Last Sunday was a bright and sunny day...I slept in nonetheless, read the third installment in the Millenium series obsessively while submerged in a tub full of bubbles, and was then moved to hop the HEV to Filatorigát to snap photos of the amazing grafitti at that particular megallo (train stop).
It was damn cold. A special kind of Hungarian cold, northwesterly, drifting down from the North Sea, a cold through which the strangest plants survive, but which blows through to my very bones to the point of stress. Walking around for a couple of hours in this kind of cold makes me feel as if I have been hiking for days. But I enjoy it nonetheless...Christmastime here in Budapest is a gorgeous, cinnamon scented season played in the stringed notes of a minor key. A very special feeling I will never forget.
After the photo shoot at Filatorigát my boys and I hopped back on the HEV and met Debra at Arpad Hid. The Arpad bisects Óbuda in an invasive and unsubtle way, splitting the district with all the care of a back alley cesarean. Charming little pockets can be found, however, without too much trouble and we did find such a pocket just off the Hid. A little Christmas bazaar was set up around the tiny skating rink just west of the HEV line. We followed our noses, led by the smell of smoked meats, grilled pastries (yes, grilled), and mingling spices.
We ate, we drank, we remarked time and again how very, very cold it was. We walked to the church on the other side of the bridge in an effort to warm up. I complained that all of the steeples in Budapest look the same. Alas, the cold winter sun was not up to the task. I declared that I had to get home....my feet were cold and sore, my body tense from shivering. We invited Debra to come over later for some gulyasleves, the perfect meal for a frigid winter's evening.
After we arrived home, I told myself (and Boone) that I would go to the store to grab some gulyasleves ingredients after a small nap. The cold had sapped my energy. Well, there is not such thing as a short nap on my little planet so two hours later, around four thirty just as the sun had completed its bedtime ritual, I woke with a start, right in the middle of a dream about mountain castles, bundled up and headed to the TescoExpressz across the street in the blocks, my heart beating fast, my eyes still unfocused and bleary.
Shopping is just not done on Sunday, here in Budapest. This city is somewhat like a dry county with the Sunday or holiday lack of shopping options, except it ain't booze that is absent, it's food, or rather, a colorful selection of such.
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| this is NOT the sight that greeted me at Tesco on Sunday |
I walked into the now very familiar Tesco Expressz in the blocks. The cashiers have been very patient with my lack of fluent Hungarian skills. Only one other customer was perusing the aisles, or aisle, rather, and that was the booze aisle. I must digress, for humor's sake, and mention that Tesco, the British Walmart, offers its own brand of vodka, as well as its own line of gravestone cleaner. You just never know when either will come in handy so it's a relief to know that you can rely on Tesco to supply you wth these necessities should the occasion arise. Anyway, one lone cashier sat behind her till, filing her colorful and clawlike nails, peering up every now and again to scan for customers.
I was met with such disappointment...the produce bins held only rubbery parsnips and rutabagas, and wilted heads of butter lettuce. The meat department yielded similar results offering only ground pork and a few chicken wings.
I was fairly crestfallen. I had promised my friend and family gulyasleves and that was clearly not going to be on the menu. I sighed and resigned myself to my meager choices. I grabbed a few more potatoes, an onion, and the ground pork. I also settled for the least unappetizing head of lettuce. I rousted the cashier from her Sunday night half-coma, bagged my purchases and headed home.
I must say my efforts were well worth the trouble....I haphazardly invented a bastardized version of gulyasleves, which was initially met with skepticism but eventually warmed bellies and tempted taste buds. The loose recipe is what follows:
KÜLFÖLDILEVES: A recipe invented on the fly by Leslie Nicholson
I prefer to cook without recipes but this means measurements are approximate and not exact. Season to taste, please!
MEATBALLS
pound and a half of ground pork
one egg, lightly whisked
half cup to three quarter cup bread crumbs (use whatever bread you have on hand)
thyme, sage, or any fairly strong herb
salt and black pepper
1/4 cup olive, sunflower, or canola oil
1 TB sweet or spicy paprika, more to taste
four or five carrots, chopped into half discs
one medium onion, chopped
three or four medium sized potatoes, cut into chunks
two banana peppers or hungarian wax peppers, thinly sliced (anaheims would be good too)
five to six cups beef or veggie stock or boullion
cup of dark beer
Mix well together in a bowl the pork, egg, bread crumbs and herbs. Form inch and a half sized meatballs out of the pork mixture. Heat oil in a stock pot or large skillet to a medium heat and fry meatballs, maybe, ten or more minutes (higher if need be, play with the heat on your stove. The meatballs should cook through without burning on the outside first). Place cooked meatballs on plate covered with a paper towel to soak up the grease. Set these aside when finished frying. Do not drain grease from pot or skillet.
Turn heat down a very little then add the onions to the hot grease...add more if need be. Fry until the onions are translucent, then add paprika, carrots, peppers and potatoes. Sauté for about five minutes, longer if necessary, to sear in veg flavors.
Add soup stock and beer to the mixture. Bring to boil then turn down to gentle simmer. Simmer for about fifteen minutes, covered, until veggies begin to get soft. At this point, add the meatballs then continue to cook the soup, covered, until the are tender.
Adjust the seasonings and serve with dense German bread. Tell your friends and share the joy of külföldileves.
