On a nondescript street in Budapest’s seventh district—a neighborhood of run-down crumbling buildings—one of my favorite restaurants hides in plain sight in a storefront of an early-19th-century apartment house. There’s no wine list, the brown-checked tablecloths are smudged, and there are no frills (in everything from the service and the décor to the food and the menu). You may have to share a table if the place is packed (like it usually is), and English is non-existent. Kívánság Étkezde (VII. Alsóerdősor utca 36) serves the kind of home-style food that a village grandmother would prepare. Regulars come daily, and elderly neighbors socialize over steaming bowls of húsleves (consomme). In exchange for the simplicity, you won’t pay more than five or six euros for a meal. It is hardly the only place like this in Budapest. The best way to find one? Follow office workers on their way to lunch.

This type of restaurant is known as the étkezde or kifőzde: usually a single room with less than a dozen tables and a frequently changing menu of traditional Hungarian dishes. They typically open for weekday lunch, and coffee and alcohol are seldom served. The idea is to eat quickly and surrender your table. For the traveler seeking authenticity and a true peek at Budapest life, this is the jackpot. Budapest’s markets are brimming with pig brains and snouts, tripe and beef tail, and rooster testicles and chicken hearts. The étkezde is the place to go to taste these things. There are also tamer options, and the short menu includes several soups and stews, several types of roasted, fried, or stuffed meats, pickled salads, a főzelék (a stewed vegetable dish), a pasta or two, and one or two desserts.

Kádár Étkezde (VII. Klauzál tér 9) is an institution in the old Jewish quarter. The food here is among the best in the city, and on busy Saturdays lines are long and it can be hard to get a table. Known for Jewish specialties like cholent, (bean stew with goose leg, ham, or hard-boiled egg), it also serves fantastic stuffed cabbage and peppers, duck with red cabbage, and vargabéles (a pasta and strudel cake). Celebrity photos line the walls, and you pay the proprietor, standing by the door in a white coat, as you leave. The adorable Ráday Étkezde (IX. Ráday utca 29) is on one of the city’s trendiest streets, but doesn’t offer an English menu. It has a few tables in the gallery (every one with a single Gerber daisy), recipes painted on the ceiling, and random magazine pages glued to the walls. Come here for good chicken paprikás, as well as other étkezde staples like fried cheese and pörkölt (stew). Regulars come daily from the nearby university.

The Rákóczi Kifőzde (VIII. Rákóczi tér 9) sits next to an old market hall on a torn-up square that will be the site of a new metro stop. An old hussar uniform hangs on the wall, the tablecloths are red checked, and the daily specials are scrawled in Hungarian on a whiteboard. The menu holds a few random international dishes, but it is best to stick to the Hungarian classics (like the vadpörkölt, game stew, with potato croquettes). Cross the river to find the Róma Ételbár (I. Csalogány utca 20). This cozy place (with 1970s décor) is slightly more expensive than the others and serves slabs of meat nearly as big as a plate. Try the hagymás rostélyos (a thin piece of beef topped with crispy fried onions) or the cigány pecsenye (a pork cutlet topped with bacon and garlic).

If you aren’t lucky enough to be invited to a Hungarian home, these étkezdes are the next best thing. For a fraction of the price of a regular restaurant, the étkezde fills a primal desire for honest, authentic, every-day food.

This piece was originally published in Ling.

–Carolyn