Hungarian Goulash

I have mixed feelings about Hungarians, almost as much as they do about me. Surprisingly, it's from this complex relationship that my tumultuous love affair with their cuisine begins. While strolling through the bustling and, at times, less-than-pristine streets of Budapest, it struck me. Big cities are meant to be gritty and infuriating; it's almost their defining role in the world. They provoke and enchant you, challenging all your small-city-girl/boy sensibilities until you find yourself savouring new flavours, mingling with unfamiliar people, and breathing different air frequently enough that this blend becomes your next incredible experience.

I'll get straight to the recipe because it's super easy. If you want to connect a bit with Budapest and its people, you can read the short story that follows this delicious cultural meal – a meal that hasn't been Balkanized, except for the Vegeta, but come on, Vegeta is a national treasure.

Quick disclaimer: I linked every ingredient either with an article or picture of it in case there are visual learners who are also cooking beginners.

Ingredients: : 

• Beef Goulash Meet (500 gr) - do as I do in butcher shops, smile and say meet for goulash please hehe
• Golden Onions (500 gr) - I call them golden, because in Montenegro there are these purple ones that are more for salads 
• Paprika (3 generous small spoons, it's supposed to give it that brownish red color) + (sweet and spicy, both if you like pain, only the sweet if you are vanilla) 
•  Vegeta ( Balkan MSG, and if you do not know it or don't have it, you can use any type of dried vegetable mix with salt or MSG added in) + (3 small spoons here too) 
•  Bay Leaf (honestly just put a whole lot beacuse the smell is going to be amazing, so like 6 bay leafs, I don't know, go crazy with it) 
•  A bottle of cheap wine ( I know, contoversial, but are we five star chefs, NO, so? Sirs and sirretts, we budget in this house) 

Preparation: 

• It's super easy but takes a while. Chop up your onions, and if you need help with you onion chopping technique, click on the word chop and discover my favourite tutorial. Your next move is to sauté them in a pot with some oil. The equipment’s should be a wooden cutting board, your sharpest knife (look at this beauty of mine) and a pot with oil to put the onions in right after chopping. 

• After about 10 minutes, add the Vegeta and let them cook for about 15 minutes, allowing them to release their juices. If they seem dry, add a bit of water. Once they're almost caramelized, add the paprika, stir, add water, and then pour in the wine – about a three-second pour, mix it well. After some of the liquid has evaporated, add your meat.  The onions should look like the picture below before you add your meet. 

 

Stir the meat for about a minute, let it cook for 5 minutes, and keep adding water and wine until your 1-liter bottle is about half empty. There should be enough liquid to last for about 30-45 minutes before you need to check on it. Cover the pot with a lid and get on with your life.
Return after a maximum of 45 minutes to stir and add some more water, then go back to your life for another 30 minutes. When you come back, the meat should be so tender it falls apart with a fork, and your goulash is ready.
Remove from heat.
Next you can prepare a pot of water for your potatoes or pasta, depending on what will be your addition to this masterpiece. You can serve in on top of mashed potatoes or pasta. 

But don't be a messy cooking gnome; remove the bay leaves before serving (I went crazy with it as you can see, but I promise it's so tasty).

Bonus tips: For the pasta:  I love the big tubby pasta (this time around I experimented with teeny tiny elbow pasta). However, the best and most to traditional way to eat it is with the hungarian spaetzle, which we can make from scratch another time, but if you are a perfectionist and you want to do it now, you can use this super easy recipe and make them. 

Homelessness and mulled wine

I love people with food. I cooked my first family meal when I was 9 years old and realized that cooking for me was an extension of my feelings, I genuinely could express everything I felt and everything I was, with chopping, baking, sautéing, decorating, gently serving etc. It was all I needed to tell people I loved them. So all of my stories will be like my cooking, an extension of the love I feel, even if it is heavy at times. 

I people watched my entire life. I probably even people watched you, at some point. Came up with all sorts of insane adventures, infidelities and over the top lavish lifestyles. 

Somehow in Budapest, my people watching became darker and more focused on the maximum pain I could infuse the narrative with. 

In the breaks between drinking mulled wine and watching what feet without shoes looked like after they have been walked on for what must have been an entire year, I was completely focused on the darkness. I could see every shade of trauma that would sit in the caffes next to the tram lines, I could smell alcohol and cigarettes burning into people’s childhood memories, slowly making them obsolete. 

Budapest was wonderful, and busy, and huge, but it made me only think about the hardships of living. It made me think about blankets and pillows, and how blessed I was to have mine, especially after realising that I have complained about it not being ''comfy enough'' for a whole year. 

I had my heart broken in Budapest, so many times. Every time I passed the man with those walked on bare feet; I felt a fragment of my humanity disappear. When did we start passing them by? These are real people that carry deep heartbreak, often born from circumstances beyond their control. Their stories resonate with the echoes of lost dreams, shattered lives, and the harshness and cruelty of a society that easily turns a blind eye. There was no need for me to infuse pain into their narratives, it was very much there, plain as day. 

So, day in and day I out, I drank mulled wine, with tears in my eyes I passed the same man on the street, too afraid to approach him, too poor to help him. I am sure that whenever he saw me, he felt the same way. 

My Budapest adventure was of course more than mulled wine and homelessness, but more on that when we make Garlic soup and Langos!