This is the second summer in a row that we’ve left Budapest and headed to the Hungarian countryside for some falusi turizmus (or “rural tourism”) and we’re already planning our next trip. It was a fantastic week of total isolation spent in a tanya (peasant farm house) on the prairie, not far from Kecskemet. Though it was built just four years ago, the house we rented was constructed in the traditional style with wooden ceiling beams, a thatched roof, and mud brick walls. The only other neighbor, luckily not a close one, was the owners brother-in-law who ran a duck farm, had pet peacocks, and had his shotgun on his shoulder both times we saw him.

We picked fresh vegetables from the owner’s garden in the evenings, and we had access to his homemade apricot pálinka (brandy) stored in the attic and his homemade wine in the cellar. While the Hungarian Great Plain is usually associated with producing massive quantities of undrinkable wine, this stuff was actually pretty decent (even more so when mixed with soda water). It was also the first time that I tasted kövidinka, a native Hungarian grape widely grown on the sandy plain. On the few times that we did leave the place we took trips to swim in the Tisza river and we went to a horse ranch where we saw these Hungarian Grey Cattle.

Since there was little else to do, our days revolved around eating and cooking, and then planning what we would eat next. We cooked a few traditional things like pörkölt (stew) in a bogrács (cauldron). We couldn’t leave without having a szalonnasütes–a favorite Hungarian summer activity–which involves sticking a hunk of fatty bacon and a whole onion on a sharpened stick, roasting it over a fire, and sprinkling the bacon drippings over bread. We made lecsó (pepper and tomato stew) with vegetables from the garden and ate it with túrós csusza (pasta with curd cheese) made from homemade egg noodles and cheese that we bought at the market in Kecskemet.

We even attempted to make kürtőskalács–a yeast-raised dough rolled thin, wrapped around a special wooden contraption, rolled in sugar, and rotated over an open fire until the sugar caramelizes. It wasn’t a successful attempt, and we lost big chunks of dough into the fire (but the leftover dough was great the next morning when we turned it into doughnuts). I’d try it again though, if I can find the kürtőskalács-roasting tool anywhere. The house also had a kemence (a traditional brick oven), which we couldn’t get ourselves organized enough to use since it had to be preheated for three or four hours.

The whole rural tourism thing isn’t as developed in Hungary (and also doesn’t seem to carry as much romance) as it is in other places I’ve visited, particularly Italy where agriturismo holidays have long been promoted. But after doing it a few times, I see no reason to rent a drab hotel room when you can have a whole house and a few acres of land (not to mention the unlimited wine and pálinka) for just 7,000 HUF a night. In Hungary there are many sites like this, this, and this one with listings of countryside rental properties, which seem to vary widely. Traveling like this is a great way to check out other parts of the country and to not feel like such a tourist while doing so. I highly recommend it.

–Carolyn