Hungarian

Classic Hungarian chicken paprikash is reimagined as a bright pasta dinner, with ground chicken, aromatics, and a dollop of sour cream swirled in for richness.

What’s more comforting than saucy chicken over buttered egg noodles?? Nothing.

Spiced with Hungarian paprika, dill, and thyme, this comforting soup is just what you need when winter seems to go on forever, and ever, and ever…

The technique here is to sear the skin first, then bake the chicken pieces flesh side down—the meat will cook up moist and tender while the skin roasts to a crackling finish.

This dessert of puff pastry layers sandwiched with a thick cream filling is even richer than its French cousin, the Napoleon.

Make somlói galuska in advance: the chocolate-cream “dumplings" require at least eight hours to soak up the golden rum syrup.

The variations of this Hungarian cake are endless, but this one is made with ground hazelnuts lightened with meringue.

This impressive pastry, sometimes spelled Dobos torte, is among the most famous cakes from the Austro-­Hungarian Empire.

This one-pot stew takes its cues from chicken paprikash. Cooking low and slow is the key to getting deep flavor—and ensuring the potatoes are creamy and the chicken is pull-apart tender.

Aranygaluska—also called golden dumpling cake, butter puffs, and monkey bread—has been extolled by Jewish immigrants from Hungary for years.

Is it a dumpling or a noodle? Spaetzle, the beloved dish of Austrians, Germans, Hungarians, and the Swiss, is infinitely easier to make than it is to classify. While some spaetzle dishes are cheesy and rich, this version is lightened with fresh herbs—a lot of them.

Richly colored with paprika, this traditional Hungarian entrée is full bodied and satisfying. It goes well with Balsamic-Marinated Vegetables (page 78).

An Old World comfort dish without the work, these pork chops pair nicely with whole-grain noodles and steamed brussels sprouts.

By curious circumstance, I found myself in Vienna in 1968, shortly after the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia and just over a decade after the Soviet invasion of Hungary. I was there for the International Philosophical Congress, which didn’t hold my interest long. There was much more to see and experience outside the confines of academia. Aside from the eternal beauty of Vienna as a center for music, the fine arts, and fine pastries, the streets were filled with people—Czechs as well as Hungarians—who had taken refuge in the welcoming city following the invasion of their countries. The energizing buzz over the politics of the time was everywhere, expressed in Czech, Russian, Hungarian Magyar (a language unrelated to nearly all other European languages and incomprehensible to ears unfamiliar with it), and in other tongues as well. But, as always, the food served as a binding, cohesive force. The city’s dining establishments, casual bistros and more formal restaurants alike, were filled with east Europeans, Viennese locals, and tourists like me, all looking for something good to eat. In addition to the impossible-to-resist Viennese fare, there were many Hungarian dishes which had become a familiar part of Viennese cooking. That is when and where I discovered the essential tastes and food combinations of east European cuisine, and, more important, that no matter what, food of the homeland is never left behind.

I’m very partial to chicken thighs, with their silky, succulent flesh. Slathered in a BBQ sauce spiked with good Hungarian paprika and made velvety with sour cream, this is a sensuous dish on a cold winter night, especially when served with buttered noodles to sop up all the good sauce.