September 6, 2024 Judi Cohen
As the Viking Ullur arrived in the heart of Budapest on the Danube River, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. I was finally back in Hungary, where my parents were born, surrounded by the flavors and tastes of my mother’s cooking that shaped my childhood.
The Castle District in Buda, and the Palace District in Pest impressed me with their history and charm, but it was the promise of tasting the foods my mother had lovingly made for me that I was most excited about on this culinary journey cruising in Eastern Europe.
My mom, Katalin Klein, whom we lovingly called Anu, didn’t just cook for our family, she also used her finely honed Hungarian cooking skills in a restaurant she owned in the 1960s after immigrating to Canada.
Strudel King was the first Hungarian Kosher restaurant in Toronto. Located on Bathurst Street in the heart of the immigrant community, it became known for offering the best take-out and eat-in Hungarian food like Stuffed Cabbage (Toltot Kaposta), Stuffed Peppers (Tolted Paprika), Kishka, Cholent, Chicken Paprikas, Chicken Soup, Matzah Balls, and of course Apple, Cherry, and Poppyseed Strudel.
I remember taking the bus with my brother after school every day to Strudel King and doing our homework while we had dinner seated in a red leatherette booth. I never ate in any other restaurants until I was in my late teens, which is when I was introduced to other kinds of foods.
A Viking Cruise and Culinary Journey on the Danube
My culinary journey on Viking’s “Passage to Eastern Europe” Danube River cruise started in Bucharest, Romania, with ports-of-call in small villages and cities in five countries. Visiting places I’d never even heard of before, such as Vidin in Bulgaria, Kalocsa in Hungary, and Osijek in Croatia, as well as big cities like Belgrade in Serbia and Bucharest in Romania, made for an outstanding and somewhat unexpected journey.
Sampling local food and drinks along the way was a highlight both on and off the ship. A shore excursion for dinner and entertainment in Belgrade’s Bohemian District, and lunch in Bucharest’s old city, were opportunities to sample local cuisines, domestic beer and wines.
In Kalocsa, Hungary, a rural town famous for farming and paprika production, I purchased sweet paprika in the Paprika Museum shop. While there are smoky and hot paprikas, I prefer to use only the sweet paprika that my mother used.
In Budapest, Viking Cruises took us to a bustling local market in the heart of Pest. Stalls overflowed with colorful fruits, vegetables, and spices.
I was drawn to a stall selling paprika and fresh goulash. The vendor, noticing my curiosity, offered me a sample of his homemade goulash. The rich, hearty stew was bursting with the flavour of paprika, tender beef, and vegetables. I closed my eyes and savored every spoonful, memories of family dinners flooding my mind.
At a Hungarian Restaurant in Budapest
Eager to explore more, I headed to a traditional Hungarian restaurant across from the market. I couldn’t resist ordering a plate of chicken paprikas (csirke paprikas) with nokedli, a type of Hungarian dumpling. The chicken was tender, cooked to perfection in a creamy paprika sauce. The nokedli, small and bouncy, absorbed the rich flavour of the paprika sauce.
With each mouthful, I felt closer to my mother, as if she were right there beside me, nodding approvingly with each bite.
Out of Budapest in the Village of Szendro
Venturing out of Budapest after the Viking cruise 11-day itinerary ended, I drove to the small village of Szendro, where my mother grew up, before the Holocaust.
As I walked through the narrow streets, I felt a deep connection to my roots. The village hadn’t changed much. Seeing the small schoolhouse, a well, and the playground reminded me of the stories my mother used to tell, and the only remaining photo of children dancing in the playground.
I was invited into the home of an elderly woman named Irene, who lived next to where the synagogue was located. She shared stories of the village before and after World War II, making me feel even more connected to my heritage.
Chilled Sour Cherry Soup – A Childhood Memory
Stopping for lunch at an old-school Hungarian restaurant outside of Szendro, I was once again carried back to my childhood. My mother’s pride were her cherry trees at her house. In the spring, she used the fresh cherries from her trees to make a chilled creamy sour cherry soup, (Meggyleves).
Seeing this on the menu brought tears to my eyes. Every tart mouthful reminded me of my mom’s cherry trees and how she made so many things with the cherries, like jam, soups, strudel, and all sorts of cakes.
No meal would be complete without dessert. I ordered palacsinta, a Hungarian crepe filled with pressed cottage cheese, sugar, and lemon. The crepe-like texture of the outer layer looked just like my mom’s, and the sweet cottage cheese filling oozed out when I cut into it just like I remembered. The palacsinta was served with sprinkled icing sugar that was a new twist.
As I finished my meal, I felt a profound sense of gratitude. This journey has not only allowed me to taste the flavors of my childhood but also to reconnect with my heritage in a meaningful way. Each dish told a story, weaving together the past and the present, bridging the generations.
Moments of Reflection on the Journey
Returning to my Budapest hotel from a day in Szendro, I thought about the warmth of my mother’s kitchen and the love she poured into every meal.
Staying in a Castle Outside of Budapest
Following our stay in Budapest, I drove to a historic castle that had been converted into a luxury hotel. The owners had preserved the Old World charm with antique Hungarian art, porcelain, and furniture.
The lunch and dinner menus included traditional Hungarian foods like a spicy Goulash Soup and fluffy nokedli balls made with sweet cheese. The food was outstanding, but it was the fine porcelain dishes that I recalled my mother served our festive meals on, that made the dining experiences so memorable. My mom had a collection of Hungarian Herend porcelain pieces that she treasured, and I continue to enjoy with my family.
Hungarian Wood Spoons – Souvenirs of my Culinary Journey
I tend not to buy souvenirs during my journeys. However, I made an exception on this cruise. In my suitcase were bags of sweet paprika and small painted spice spoons from Kalocsa, Hungary.
During my stay at the castle I was given some vintage (previously used and well-seasoned) wood spoons. In Hungarian a wood spoon is called a fakanal, which is pronounced “fuck cunall.” It was always the source of much laughter in our home whenever my mother would say the word. To this day, my children still call their wood spoons fakanals and are teaching their children about wood spoons and funny Hungarian words.
Cooking Like Mom
I spoke with a cousin in Budapest asking if he had any traditional family recipes for goulash. He promptly rattled off all the ingredients from the top of his head. I then asked if he knew how much of each ingredient to use and he stared at me for a few seconds and said, “Just keep adding until it tastes good.”
My mother’s recipes were just like that, without measurements or directions. I learned to make the dishes just by watching her, paying close attention to the order in which she added each ingredient and her mixing techniques, and by continually tasting the food as it was cooking.
On a collection of her recipes, I wrote quantities next to each ingredient and a suggested baking or cooking time. I can still make a wicked Chicken Paprikas just like my mom made without a recipe at all, relying on loving memories and lots of tasting with my fakanal! Hungary had welcomed me with open arms and a table full of memories. I am grateful to have experienced this all on my Viking “Passage to Eastern Europe” cruise.
A Delicious Culinary Journey and Reminder of My Roots
This trip was more than a culinary journey; it was a homecoming; a tribute to my mother, and a celebration of the rich cultural tapestry that defined my life. I will carry these flavours and memories with me forever, a delicious reminder of my roots and the love for my mother and father.
This article is featured here in the Food, Wine, Travel Magazine.