Star Mountain

Former Eastern Bloc country, twenty years gone.  The evidence is all around me.  I live in Óbuda, north of Buda at the foot of Csillaghegy, (which means Star Mountain in Magyar) on the west side of the Danube River. Here, former communist, Bauhaus bland, high rise housing towers above charming but unkempt Austro-Hungarian storefronts and homes.  Litter is everywhere...my landlord, an elegant, well-dressed gentleman, on our first day in our flat, pulled all of the junk mail out of our post box and without a thought threw it onto the sidewalk below. Cigarette butts are almost as numerous upon the ground as fallen leaves from surrounding stands of birch and locust trees. Dog shit is everywhere too...Hungarians love their "kutyak" but for the most part fail to scoop the poop.  When I pick up my own dog's waste, I get the strangest looks from passersby.  There are ossified piles all over the green spaces of Óbuda.
  As for the cigarette butts, their multitude is no wonder. Almost everyone smokes... it seems to be one of the only ways these intense people have found to relax.  Nicotine lines tanned faces and ages them before their time.   Kids as young as 13 pick up the habit and it makes me sad to think that their skin, smooth and rich as satin, might soon become stained and wrinkled as a result. Not to be self-righteous about the habit, since I have been known to sneak a cig or two, but, it really does seem de riguer in this culture!
 The people here are very attractive and yet the prevailing beauty aesthetic is one of artifice and glamour. Hungarian women are naturally beautiful. It's therefore confusing as to why many of them they choose to shave their eyebrows only to pencil them back in and/or dye or bleach their hair ruthlessly and haphazardly.  I've noticed that many women in my neighborhood tend to favor the same shade of reddish purple dye, the color of an overripe aubergine.  Many times, undyed roots emerge about three inches from the scalp.  If it were part of some punk aesthetic I would understand but it is not.  It's just about having purple hair!
  The people know that beauty, like every other precious thing in life, is slippery and fleeting.  Best not to get too attached.  Best to prepare oneself for hard times.

housing complex across the street

pretty little balconies

our neighbor's home

  And yet the Hungarians  really know how to make the most of what they have...take these commie high rises for instance.  Each tiny residence has a balcony and these are usually overflowing with bright flowers and greenery, perhaps a windsock or a chime or two. If they can't reside in one of the lovely Transylvanian style homes below,  they will make a palace out of their small apartments. In the evenings, residents come out to the common areas below, many times with their kutyak, for cigs, a beer or two, and some hearty fellowship.
  The Hungarian work ethic is powerful.  These people work very hard often putting in twelve hours per day, many times without breakfast or lunch, and only because there is so much to do.  Many of them hold a couple of degrees and everyone I have met is multi-talented and incredibly intelligent, able to discuss just about anything.
  The Hungarians who helped us out the first couple of weeks we were here worked non-stop to put us Americans at ease our confusion as to the the way things work here.  Aaah, Hungarian ways.  Bureaucratic as German, slow as Romanian, respecting only the stamped document ("Stamp it three times", said András, "and welcome to my country!") and the verbal agreement ("you can absolutely count on this," said Hajni, in a voice as creamy as gombaleves).  Bless them and their invaluable friendship.
  Hungarian voices...gorgeous .  When they speak English, the accent is so lovely, so rich and mysterious.  Makes me hungry and crave the mushroom soup for which, at least in the U.S., they are well known.  I prepared some the other evening for supper and I must say, savoring that soup here was a simple but profound treat. I will leave you with the recipe.  Szia! x

Gombaleves (from the wonderful Moosewood Cookbook)

2T  butter (teavaj)
2 c chopped onion (hagyma)
1 and 1/2-2 lbs. mushrooms (gomba), sliced (experiment with shrooms...been dying to try chanterelles or morels with this recipe)
1 t salt (só)
1T paprika (more to taste)
2-3 T dried dill ( morzsolt)
2 t fresh lemon juice (friss citrom)
3T flour (liszt)
2 c water (viz)
1c whole milk (tej) at room temperature
Black pepper (feketebors) to taste
1/2 c sour cream (tejföl)
finely minced parsley (petrezselyem) for garnish

Melt the butter in a stock pot or Dutch oven. Add onions, sauté over medium heat for about five minutes, until onions are translucent.  Add mushrooms, salt, dill, and paprika. Stir well and cover. Let cook for about fifteen more minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in lemon juice.
  Gradually add the flour, stirring constantly.  Cook and stir another five minutes or so over a medium-low heat.  Add water, cover, and cook about ten minutes, strirring often.
  Stir in milk; add black pepper to taste. Adjust seasonings to taste. Whisk in the sour cream...do not cook or boil after this point. Serve hot, sprinkle with parsley if desired.  ENJOY! x