My trip to Hungary this summer was different from those before. It was my first visit in 3 years, my first time back after the death of my maternal grandparents with whom I stayed every summer since we moved from Budapest in ’99. It was my first time going back as a world traveler, a food obsesionada,…
In the village of Horány on the southern tip of Szentendre Island, which floats in the Danube between the Danube Bend and Budapest, there is an older lady referred to by most as “the néni.” The néni runs a cafe at the bottom of a path leading up to a riverbank that is used as a beach in the summertime. The cafe is…
If someone had told me this time last month that the best rabbit I will have ever eaten would be served to me at a restaurant in Balaton, I would’ve laughed a hearty laugh indeed. And if the person followed up with a whisper, “And it will be locally sourced,” I would’ve furrowed my brow angrily…
The word menza means “cafeteria” in Hungarian and is often associated with institutional eateries of Hungary’s Socialist Era. During this time food options were limited to simple and substantial dishes such as vegetable főzelék served with fried meat, always preceded by some sort of watery soup. Flavors weren’t particularly interesting but they were ones that a hardworking comrade could easily learn to love when they signified sustenance…
“No, you need to reserve before.” My heart sank. “You need to call ahead to book the tours. We work all day.” I had dragged my family up a mountain range on a winding path amidst a series of summer showers that practically blinded my sister-in-law as she drove. Two years ago in Hong Kong I…
My sister-in-law seemed determined enough when she recommended a place to get lunch last week. I found no reason to protest. We drove to A Szűcs Fogadója, located half way between Gödöllő and Szada about a half hour road trip from Budapest. It’s a tavern-type establishment with not the most scenic of surroundings – a busy highway and a…
“Neeeeeeeeeeeeee,” comes the loud protest from a Hungarian child served a bowl full of főzelék. They don’t like it too much. I, on the other hand, have come to crave the stuff often. I guess the distance from this childhood staple has boosted my fondness for it and, when home, I’m never ashamed of asking for it. I beg…
Lake Balaton is often referred to as the “Hungarian Sea” and holds a deeply meaningful place in the hearts of many Magyars. Only two hours by train from Budapest, it’s a place to get away from the urban grime and unbearable summer heat of the sweltering capital and immerse oneself in a weekend of bare feet and…
No family trip to the Adriatic is complete without a celebratory dinner at some seafood restaurant near the water. There’s usually good bread and oil, a wide selection of local wines and giant scampi to pose for vacation photos with. Awkwardly shaped sunburns from earlier that day fade in gradually, the red glow contrasting noticeably…
We rolled carefully up the Julian Alps on what turns out were four defected tires, my brother, his wife and my two year old niece in stow. The view from those winding cliffside roads was mesmerizing: green hills, snow capped mountains, a valley whose depth is difficult enough to absorb on one’s own and impossible for a camera lens to take…
That Best Bite 