Monthly Archives: September 2007

Pumpkin Seed Oil and Bread

Posted on by
2

This was a hot summer in Budapest and when we didn’t feel like cooking, our standard meal was a big tomato salad drenched in this deliciously nutty tasting pumpkin seed oil. The oil has a strong, distinctive taste which is probably acquired. I actually didn’t like it the first time I tried it several years ago, and since then I’ve tried a few other types of lower quality stuff that tasted nothing like this concentrated, dark green oil that we bought from a husband-wife team that makes the stuff near Lake Balaton*. They also produce walnut oil, honey and a few other artisanal products which they can be found hawking at various festivals in Hungary. Although a little of this pumpkin seed oil goes a long way, we managed to somehow finish an entire bottle of it (fortunately it’s supposed to be pretty healthy due to its high amount of polyunsaturated fatty acids).

When the oil was gone, I was left with two bags of pumpkin seed flour that I had bought at the same time and decided to turn into bread because I couldn’t think of anything else to do with it. When I was in culinary school, my “baking 101″ class was one of my favorites. I became pretty good at turning flour and yeast into beautifully shaped, perfectly risen loaves (I even briefly thought that a baking career might be nice, until I remembered that I am definitely not a morning person). But, in the kitchen classrooms we had big mixers, proofing boxes, and convection ovens with steam. Since then, I’ve rarely been inspired to attempt to bake bread at home, where I don’t even have enough mixing bowls, let alone a proofing box to ensure that my bread rises properly.

But then I discovered this recipe for no-knead bread in the New York Times last November (which was written by Mark Bittman, and adapted from Jim Lahey at the Sullivan Street Bakery). The recipe sounded astoundingly easily, reliable, and good. It turned out to be possibly the easiest thing in the world to bake, and one of the most satisfying. Since then, probably ever food blogger has written about it. I adapted this recipe for no-knead bread in order to find a use for some of my pumpkin seed flour, and it turned out wonderfully. Rather than using the three cups of bread flour that Lahey used, I used one cup of pumpkin seed flour and two cups of bread flour (just like the oil, just a little of the stuff gives off an intense pumpkin seed flavor). If this is your first time baking this bread, don’t be alarmed at the appearance of the dough…just keep waiting (and follow all of Lahey’s instructions). The results are worth 18 hours that the bread takes to rise. Since the pumpkin seed bread has such a nutty flavor, it’s not the kind of bread to eat with jam. Instead, eat it with something that will stand up to it, like some good cheese.

* If you’re in Hungary, you can get the pumpkin seed oil and flour from:

Zsolt Nemeth
8924 Alsónemesapáti
Petőfi Sándor utca 53
Tel: (+36) 30-247-5660
www.nemethmeheszet.hu
–Carolyn
Share

Only in Hungary: Túró Rudi Ice Cream

Posted on by
2

It’s starting to feel less and less like summer here it Budapest, and a few days have even been downright cold. This weather may manage to bring an end to one of my guiltiest recent habits–my daily fixes of túró rudi ice cream bars (or, more accurately, “Pöttyös Jégkrém”). The túró rudi, in case you’re unlucky enough to not be familiar with it, is probably the best mass produced Hungarian sweet that exists. It’s a bar made of sweetened curd cheese with a hint of lemon and coated in chocolate. When I discovered them on my first trip ever to Hungary I ate so many that I couldn’t touch another one for years.

I’m not sure exactly when the ice cream bars first went on sale, but I noticed them at the beginning of the summer and couldn’t resist buying one (at least) every time I saw them in the ice cream case near thegrocery store checkout line. My neighborhood grocery store, which happens to be the worst in the city, keeps my túró rudi ice cream habit in check by frequently running out of these luscious ice cream bars in the familiar red dotted wrappers. In fact, they’ve been out for weeks now, meaning that I have to look for them elsewhere. They’re never out of the imitation túró rudi ice cream bars, which I resorted to trying just once. It wasn’t the same. Even if you’re normally not a fan of packaged ice cream bars, these are different. I promise. Although they may soon conquer China, túró rudis are hardly available anywhere besides Hungary*, which is one more reason to come visit Budapest. I have a feeling the ice cream bars will still taste good when the weather gets colder.

* If you’re in Budapest and want to try a slightly different (and equally good) version of the túró rudi (although not the ice cream version), try the Russian “túró rudi” here:

Arbat Orosz Specialitások
II. Fény utca 1.4
Tel: 06-30/416-4893
www.arbat.hu

–Carolyn

Share

Szilvás Gombóc {Recipe}

Posted on by
Reply

{Plum Dumplings}

As I’ve already mentioned, plum dumplings are one of my favorite Hungarian foods. Plums are now flooding the markets, and I’ll be taking full advantage of them until they’re gone. Hungarians are passionate about these dumplings, and it’s easy to see why after you try one (or many). They combine salty and sweet, juicy plums and creamy butter. It doesn’t seem possible to eat just one or two of these things. They’re addicting and they always quickly disappear—if not the night they’re made, but for breakfast the next morning.

These dumplings belong in the pasta (or tészta) category of Hungarian desserts, which means that they can be eaten as a meal in themselves or as a dessert following a light meal (but from what I’ve seen, they’re usually served as a meal, rather than a dessert). This recipe can also be made with apricots instead of plums, in which case they would be called barack gombóc. Apricots aren’t as juicy, however, which may be why plum dumplings are more common. Another possibility for when fruit isn’t in season is to stuff the dough with plum or apricot jam instead of the fresh fruit. These plum dumplings are especially good if you’re like me and have no problems with eating sweets for dinner.

Plum Dumplings
{Szilvás Gombóc}

Dough:
1 kilogram (2 ¼ pounds) russet or baking potatoes
1 egg
50 grams (3 1/2 tablespoons) butter, softened
250 grams (2 cups) flour
Pinch of salt

Stuffing:
16 plums, pitted
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Coating:
150 grams (1 stick, plus 3 tablespoons) butter
150 grams (1 1/2 cups) dry (unseasoned) bread crumbs
2 tablespoons powdered sugar
Pinch of salt

powdered sugar for dusting

Boil the potatoes in their skins in salted water until they’re cooked through. When they’re cool enough to handle, peel them and push them through a ricer (if you don’t have a ricer, use a potato masher, but be sure that no lumps remain). Cool. Meanwhile, halve the plums and sprinkle the insides with the sugar and cinnamon (if plums aren’t very sweet, add an extra tablespoon of sugar).

In a mixing bowl, add the egg and butter to the riced potatoes and combine. Add the flour and salt, and knead until all ingredients are well combined. Form the mixture into a ball.

On a large floured surface, roll the dough out roughly into a square shape, with 1/3 inch thickness. Cut into 16 even pieces.

To form the dumplings, place two plum halves in the center of a dough square and bring the four corners together to cover the plum. Pinch the dough, and be sure to completely cover the plum (otherwise all of the good juices will spill out).

Bring a pot of salted water to boil. Add dumplings, but don’t overcrowd the pot (you may need to do it in two batches). Gently stir occasionally to prevent dumplings from sticking to the bottom. Cook for about 12 minutes. Meanwhile, heat butter in a medium skillet over medium heat and add bread crumbs, powdered sugar, and salt. Stir until well combined, and keep cooking until bread crumbs are lightly browned, stirring so the mixture cooks evenly.

To serve, roll the dumplings in the bread crumb mixture until well coated. Place in a serving dish and sprinkle extra bread crumbs (if there are any) on top. Dust powdered sugar on top, and serve with extra powdered sugar for sprinkling.

Tip: If your kitchen is very hot, keep the dough in the refrigerator when you’re not working with it. It becomes difficult to handle when it’s too warm.

This recipe makes 16 dumplings and serves four as a light dinner, or eight as a dessert.

–Carolyn

Share

Túrós csusza with lecsó {Recipe}

Posted on by
5

{Pasta with Curd Cheese and Stewed Peppers and Tomatoes}

What can be better than pasta smothered with curd cheese (túrós csusza) topped with paprika-tinted pepper and tomato stew (lecsó)? It only requires simple ingredients, and I could eat it night after night (which I sometimes do when there’s a big batch of lecsó around). Recently, we made our most successful meal of túrós csusza with lecsó ever by upping the quality of all of the ingredients. Rather than using store bought pasta, we used rich, homemade, egg pasta that we bought at the market. Rather than using curd cheese from the grocery store, we also bought freshly made curd cheese at the market (which tastes nothing like the grocery store variety). Finally, we made the lecsó with just-picked peppers and tomatoes from the garden.

Make lecsó now, while there are still lots of fresh peppers and tomatoes at the markets. And if you get so inspired, do as Hungarians do, and make an extra big batch of it for freezing or canning so you can enjoy it even when the fresh tomatoes are long gone.

In Hungary curd cheese (túró) is common, and sold at every grocery store and tiny food shop. In America, it’s not as easy to find (and it’s not the same). The best equivalent would be farmer’s cheese.If the bacon fat in these recipes scares you off, substitute with oil. Hungarians tend to think that everything tastes better with a little bacon (and I have to agree).

Túrós Csusza
500 grams (1 pound) pasta, kocka tészta (small, flat, square shaped pasta) is often used in Hungary
500 grams (1 pound) curd cheese (either cow or sheep milk)
Szalonna (bacon), use as much or as little as you’d like

Boil pasta in salted water. While the pasta is boiling, finely chop the bacon (szalonna) and render over low heat. Pour the fat into a glass pan and reserve the leftover chunks of bacon. Heat the glass pan over a low burner. When it’s done (and still a tiny bit firm), drain the pasta and add to the glass pan. Add the cheese to the pasta, and mix a little, just enough so it’s evenly distributed. Don’t stir the pasta and cheese mixture, but use a spatula to scrape the bottom and flip every few minutes. The idea is to let it get a bit brown and crispy. To serve, add the extra bacon and add sour cream if you’d like. Preferably serve with lecsó.

Lecsó
40 grams (1 1/2 ounces) szalonna (bacon), finely diced
1 large onion, finely chopped
1 tablespoon sweet Hungarian paprika
1 kilogram (2 pounds) sweet peppers, cored, seeded, and cut into 2cm (¾ inch) pieces **
500 grams (1 pound) tomatoes, roughly chopped
½ tablespoon salt

Add the bacon to a pot and cook over low heat until the bacon is rendered. Add the onions, cook over low heat until they are translucent (not browned), about five minutes. Stir in the paprika and then add the peppers. Cook for ten minutes or so, and add tomatoes. Lecsó is often cooked until the peppers are mushy, but I prefer to stop the cooking before they get too soft.

** You can increase or decrease the ratio of peppers to tomatoes if you’d like, with no real effect. This is a loose recipe, and I’ve seen it written with all sorts of quantities.

–Carolyn

Share

Szilva Lekvár {Recipe}

Posted on by
4

{Plum Jam}

Until last summer when I discovered how easy it is to make jam in my own kitchen, I coveted the jars of homemade apricot jam that my mother-in-law gave us. I worried about the gap between when our jar ran out and when we’d get a new one. Then I watched how she made her jam, and decided that there was no reason I couldn’t make my own. One big batch of jam can last the whole year (depending on how much you eat, of course, or how generous you are with it) and it’s rewarding to see all of your jars lined up, just waiting to be used. Lekvár is made from all types of fruits when they are in season, but apricot and plum are the most commonly made in Hungary. And now — since plums are cheap and plentiful at the markets — is the perfect time for making it.

The Hungarian method of making jam is simple, and Hungarian cooks generally forego the complicated sterilization process and boiling the jars. They have no complicated canning contraptions and special canning jars. Rather, they save their ordinary jars throughout the year (ignoring the commonly held canning mantras that say to never re-use the lids and to use canning rings). Here’s how the canning process generally goes in Hungarian home kitchens: Slowly pour the hot jam mixture into clean jars, cover with saran wrap, tightly secure the lids, cover bottles with thick blankets for about two days until they are completely cool. the purpose of the blankets is to ensure that the jam cools very slowly, which they say, will sterilize it well enough to last unopened for years.

I prefer the extra security that boiling the jars brings. I don’t use any fancy canning equipment, just a stock pot big enough to hold lots of boiling water and all of my jars. A pair of tongs is also good to have on hand, for removing the jars from the water. Place an inverted cake pan on the bottom of the pot (so the jars won’t directly touch the hot pot), place jars on the pan, fill with water, and bring to a boil. Boil for about ten minutes and keep the jars in the warm water until you’re ready to fill them (keep the water boiling after you remove the jars). Fill the jars with the hot jam, leaving about a quarter inch space. Run a wooden chopstick or skewer around the edge of the jar to get rid of any air bubbles, and then tightly seal. Put the sealed jars back in the hot water and boil for about ten more minutes. Remove the jars and let them cool completely. If you’d like, you can also use the Hungarian method of covering the jars with heavy blankets until they are completely cooled.

Hungarian homemade jam is generally not as sweet or thick as the commercial varieties of jam. The lack of commercial pectin, I think, gives the jam a fresher flavor. I add lemon juice, which helps the jelling process by bringing out the natural pectin in the fruit. Most important, use good fruit that’s sweet and perfectly ripe.

Plum Jam
{Szilva lekvár}

1 kg plums, pitted and quartered
200 grams sugar
juice of 1 lemon

Prepare your jars (see above). Put the plums in a pot and cook over medium heat, stirring frequently (you can also use a potato masher to mash the fruit up a bit). When the mixture begins to liquefy add the sugar and continue to cook and stir until it thickens. Total cooking time is about 40 minutes, and for the last five minutes it should cook at a fast boil. Pour into the sterilized jars.

This recipe makes a chunky jam, but if you prefer a smoother jam you can take this extra step before cooking the fruit: Slit the skin on the bottom of the plums, blanch them in boiling water, and then run them under cool water. Remove the skins and purée the plums in a blender or food processor for about a minute, or until pureed.

–Carolyn

Share