Tamás Bereznay’s Greek Lemon Cake

Görög Citromos Süti

{Greek Lemon Cake}

I have a pretty big collection of old Hungarian and Transylvanian cookbooks—both in English and Hungarian—which I love for the insight into the periods when they were written and the many recipes which are hardly prepared anymore. Most of the books, I have to say, are just decorations on my bookshelf since I have not had the patience to actually cook from them. I’ll compare several recipes from different cookbooks, but the recipes are brief to the point of being unusable. There are no cooking times or temperatures, and practically no description. The recipes are basically lists of ingredients, written for housewives who learned to cook from their mothers and grandmothers, lived at their stoves, and knew from the sight, smell, and feel when something was done. Even though I am a pretty good cook with a culinary school degree, I like my recipes to hold my hand more, especially when I’m preparing something I’ve never tasted or seen before.

Recently I got two contemporary Hungarian cookbooks (which were lacking in my collection) which I couldn’t wait to get home and start cooking from. Author Tamás Bereznay is the chef at Budapest’s Karpatia Étterem as well as the chef for the Hungarian President. The books—Mai Magyar Konyha (Today’s Hungarian Kitchen) and Süteményeskönyv (Book of Desserts)—are both beautifully photographed and present Hungarian cuisine in a contemporary and casual way, the way that I like to cook my Hungarian dishes at home. But Bereznay doesn’t do anything crazy with the food to make it “modern”—you won’t find anything like deconstructed pörkölt or radical Dobos torta. He presents his recipes the way Hungarians eat and cook now, making sure that he don’t forget the many strong traditions of the past. He counts his grandmother as his greatest culinary influence.

A few months ago I sat down with Bereznay to talk about modern Hungarian cuisine (more on that topic later), which may restaurants nowadays in Budapest tout on their menus. “I hope that in a few years we will have more modern Hungarian cuisine to talk about,” he said. “We’ve made a few starts.” There are some dishes, he noted, that just shouldn’t be messed with, such as töltött kaposzta (stuffed cabbage) and gulyás (goulash). “These dishes have proven to the world that Hungarian gastronomy is good in itself.”

I’ve cooked several recipes from the books so far. Since I have such a sweet tooth, I’ll start with an adaptation of Bereznay’s Görög Citromos Süti (Greek Lemon Cake) from Süteményeskönyv. I used significantly less sugar (both for the cake and the syrup) than the recipe called for, and it turned out sweet enough for everyone. This moist lemony cake is perfect for summertime. It is even better the day after it’s prepared, once the syrup has fully been absorbed.

Görög Citromos Süti
{Greek Lemon Cake}

This recipe is adapted from Tamás Bereznay’s Süteményeskönyv (Boook Kiadó)

For the Cake:
1 lemon, with the rind grated (reserve the juice for the syrup)
3 eggs
300 ml (10 ounces) plain yogurt
200 grams (slightly less than 1 cup) sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
120 grams (1 cup) semolina
200 grams (1 1/2 cups) flour
Pinch of salt

For the Syrup:
100 ml (1/2 cup) water
100 grams (1/2 cup) sugar
3 lemons, with the rinds grated

For the Cake:
Preheat the oven to 160°C (320°F). In a small bowl, combine the eggs, yogurt, and grated lemon rind. In a large mixing bowl, combine the baking powder, flour, semolina, sugar, and the salt. Stir the yogurt mixture into the flour mixture until just combined. Pour into a greased loaf pan and bake for about 50 minutes, until golden brown.

For the Syrup:
Add the water, grated lemon rinds, lemon juice, and sugar to a small saucepan. Cook on a low flame, stirring occasionally, for about ten minutes.

To assemble the Cake:
Prick the cake all over with a fork. Pour the warmed syrup evenly all over the cake. Let the cake fully absorb all of the syrup before serving.

–Carolyn

Share

Verjus from Weninger

I’m always on the lookout for new local products and Bortársasag* is often a good source for interesting products made by local wine makers (I’ve also been meaning to try their wine-stuffed chocolates for awhile). Recently they released verjus—which is the pressed, unfermented juice of unripe grapes—made by Austrian winemaker Franz Weninger. It’s a condiment that was commonly used in the 16th century, fell out of style, and then began reappearing in dishes in American high-end restaurants in recent years. Now, Weninger (who has wineries in Sopron and Villány as well as Austria) has begun producing it in Hungary for the first time this year.

This picture doesn’t do justice to the pretty bright yellow color of the stuff (it’s hard to take decent photos when it gets dark at 4pm), which can be used as a meat tenderizer, in vinaigrettes, in sauces, or as a marinade. It’s sour and acidic, and can often be used for cooking in place of lemon juice. I had good intentions of researching some old recipes to find unique ways of using this little bottle of verjus, but it just ended up sitting around in my kitchen for weeks until I finally just dumped a few big splashes on two whole trouts which were sauteing in my cast iron skillet at the last minute, just before they were ready. It turned out to be some of the best trout that I’ve had in awhile, and I’ve chugged verjus on fish several times since then with equally difficult results. Maybe someday I’ll get around to figuring out something more creative to do with it, although at just 200 ml, this tiny bottle is going fast. It’s surprising that more wine makers don’t release simple products like this. How hard would it be for someone to make some good wine vinegar in Hungary?

* Bortársasag is one of Hungary’s top wine shops with locations around the country. The verjus is 990 HUF a bottle.

–Carolyn

Share

Only in Hungary: Túró Rudi Ice Cream

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