will never eat other prawns again after tasting these. We're also getting ready to go to the Etyek Wine Festival for the afternoon, and Zoli's parents are coming over tomorrow for lunch. I'm preparing a roasted garlic soup for this (simmering on the stove right now and making my mouth water like one of Pavlov's dogs), pork tenderloin with green lentils and a mustard sauce, and tarte tatin. I'll have to post tomorrow about the pork; it's an interesting story.

Someone remind me again why I wanted to move to Europe?!

Some pics from the little market this morning:

Top Five Values that You Can Learn from Wine Corks

Thu, 10 May 2007 14:15:02 GMT

This post is the result of more than seven years of in-depth research. In early 2000, my then-boyfriend-now-husband and I moved from Virginia to San Francisco. Within two hours of the city, you can visit hundreds, if not thousands, of wineries. This proximity to California's multitude of wine growing regions started us on the path to becoming Cork Dorks. In its simplest definition, a cork dork is essentially a wine geek -- a person who is passionate about wine, who talks about wine, who waxes nostalgic about wine, who reads about wine, who bleeds wine. I'd like to expand this definition to also mean that a cork dork collects the corks of the wines he or she drinks. We are so protective of our collection that we moved it with us to Budapest from California!

Zoli's and my collection contains more than 845 corks. When I first heard of the Top 5 Group Writing Project on the hilarious At Home in Rome blog, I thought I would go through my corks and pick my Top 5. Maybe I would choose a cork for its beauty. Maybe for its uniqueness. Maybe because of a memory. As I looked at each cork, however, I found that I was attracted to certain corks for what they represented, and I was surprised to notice that my favorite corks symbolized the values that I find important. 845 contenders became 18 finalists, which became five winners and one honorable mention.

With no further ado then, I give you my Top Five Values that You Can Learn from Wine Corks:

Perseverance
This cork was twisted and strained almost to the breaking point, showing that if you don't give up, you will be rewarded.
Creativity and Thinking Outside the Box
When I first set up my flower boxes, I was dismayed to find that the brackets did not properly fit on my balcony. Luckily, my cork collection offered the perfect sized solution!
Adventurousness and Trying New Things
Life is infinitely enriched by being open to new things. You will never know what something is like unless you try it.
Laughter
Puns may not be the highest form of humor, but this cork shows that the winemaker is not afraid to poke fun at himself or at his customers. This cork is from a bottle of Smoking Loon, and the "WHOOH WHOOH WHOOH COUGH WHOOH WHOOH WHOOH" cracked me up the first time I saw it.

Alternately, it's never a bad idea to quit smoking!
Tolerance
Check your prejudices at the door. Just because a wine has a screwcap does not mean it is a bad wine!

Honorable Mention: Love and Friendship
What is life without love? I'm a romantic, and love for me is as much a part of life as is oxygen, so I don't need to be reminded of its value. However, some people need to be reminded that love is something special, so if you are one of those people, this one's for you! I've had this cork for a little over two years. It's a vintage Veuve Clicquot Grande Dame, a gift from a friend in honor of Zoli's and my engagement. The point? Not only is love worth celebrating, but so are your friends.

Lemon Yogurt Cake

Fri, 04 May 2007 18:49:35 GMT

If you are looking for a relatively low fat dessert that packs a flavor punch, look no further than the Barefoot Contessa's Lemon Yogurt Cake. Her Recipes page is displaying it right now, but will probably change soon as these are recipes for Spring 2007. I made it this afternoon and we've already gobbled up half of it!

I did have to make a couple of subsitutions:

(1) I didn't have a full cup of yogurt (had about 2/3 of a cup), so I threw in a splash of milk.

(2) Vanilla extract proved hard to find, so I used vanilla sugar in place of regular sugar. Vanilla sugar is widely available for baking in Budapest, but is hard to find in the States.

The other ingredient that was difficult to track down was baking powder. In the US, this is sold in 10-ounce cans. Here it is sold in little packets that contain about three teaspoons of powder.

We'll have what's left of the cake for dessert tonight. Dinner is dover sole with white wine sauce, wild rice, and roasted asparagus with shaved parmesan cheese.

Sushi Update! We're continuing our search for edible sushi in Budapest and have a possible contender. Coming home from the market today, we happened upon another basement Japanese restaurant. After Zoli chatted up the chef for a few minutes, he invited us for a pot of green tea and we talked fish, the state of sushi in the city, and his (the chef's) goal of really exposing European culture to Japanese cuisine. The chef used to work at Fuji, Budapest's good-but-expensive fancy shmancy Japanese restaurant up in Rozsadom. His prices are reasonable, he says he makes creative sushi and not your run of the mill stuff, and from the sound of it, he knows his fish. We'll be trying it soon and will report back! In the meantime, if anyone has tried the little sushi place tucked away on Kepiro, let me know how it was!

Home Cooking

Fri, 27 Apr 2007 15:23:41 GMT

It has taken a few months, but I'm finally getting into a cooking groove here. In part, this is because I've sussed out some great places to shop, and in part because I've been making things that we've either been craving or that are expensive or not as good in restaurants. Following are a few great meals we've had at home lately:

Indonesian Ginger Chicken with Roasted Carrots and Rice, and Homemade Potato Chips with Caviar Dip (minus the caviar)

A few weeks ago, we invited Gabor and Klara to our apartment for dinner. I struggled to decide what to make. A lot of times I make something Italian when I entertain, but as Klara is a pretty good Italian cook in her own right, I wanted to make something different. But what? I didn't want it to be too "out there" since I wasn't sure how adventurous Klara was, and I know Gabor's food boundaries well from the time we spent with him in SF. As the date got closer, I pulled out my Barefoot Contessa books - always a great fallback for entertaining.

If you aren't familiar with the Barefoot Contessa, her real name is Ina Garten and she used to have a restaurant and catering business in New York state. Now she is a very successful cookbook author and has a show on the food network. I love her approach to cooking and entertaining: keep it simple, use the best ingredients, and organize everything so you can relax and have fun at your own party. After all, if you are enjoying yourself and are at ease as a hostess, your guests will naturally be more likely to have a good time, too.

The Contessa's website has some menu suggestions, and I decided that her "Dinner in the Kitchen" menu sounded just right for a small gathering of friends, with a couple of small variations. I kept the Indonesian Ginger Chicken, which is quartered chicken marinated overnight in soy sauce, honey, garlic, and lots of ginger, and then baked in the sauce. I also kept the chips and dip idea as a starter, using her baked potato chip recipe. However, rather than using her suggested pan-fried onion dip, I used her recipe for caviar dip, which includes cream cheese, sour cream, lemon juice, dill, a scallion, some half-and-half, and salt and pepper. I did not go the extravagant extra length of adding salmon roe, however. The meal was rounded out with roasted carrots and rice. The Contessa suggests coconut cupcakes for dessert, but since Klara loves ice cream, I opted to splurge on some Ben & Jerry's instead (as far as I know, there is one store in the city that sells it, and the markup is steep; I think it came out to about $8 for a pint, compared to $3 or $4 at home).

A couple of snaps, courtesy of Klara:

Seared Black Pepper Crusted Red Tuna
Do you ever find that sometimes the best things in life come when you are having some of your darkest moments? I was having a dark moment last week when we came home from Ireland. On our last full day on our trip, I picked up either some food poisoning or some kind of stomach virus, and haven't been the same since (though my stomach looks fabulous). So, I decided to make some "Mexican Penicillin," aka tortilla soup. Unfortunately, when Zoli and I went to the market to get all the ingredients, I was hit with a particularly violent bout of stomach cramps, and had to run to find a bathroom. The problem was, I forgot where the bathroom was located and wound up running all over the place trying to find it. It is a mark of my presence of mind in the face of disaster that I noticed a great looking fishmonger that I'd never seen before. (Well, the fish looked great. The monger, not as much.) So, after the danger passed, I found Zoli and we went to check it out in greater detail. To our delight, the fishmonger sold beautiful, sushi-grade tuna. As his next shipment wouldn't be for another four days, I decided illness be damned - we were going to have tuna. We haven't had tuna since leaving SF, where we had ahi probably at least once a week. Needless to say, we've been missing good seafood! So, when we got home, I crushed a bunch of black pepper and pressed it all over the fish, quickly seared it in a grill pan (2 minutes per side, raw-to-rare in the center), and topped it off with a pinot noir and shallot reduction. Quick and delicious!

Tortilla Soup
Tuna out of the way, it was back to therapy the next day. When I get sick, I don't subscribe to the notion of babying myself with bland food. Instead, I prefer to burn out the germs with lots of spices, whether it is a cold or tummy bunnies that I'm afflicted with. (There's no better cure for a cold than some tom yum soup or some pho.) So with this approach in mind, I flipped through one of my favorite cookbooks, Weir Cooking in the City, and decided to make Joanne Weir's scrumptious Tortilla and Tomato Soup with all the fixings: shredded mozzarella and trappista cheese (no Monterey jack here), diced avocado, sour cream, freshly fried tortilla strips, and lots of hot sauce.

We took advantage of the wonderful spring weather we've been having (in the 70s) to eat dinner outside, pairing the soup with a chenin blanc from South Africa.

Linguine with Shrimp and Scallops in Thai Green Curry Sauce
For years, one of my specialties has been this gem that I found on Epicurious. It is packed with flavor and is pretty fast to make. It is worth it to seek out fresh Thai chiles over dried ones, but it is good either way. Another seafood-based taste from home to keep us happy.

Tonight we're going to have a Creole shrimp dish, and if all these spices don't get me on the road to wellville, I don't know what will!

Négy Indiai Etterem (Or, Four Indian Restaurants)

Wed, 21 Mar 2007 11:33:47 GMT

Got in a little vocab lesson there!

One of the things we worried about when we moved here was how much diversity there would be in food. We knew that we could get pretty much any kind of cuisine, but we weren't sure how much choice there would be. I mean, what good does one Vietnamese restaurant do if the food is terrible? So far, we haven't had any real knockouts in Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, or Thai restaurants (though we haven't tried all that hard on these yet). The real standout is proving to be Indian food, which is great for us since we love it!

There are dozens of Indian restaurants in the city (one reason is that there are more British people in this city than you can shake a stick at, and they luuuurrrrves their Indian food), and so far we have visited four of them. Over a period of a couple weeks, we decided to compare the restaurants that are closest to us (presented in the order that we liked them from best to worst):

Mini reviews for all of these can be found on my Restaurants and Cafes page, but since I am only allowed a certain number of characters per entry there, I thought I'd elaborate. Salaam Bombay, Kashmir, and Kama Sutra are all located downtown, near the banking district. Nirvana is in the 6th district, about a block in from Teresz korut, just off of Jokai u.

Other than at Kashmir, where we had the lunch buffet, we visited all of the restaurants for dinner and had chicken tikka masala, chicken vindaloo, vegetable samosas, rice, naan, and mango lassis. To be truly fair, we should go back to Kashmir for dinner to see if that improves our impression there.

The first restaurant we tried was Salaam Bombay, where we went on a Sunday night. There was one other couple and a table of six boisterous Brits. (See??? They are all over the place, I'm telling you!) Salaam Bombay is kind of a cool place, with a chic, minimalist (almost Spartan) design - think Sex in the City meets Bollywood meets a big, empty white box. Service was fine, the meal was well-paced, the lassis, samosas, rice, and naan were all correct. But then I got weirdness in a bowl in place of chicken tikka masala. Now, I know Indian food in Washington, DC, and I know Indian food in the San Francisco Bay Area, so one of two things happened: either I was finally eating authentic chicken tikka masala, or I was eating Magyarized chicken tikka masala. I'm pretty sure it was the latter, since this dish was basically chunks of chicken (regular chicken too, not tandoori), tomatoes, and onions tossed together in a bowl with a couple of slices of pepper. It had no zip or zing, and I could have had it any number of Hungarians' homes. I'd also like to note that while service was fine for us, the Party Table bitched at their waiter for a full five minutes complaining about his service. Apparently they waited 45 minutes for something, and "that would never happen in London!" (Riiiiiiggggghhhht.) Maybe he was just hoping they'd leave if he ignored them long enough?

On the recommedation of Chew, we visited Kashmir for their cheap lunch buffet, or "Swedish Table." Of all four restaurants, I liked Kashmir's decor the best. It was modern while still being Indian, but was not too kitschy on the Indian side. In short, it was a nice balance of time and place. I was also excited to try them because they have a DJ on the weekends, and I am a huge fan of Indian pop/groove/lounge music. Alas, we experienced the worst service we've ever had in Budapest (a charming combination of incompetence, indifference, and snarling rudeness), the food on the buffet was utterly without flavor and had the consistency of mushy hospital food, and the samosas we ordered from the menu didn't arrive until we were ready to pay (or walk out). Zoli actually tracked the owner down upstairs to tell him of our experience, and he, the owner, was able to shed some light on the situation. He also gave us certificates for about the price of our lunch to come back and give them another try. We haven't yet, but do plan to try again. I will post an update when we do. Never again will I do lunch there.

Next up, Nirvana! Our neighbor Timi recommended this one, and orders delivery from them all the time. We stopped in on a day of crappy weather and aborted errand-running, hungry and not in the best of moods. It's a little tricky to find, but was worth the scavenger hunt. The restaurant is in a cellar, and looks like a Hungarian wine cellar with some Indian trinkets tucked in various alcoves. These are subtle, however. If you just wandered in and sat down, you probably wouldn't even know you were in an Indian restaurant till you saw the menu (that is, if have a defective sense of smell). After one sip of our first mango lassi, we knew Timi was onto something. After one bite of samosa, I knew we'd found our winner.

I have to explain something about my samosa obsession. They are really nothing special: in essence, samosas are nothing more than fried dough stuffed with potatoes, peas and spices with some sauce on the side. Easy, right? Yet so many restaurants serve either grease bombs or undercooked or microwaved garbage. Nirvana's were perfect - crisp on the outside, but not greasy, and moist on the inside. I could have eaten a dozen.

Next up were the chicken tikka masala and vindaloo, both of which we ordered spicy. Man, they weren't messing around in the kitchen! We both had to order another round of mango lassis to cool our mouths and Zoli needed extra napkins to mop the sweat off his shining pate. Next time I will trust them and will not order it with extra spiciness. The naan was also rockstar. Again, like samosas, naan is theoretically nothing special, just a flat, round bread that you use to sop up curry. Nirvana's naan, though, was ethereal. It was crispy, slightly puffy, and absolutely huge. It was probably the best naan I've ever had.

Though I was happy to stop trying new places after having experienced the perfection that was Nirvana, we had one more on our list to try: Kama Sutra. We dropped in late one night, and it was fairly dead with just a few tables occupied. It is a big space, and looks in many ways more like a bar than a restaurant. It is dimly lit, with lots of vibrantly colored pillows and other accents tossed about. Imagine a cross between an Indian-themed brothel and Pier One and you might get the idea. Kama Sutra has received mixed reviews on both food and service, but our experience was fine - not remarkable, but nothing wrong. The chicken tikka masala was good, but the samosas and the naan did not come close to Nirvana's. In short, I'd go back, but only if I was in the mood for that kind of atmosphere over the quiet little Nirvana cellar.

And that, 1,228 words later, is a wrap!

Wine-A-Palooza

Wed, 14 Mar 2007 16:37:51 GMT

The American Chamber of Commerce (AmCham) hosted a pinot noir tasting at the Kogart House, a beautiful mansion dating from the 1880s and the current home of the Kovacs Gabor Art Foundation. The current exhibit features self portraits by Hungarian artists. While some of the portraits were fascinating, unfortunately there was no information about the artists other than names and dates. But who cares -- we were there to taste wine.

The tasting featured eight different producers of Hungarian pinot noir, and one from Gevrey Chambertin in Burgundy. An absolutely delightful English fellow walked us through each of the wines, telling interesting stories about the winemakers and describing their different strengths. David Copp has been in Hungary on and off since the early 90s, and his passion for the country and for Hungarian wine was apparent in both his presentation as well as his recently published book on the topic. (He has another coming out soon about Tokaj).

Zoli had a chance to reconnect with an old acquaintance, a Magyarphile from Kansas City who splits his time between here and there. This particular friend is working with David on his newest book, and we wound up going back to his apartment with the two of them and a few others to -- what else -- sample some more wine. Zoli and David talked wine together for who-knows-how-long, and I had a chance to talk to him too about English literature. How cool is that?? It is not every day that one can talk books with someone as erudite as an Oxford professor.

It was clearly time to say "when" when one of the group began talking to me about coming to his office to start a career in international financial planning. Those of you who have seen me trying to do math, I can hear you laughing from here!

PS - To the wonderful person who Fed-Exed me 10 boxes of tampons, thank you!!! Since there was no name or message on the packing slip, I can't thank you by name, but I hope you are reading this and know how much I love you! You're a peach!

PPS - In Turkey, Hungary is known as "Magyarstan." I love it.

Papageno

Sun, 18 Feb 2007 22:30:27 GMT

Again with the consumption.

I haven't had much to post for a couple of days, since we've been hanging at home trying different Nespresso coffees and venturing out from time to time to stuff our faces. We've found more bio stores and with better variety, we went to a couple of fun bars with Melinda, and we found an amazing restaurant close to our apartment.

It was kind of interesting how we found Papageno. Zoli and I were wandering around in the rain earlier this week and stumbled into a very hip home design store on Hajos Utca. After making friends with a gigantic Doberman and his owner, we picked up a design magazine, thinking it was the store's catalog. One of the articles featured the Budapest restaurant Papageno, and we decided to give it a try.

Papageno has been open for almost a year, occupying the space and name of a previous restaurant. The new owners have put their hearts and souls into the place, with the manager designing the interior and his partner the exec chef. The interior is purple, silver, and sexy, sexy, sexy. Zsolt (the manager, and formerly one of the faces of Bailey's Irish Cream) seemingly spared no detail in bringing his ideas to fruition. The space is contemporary yet warm, and inviting but a little edgy. (I am sounding like the Sacha Baron Cohen character Bruno.) The restaurant is categorized as French/Italian in a few write-ups, but it is really more contemporary European food with an Asian flair.

The chef puts a lot of emphasis on the presentation of his dishes, each being a small work of art. The substance meets the style, however, and everything was exceptionally prepared. In all the years I've visited Budapest, service has steadily improved, and Zsolt really brought things to the next level in this regard. He made suggestions for our orders and offered up alternate preparations so that our meal would be more cohesive and would pair better with our wine. He was charming, friendly, and forthcoming, and spoke flawless English. From start to finish, the entire experience was superlative.

I wish that I had the adjectives at my command right now to better describe the food because it was wonderful, but I am not feeling all that creative at the moment. I can say that the flavors popped: I had a spicy thai-inspired fish soup to start, and Zoli had a steamed salmon dish with black spaghetti. For entrees I had a seared tuna steak coated with peppercorns, served on a bed of spinach with soy sauce, and Zoli had shrimp with fresh pasta in a wine and chili sauce. We shared three desserts, and the standout was a "cheesecake" which was really a very light, whipped cheese atop a somewhat gingery(?) pastry round. All the seafood was fresh and perfectly prepared; not that common in this city where a lot of chefs tend to overcook it. We would have easily paid double for this experience in San Francisco.