Neighbours

What a start it’s been to life in Hungary.

A walk in the city reveals many hidden things: like this view of a dated inner city courtyard.

Days have consisted of:

• Seeing family.
• Going shopping and finding out where to find the best deals in town are (like TESCO Extra out on Rókusi körút here in Szeged).
• Taking a walk in 39 degree Celsius heat either near water, or while toting potable water.
• Being interviewed by the national M1 News channel on the subject of 39 degree heat while standing in the 39 degree summer heat.
• Finding out where to get the best pastries, bread and coffee (see me me for the particulars).
• Visiting our local government ‘window’ or office for registration, or immigration–just up the street.
• Visiting the central market to buy fresh fare for cooking at home.

And when it comes to cooking at home, there’s nothing like a friendly neighbour to save the day. Only I didn’t need a cup of sugar, but a tablespoon of white vinegar.

It all began at the central market, the Mars Téri Piac. It was one of those mornings where I took our one and half year old son to shop for our weekly groceries. Winding up and down the stalls laden with fresh fare, I spied some yellow string beans. Immediately my mind was flooded with childhood memories of borsó főzelék, and I bought half a kilogram for 350 forint (abbreviated Ft. or HUF).

Fast forward to our apartment. Utilizing our favourite Hungarian recipe website Nosalty, I began cooking. Now I have this habit of repurposing leftovers and making new meals out of them. I’m also told that many men cook this way. Allow me to explain: I had no sour cream, and no vinegar–two very important ingredients for this type of stew. I thought I could pull off this Hungarian dish off without these key ingredients.

I might have been wrong.

I was in the process of putting the finishing touches on the dish. Our son was sleeping, and my darling wife was studying her Hungarian textbook. It didn’t take long to dress and parboil the string beans, and in a flash I had nearly finished . . .

. . . only my főzelék was a little more orange (due to my adding paprika), and was missing a little depth of flavour given that I used Hungarian sunflower oil (as the recipe called for) instead of cooking lard. (And oh, believe me, we are long time real butter and cooking lard converts in our household. Please consider them as viable options for flavourful cooking in your world too!)

It was time to taste the finished product. It was still missing something. I knew I had to ask a neighbour. My darling wife objected, but I was compelled to do so. And did I make the right choice?
I just had to ask. Given that my grandmother is living a few hundred kilometres away and the neighbour is right next door, I caved. I needed someone’s advice.

I asked. It only took moments before she shoved a classic Hungarian housekeeping cookbook in my hands, a bottle of vinegar, and a dollop of heavy sour cream telling me: “tejföl adja azt a jó mélységet, meg az ecet azt az igazi babfőzelék ízet.”
In other words, sour cream gives that real depth, and vinegar the real flavour of the dish.

“Cookbook: Home-keeping Advice.” Thank you to author, Miss Horváth Ilona, and to MNDSZ press, 1956.

I was enlightened.

With my arms full of goodies, I ran home and dashed it all together. And boy, did it taste like the főzelék I grew up eating. Thanks mum and dad! (It might have been just a little better if I didn’t add so much flour to my roux)

Sigh.

Home cooking aside, even here in Hungary life goes on. One summer day melts into the next. Sunshine turns to rain, or into the odd thunder shower here in Szeged, the ‘city of sunshine.’

Today’s outdoor symphony performance, for example, was nearly cancelled due to rain. Tomorrow, however, holds the promise of Beethoven in all his symphonic glory in the Szeged Deo Optimo Maximo (hence DÓM) square.

Summer, too, creeps slowly toward its end; or does it? There are still wines to be tasted, strolls to be taken and much ice cream to be eaten.

One only hopes that wherever you are, either here or abroad, that the summer is sweet, the evenings cool and by the time September rolls around, you have many fond memories to tide you over well into the next season . . .

O Aestas Optimas Maximas!

O Almighty Summer!