Meggyes Lepény {Recipe}

{Sour Cherry Cake}

On my first visit to Hungary, shortly after Gábor and I met, we spent nearly two months eating, drinking, and traveling around the country. I loved being immersed in this new country, and taking in all of the new flavors and sights. I especially loved the cherries. On a short trip to Balaton we stayed at a panzió with a cherry tree in the yard, and we must have spent hours under (and in) that tree eating the cherries as fast as we could pick them. We somehow even managed to gather enough to fill a bag to eat on the train ride home. Ever since, when I think of summer in Hungary, I think cherries. And when I think cherries, I crave this cherry cake that Gábor’s mother bakes throughout the summer (and with home-canned cherries during the rest of the year).

These days, the offerings at the market change so quickly. From one day to the next, it seems, the flats full of strawberries disappeared, and gave way to cherries—sweet cherries (cseresznye), sour cherries (meggy), and black cherries (fekete cseresznye), from all over the country. I haven’t yet seen any white cherries—which little old ladies often sell bags of on the street. I’ve been buying a kilo of cherries nearly every day since they’ve arrived. Finally, yesterday, I was able to pit them faster than the kids could eat them so I could make this cake. The recipe is courtesy of my anyós, Kati néni. For another version of sour cherry cake, see Sarah’s recipe (which she also learned from her Hungarian mother-in-law).

Meggyes Leppény
{Sour Cherry Cake}

200 grams (slightly more than ¾ cup) plus 2 tablespoons sugar
100 grams (7 tablespoons) butter, plus extra for greasing the pan
4 eggs
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 heaping teaspoons cinnamon
150 ml (1/2 cup) milk
600 grams (21 ounces) walnuts, ground
Grated zest of one lemon
5 tablespoons apricot jam
½ teaspoon vanilla
250 grams (1 2/3 cups) plus two tablespoons flour
1 kilogram (a little over 2 pounds) fresh sour cherries, pitted

Preheat oven to 200° C (400° F). Grease a 22 x 30 cm (13” x 9”) baking pan (or a shallower one, if you prefer) with butter and sprinkle with flour.

In a small bowl, mix two tablespoons flour, two tablespoons sugar, and one teaspoon cinnamon. Sprinkle over the cherries and stir gently to cover the cherries. Set aside.

In a large bowl, beat the butter with the remaining sugar with a hand mixer until it is fluffy and pale yellow, about five minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, and beat until well incorporated. Add all other ingredients (except for cherries), and mix until everything is just incorporated (don’t over mix).

Transfer the batter to the baking pan and spread evenly. Evenly sprinkle the cherries on top. Bake until cake is browned, about 60 minutes.

–Carolyn

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Zöldborsó Főzelék {Recipe}

{Creamed Green Peas}

I wish I could tell you that I shelled these peas myself, but I didn’t. Now that peas (cukorborsó or zöldborsó) are in season in Hungary, most market vendors shell peas when they have a few minutes of free time, so they can sell them at a premium. I don’t know how I got inspired to make főzelék, a common vegetable dish in Hungary, when I saw these gorgeous freshly shelled peas (especially since I have never been much of a fan of the dish). Főzelék has no real translation (I usually translate it as “creamed vegetables” or “stewed vegetables”). I usually find the vegetables too overcooked and mushy for my taste, and the sauce to plentiful and bland. But my kids come home raving about the főzelék that they eat nearly every day at school, and there are a few different fast-food chains in Hungary specializing in the dish. So it clearly has many fans.

It is quick and easy to make, and there are a few different ways to do it. The dish can be made of any type of vegetable, and essentially just involves cooking the vegetables in a bit of fat and water and then making a sauce by adding the cooked vegetables to roux or adding sour cream mixed with a little flour at the end (called habarás, a common method of thickening soups and other dishes in Hungarian cooking). Some dishes also call for milk in the sauce. If you have any fresh herbs on hand, feel free to stir those in near the end.

Főzelék is usually served with a piece of fried or roasted meat on top, or an egg. These days tökfőzelék, made from thinly grated strips of pale green summer squash and dill, is available on menus throughout the city. But there is something about the sweet crunch of fresh peas that made them the perfect vegetable on this rare occasion when I had the urge to cook főzelék. I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to get the kids to eat asparagus splashed with lemon juice and olive oil for the past few weeks. But this pea főzelék very quickly disappeared, and the experts—the kids—gave it high marks. Maybe sour cream and bacon are all it takes to get kids to eat their vegetables?

Zöldborsó Főzelék
{Creamed Green Peas}

A few slices of smoked bacon, diced
450 grams (1 pound) peas, shelled
1 teaspoon sugar
Salt
1 Tablespoon flour
150-200 grams (5-7 ounces) sour cream

In a skillet or pot, over low heat, slowly sauté the bacon until it is a little crispy and most of the fat has been melted. Add the peas, sugar, a pinch of salt, and half cup of water (more if needed). Cook for about 15 minutes (or until taste), until the peas turn lighter green. Meanwhile, mix the flour and the sour cream (use more sour cream if you like your főzelék with lots of sauce). Thin the sour cream mixture with a few spoonfuls of the liquid from the peas. When the peas are cooked, add the sour cream mixture and cook, while stirring constantly, for about three more minutes.

–Carolyn

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Markets as Museums

The New York Times travel section last weekend was devoted to food related travel, and there was a nice piece by Mimi Sheraton about her visits to some of the world’s greatest markets and their cultural importance. I’ve always counted visiting markets as one of the highlights of traveling to new places, even more so than museums. Exploring a country’s food and shopping style gives you a fascinating peek into new cultures. I even love exploring grocery stores in new countries–with their funny packaging, languages I don’t understand, produce I might not often see, and products which I’m not sure what do do with or how to eat. Although when I’m traveling it’s always frustrating to see something that looks so good (or unusual) and all I want to do is take it home and cook it, but can’t because I’m staying in a hotel.

Sheraton writes:

“IT is a given that no serious traveler would forgo visits to museums, cathedrals, castles, monuments and legendary streets. Yet food markets deserve equally high billing on a must-see list. For as inspiring as the more standard sights can be, they do not rival the ebullience of modern-day markets and their colorful links to the economy, customs and even dialects of a city. In a world ever more homogenized, food markets afford visitors one of the few opportunities to glimpse locals going about one of their essential daily chores.”

I couldn’t agree more. I’ve always loved markets and trips to Eastern Market, my neighborhood market in DC, were part of my weekend routine while I was growing up. Eastern Market is a true neighborhood market where people will go just to see who they’ll run into, even if they don’t plan to buy anything.

Budapest’s markets, on the other hand, are more straightforward places where serious shoppers stock their baskets and bags with little need to socialize. I was happy to see that Sheraton mentioned Budapest’s Central Market Hall in her article. I always love shopping there, but it feels tame in comparison to some of Budapest’s less central markets like the Bosnyák tér Market and the Lehel téri Market.If you’re visiting Budapest the Central Market Hall should be the first market you visit, but you’ll get so much more of the “living theater” that Sheraton writes about by checking out the city’s more neighborhood-oriented markets.

“Attending this living theater, one can assess the local economy by noting the quality and variety of foods available and compare prices to our own. One can observe how locals treat one another.”

–Carolyn

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Pumpkin Seed Oil and Bread

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
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Summer at Fény utca

One of the things I like best about living in Budapest is doing my shopping at the markets, especially in August when there’s so much good stuff there. My neighborhood market, the Fény utca piac, also happens to be my favorite market in the city. On some days old ladies come and set up tables to sell their farm-fresh eggs, as well as homemade butter, sour cream, and cheese. There are good butchers, especially the one who specializes in Mangalica pork and Hungarian Grey beef (two Hungarian heritage breeds that were in danger of extinction not too long ago but have made somewhat of a comeback since breeding efforts were revitalized).

But, today my interest was solely with the late summer fruits and vegetables, some of which won’t be around for much longer. There’s a nice mix of vendors here selling stuff produced by independent growers and producers (opposed to those selling only the stuff that comes from Budapest’s wholesale market). I bought two tiny Ogen melons, which were too cute to resist. Almost like honeydews, these two tasty
melons were less than 200 HUF ($1). Raspberries aren’t as plentiful (or as cheap) now as they were in July when I bought them in massive quantities and made jam, ice cream, and tarts with them, but they’re still around. And then there were the figs for just 60 HUF each (about 30 cents).

The fruit quickly disappeared, but I still have these gorgeous rókagombak (yellow chanterelles) from the Mátra hills. A forager had a pile of these earthy mushrooms and nothing else spread out on a tablecloth. They’re usually as expensive as they are sought after, but these were just 300 HUF for 100 grams (which works out to a little more than $7 a pound). I haven’t decided yet what to do with these, but I know it will be something simple like sautéing them in butter and tossing them with pasta and herbs or just adding them to an omelet.

It’s often grimly noted that in America it’s less affordable to eat fesh fruits and veggies, and cheaper and easier to buy the mass produced energy dense foods that are so high in sugar and fat. In Budapest, I’m happy to say, that isn’t so.

–Carolyn

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