In search of Chicken Paprikash and Someone who looks like me
I'm on the way to Hungary for the first time. It's for work... I am going to solve the 'service issues' in the Budapest branch office....it's a bit of a dreary job...sometimes my mind wanders...
I dream that I am paid to travel the world in search of gourmet delights to taste. I dream that I am magically booked in to 6-star hotels in the world's finest cities and my assignments are to seek the finest examples of the location's culinary treats. I even get to take Bunny Dog on my travels - in fact, it's a requirement (hey it's a dream ok?)!
This mission - should I choose to accept it - AND of course I DO, is to find the best Hungarian Chicken Paprikash made in Budapest. Now, how to go about this? This dish is such a traditional, homemade favourite, it's got to be like beef stew recipes from home. Every mom makes it and everyone thinks their Mom's stew is the best.
I have done some research. There's an elegant restaurant called Marquis de Salade - how cute - manned by 8 chefs from Hungary, Russia and the Caucasus Mountains which sounds definitely worth a visit - and there's a famous restaurant called Central Kavehaz (central coffee-house) opened in 1887 which not only has amazing coffee, but of course, perfectly cooked staples like Paprikash and goulash. I could go to almost any establishment and get some version of Paprikash. But I know I will seek an old, cosy bistro.
I usually follow my instincts - then I go by word of mouth - I ask a local person. There is no way to find the best, tiny, little, mom and pop restaurants and bistros hidden in side streets and alleyways unless you ask. I'm talking about places where mommas - or grannies even - hold court behind huge aga-like cookers stirring steaming pots of somethings yummy and sauteing surprises in huge cast iron pans. No microplane graters and mandolins in these places. Just wise, old women with gnarled knuckles who can really cook and naturally know good food, tight sauces, fresh ingredients and perfect textures. Wise women who can smell when the meat is cooked, know what tastes best together - sages in the kitchen.
My mouth is watering.
Back to reality. I hope to have time to get out and explore - the Budapest office needs some serious help though. A lot of work. Still, a nice adventure and the start of regular visits to a fun place to explore. Perhaps Cutie Pie will come with me on a business trip sometime and we can stay over the weekend - he likes Budapest.
I wonder if I will feel a certain affinity for the country and the people. Being Hungarian by blood myself - I was adopted - will I feel something special? There are so many things adopted people never know (and mostly don't care about) But every so often certain questions do sort of sit in the back of my mind. What did my parents look like? What was their history? Will I feel like I look like everyone else? Will anyone really look like me?
When my father passed away, there were tons of family members around. My Dad had no extended family and all of the relatives were from my Mom's side - Asian Americans - Mostly Japanese Americans and some married to Chinese Americans. My brother and I were both adopted. He is 4 years older than I and he is from Asian decent - Hawaiian(mix of Asian and Portuguese) and Japanese background. We didn't look that odd as a family because My brother looked as if he could easily be my Mother's son and I looked as if I could easily be my father's daughter (As he was German descent). So we meshed somehow. My brother's son Jason carries on the exquisite Asian features he inherited from my brother and deep blue eyes from his mother's side.
I looked around after Dad passed away and I realised. Hey, without Dad, I don't look like anyone in the family anymore. It's a weird feeling. Maybe I will feel an inherent connectivity in Hungary - who knows?
I keep thinking about what Sio said on the phone the other day. She said that everyone who goes to Budapest for the first time calls it Budapest. And after one visit it becomes Budapesht - you know, because that's the PROPER way to pronounce it. Perhaps I will call it 'just right'.
Photo above of Zsa Zsa Gabor
posted by Brussels Confidential @ 9:57 AM
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