I’ve been drooling over the pictures of the Hungarian food blog Chili & Vanilia for months, so when I discovered the story about what Hungarian goulash is and what it is not there (in English, no less), I re-remembered pörkölt and naturally had to try the recipe over the weekend. I’m all about edible souvenirs, so I was eager to use up the Hungarian paprika I had hoarded on a visit to Budapest. Fearing that my paprika might be a bit stale, I threw in a tiny dried chili which gave the sauce subtle fire.

I also sourced the Internet for instructions for Hungarian noodles (galuska). Lacking the appropriate tool, a galuskaszaggató (very similar to a spätzle maker, a kitchen tool I’ve always wanted), I had to resort to making a firmer regular pasta dough that I cut by hand.

P̦rk̦lt РHungarian Beef Stew

(quoting, with slight modifications, Chili&Vanilia)

4 servings

1 kg beef for stews, cubed
2 big onions, finely chopped
4-5 tbsp canola oil
3-4 tbsp Hungarian paprika powder
1 green pepper
1 tsp salt
1 tsp freshly ground black pepper
(1 peperoncino)

Heat oil in a saucepan. Add the finely chopped onions and cook until translucent. Now comes an important secret step: remove the saucepan from the heat and now add the paprika – this is very important as if you would do this step still on the heat, the paprika could burn from the sudden heat and get bitter. Put it back, add beef cubes and stir so that the spicy onion mix covers the meat evenly. Cover with about 100-150 ml of water so that the liquid doesn’t completely cover the meat. Add the sliced green pepper, salt, black pepper (and peperoncino, if using). Simmer covered on very low heat for about 1-1.5 hours. After 1 hour, check, add a litle more water if necessary, so the stew doesn’t burn. Depending on the thickness of the sauce, cook for 10-15 minutes uncovered so that all the liquid reduces and all what you get is a spicy, thick sauce which covers the meat. It tastes even better reheated.

The resulting slow-cooked stew had a soothing transgenerational vibe, my mother and grandmother would feel very comfortable making and eating it (minus the chili) and I will definitely make it again. The secret step really circumvented burned paprika – I definitely remember the bitter taste from previous not-so-successful experiments. BTW, in the off-beat horror movie Kontroll, filmed entirely in the timelessly elegant metro system of Budapest (this film has some coolest architectural shots of any movie in recent memory), one of the main characters recites a related recipe for pig feet that quotes the same secret step. So perhaps it’s not so secret after all ;)

My everyday life is totally entrenched on the West Side of Manhattan, mainly in Morningside Heights, West Harlem, and Washington Heights – areas pretty firmly off the tourist map. Inspired by the sunny weather, I decided to break the mold and walk across Harlem and El Barrio to Upper East Side, in search of an appropriate dessert in the former Central European enclave of Yorkville. Unfortunately, I found that 86th Street was completely taken over by chain stores from Middle America. The likes of GAP, Banana Republic, and Barnes & Noble almost completely obscured what apparently used to be Little Germany. Some vestiges remained: I crossed over to Second Avenue and stopped by at the Schaller & Weber delicatessen (established in 1937) where German-speaking Hausfraus shopped for Pumpernickel and goose liverwurst; I did, too, and also noticed that the deli had a fairly impressive selection of Nordic products, including half a dozen varieties of pickled herring and Swedish Läkerol pastilles. In the next block, I finally spotted a Hungarian bakery. It looked brand new, definitely not a relic from the pre-War era. Inside, the cakes looked delicious and rich, but I couldn’t spot Dobostorta, my favorite. Some of the pastries were shrinkwrapped, too – never a good sign.

I gave up on Hungary and settled for the next best thing, one of the well-hidden gems in the neighborhood, a tiny German bookstore at Neue Galerie on 86th St and Fifth Avenue that has exquisite books I’d never notice anywhere else. The museum itself is very small, yet it features superb Austrian and German art from the early 20th century (Klimt, Schiele, Grosz, and Dix among others). It also the home of the lovely Café Sabarsky, very Viennese in atmosphere and appropriate for browsing the bookstore finds, although I doubt I’ll ever venture there again because I got a violent food poisoning from their Weisswurst last winter.

On the way back home, on a bus slowly inching forward along the northern edge of Central Park, I realized I would not have needed to leave my neighborhood after all. From the M4 bus window, I registered The Hungarian Pastry Shop on 110th and Amsterdam: the ever-popular hangout of procrastinating students, the backdrop to a scene in Woody Allen’s Husbands and Wives, and certainly the home of Dobostorta.

P̦rk̦lti Рliharuoka jota me ei-unkarilaiset kutsumme gulassiksi

(resepti lainattu Chili&Vanilialta)

4:lle

1 kg pitkään haudutukseen sopivaa kuutioitua naudanlihaa, esim naudan lapaa
2 isoa sipulia hienona silppuna
4-5 rkl ruokaöljyä
3-4 rkl unkarilaista paprikajauhetta
1 vihreä paprika
1 tl suolaa
1 tl vastajauhettua mustapippuria
(1 pikkuinen kuivattu chilipippuri)

Kuumenna öljy isossa paistinkasarissa. Kuullota hienoksi hakattu sipuli. Ota kasari pois tulelta, hämmennä paprikajauhe sipuliin (tämä vaihe on oleellinen, se estää paprikaa palamasta kitkeräksi karstaksi). Laita takaisin lämmölle, sekoita joukkoon lihapalat siten että ne peittyvät kauttaaltaan sipuli-paprikaseokseen. Lisää 1-1,5 dl vettä – veden ei tarvitse peittää lihaa kokonaan. Lisää myös vihreä paprika, suola ja pippuri (ja chilipippuri). Hauduta matalalla lämmöllä 1-1,5 tuntia, lisää vettä tarvittaessa jos näyttää siltä että muhennos on kuivumassa kattilan pohjaan. Mikäli lihan ollessa pehmeää muhennos on kovin vetistä, kiehuta 10-15 min kovemmalla tulella siten että liika neste haihtuu pois. Tarjoa tuorepastan kanssa – unkarilaisten perinteenä on tehdä tämän kanssa pehmeästä pastataikinasta galuska-nuudeleita. Muhennos paranee vielä maultaan seisottuaan yön yli.

Instead of celebrating Mardi Gras in a skimpy costume to the beat of steel drums in Trinidad, I’m stuck in freezing cold New York stuffing two gigantic suitcases, preparing to take off for Finland. On days like this when food is just an afterthought, I often stop by the wonderful Japanese-Korean convenience store in my neighborhood, m2m, to pick up a tray of sushi and a few contrasting kimchi. (Boringly enough, I always choose the standard-issue white radish pickled in hot red pepper sauce, although they also carry a dozen more exotic varieties, such as lotus root, squid, or dried shrimp). Best of all, the store is cheap, cheap, cheap, at least by Manhattan standards.

I’ve never really noticed before that they have a tiny fresh produce section tucked away in the dark back corner. Among the vegetables, I was drawn to the alluringly thick fresh jumbo udon noodles, essentially soups in a box. (See this site for more udon ideas – Engrish alert! If you are stuck with the more common instant ramen, check out this quirky Seattle-based website.) Because of the bone-chilling breeze blowing down the river, a bowl of hearty soup sounded a lot more appealing than cold pieces of nigiri and maki.

At home, I quickly boiled some water and, in futile efforts to get rid off stuff that will spoil while I’m gone, threw in some mushrooms and vegetables from the fridge. Normally I’m not a huge fan of the MSG-laden flavor sachets that come with many instant noodles, but the one accompanying the jumbo noodles tasted just fine. Best of all, I was slurping piping hot soup within ten minutes of arriving home.

Quick Udon Noodle Soup

1 serving

5 dl (2 cups) boiling water
1 pkg fresh udon noodles or dried noodles
the flavor sachet of the noodles (this contained soy sauce, fish stock, sugar, salt, powdered kelp, and MSG)
4-5 fresh mushrooms
a handful of baby bok choy
1 sliced spring onion
2 hot thai chilli peppers

Add the noodles to the boiling water, boil for 2 min. Slice the mushrooms, chillies, spring onion and gently pull apart the bok choy. Add the contents of the flavor sachet and all fresh ingredients to the soup, boil for 2 minutes, and serve.

I accompanied the soup with white radish kimchi and warm sake, and had hot steamed Chinese custard buns for dessert. Yum!

I’m sure many of you fellow foodies get occassional nagging cravings that can’t be cured by any other means than a proper cooking session with the right ingredients. In my case the problem often is that I don’t exactly know what I want. A few days ago I was once again unsatisfied with my planned meal – can’t even remember what I was supposed to cook that day – until I realized I had to have meatballs. Preferably simmered in a thick, hearty, Italian tomato sauce. Trivial, you may think, but not exactly for me. I’ve never been that big on pasta, and thus rarely have it ex the omnipresent bolognese (can you spell cafeteria food…)

I started a fierce googling session with search terms such as “best italian pasta”, “marinara sauce”, “italian meatballs” etc. I read through heaps of recipes, many of them very tempting. Unfortunately all of them called for some ingredient or two I didn’t have, and I definitely wasn’t on a mood for a shopping trip. Luckily one of the joys of cooking is improvising. I decided to use whatever I happened to have in hand… The result?

*drum roll*

Antti’s Fusion Meatballs With Sepia Colored Spaghetti

Serves 5 (540 kcal / serving)

For the meatballs:

750 g lean ground lamb
200 g Greek Feta, crumbled
a bunch of fresh parsley, chopped
2 cm fresh ginger, shredded
1/2 pkg Shan Tikka Seekh Kabab BBQ Mix

For the sauce:

1 big yellow onion
4+ cloves of garlic
4 fresh caffir lime leaves, chopped (double if dried)
1 can (any) pasta sauce with olives
1 kg crushed tomatoes
some oregano
some basil
a pinch of sugar
a bunch of fresh cilantro, chopped
a chunk of dried tamarind
some olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 175 C (350 F). Mix all the meatball ingredients well; make sure the spice mix is evenly distributed in the ground meat. Thanks again, Meena, for introducing me to the wonderful world of Shan spice mixes! Roll the meat into small balls with your hands, and set aside. Makes 30-40 meat balls.

Heat a little bit of olive oil in a pan, and sauté the onions and garlic until golden brown, about 3 minutes. Add the rest of the listed ingredients, and simmer over medium heat for 20-30 minutes.

When the sauce is ready, pour a little bit in a 10-15 cm deep baking dish. Add the meatballs and the sauce in layers until everything is in the pot covered in sauce. Cook for 45-60 minutes.

Serve on top of pasta with grated parmesan reggiano. I really liked the contrast of the black sepia colored pasta, definitely worth trying! I love everything lamb (and goat), so the meat balls were good, IMO. The pasta sauce was nice too; I especially liked the aroma of the kaffir lime leaves and the tamarind paste.

This recipe was influenced by various recipes I saw while looking for the ultimate meat ball & sauce combo. I’d be foolish to compare my resulting dish with those tried and true Italian recipes many of you know, but I enjoyed eating mine with its many tastes from around the world.

Penne alla Vodka on italialainen keksintö, joskin Italiasta sitä on nykyisin melko vaikea löytää. Ruokalajin historia juontaa 1970-luvulle, jolloin vodka oli vielä tuntematonta Italiassa, ja maahantuojat tekivät kaikkensa saadakseen sen tunnetuksi. Yksi markkinointikikka oli reseptikilpailun järjestäminen, ja lopputuloksena oli tämä votkakastike. 70-luvun puolivälissä se oli varsinainen trendipasta, mutta nykyisin Penne alla Vodkaa löytää parhaiten Amerikasta, jossa se on erittäin suosittua.

Bostonissa lempi-italialaisravintolani oli Brooklinessa sijaitseva Vinny Testa’s, ja siellä herkullisin annos oli heidän Penne alla Vodka makealla italialaisella fenkolimakkaralla ja Asiago-juustolla höystettynä. Mmm! Annos oli edullinen, vain kymmenen euroa, mutta niin iso, että siitä riitti syötävää kahdelle tai toinen ateria vielä kotiin viemiseksi. Söinkin monesti jääkaappikylmää pastaa yöpalaksi. Herkkua!

Tämä Rachael Rayn resepti ei sisällä lihaa, mutta jauheliha tai italialainen tuoremakkara sopii sekaan oivallisesti. Kastike on todella helppo ja nopea valmistaa – se on oikeastaan aivan tavallinen tomaatti-kermakastike, johon on lisätty votkaa. Aromi on kuitenkin uniikki, joten ei muuta kuin kokeilemaan.

Penne alla Vodka

kahdelle (600 kcal / annos)

1/2 rkl öljyä
1/2 rkl voita
2 shalottisipulia
2-4 valkosipulin kynttä
6 cl maustamatonta votkaa
1,25 dl kanalientä (kuutiosta tehty ok)
400 g tölkki karkeaa tomaattimurskaa
225 g penne rigateja
0,6 dl kermaa (Valion 10% 3 juuston ruokakerma sopi kivasti)
tummaa Maizenaa suurustamiseen
suolaa, pippuria
10 tuoretta basilikan lehteä

Hienonna shalotit ja valkosipulin kynnet. Kuumenna voi ja öljy kasarissa, ja kuullota shalotteja ja valkosipuleita 3-5 minuuttia, kunnes kauniin ruskettunutta. Lisää kanaliemi ja tomaattimurska sekä mausta suolalla ja pippurilla. Jätä porisemaan hiljakseen.

Kiehauta iso kattilallinen vettä, lisää reilusti suolaa ja keitä pennejä valmistajan ohjeen mukaan (noin 10-15 min), kunnes al dente.

Lisää kerma ja votka kastikkeeseen, ja poista liedeltä, kun se alkaa kuplia uudelleen. Jos kastike vaikuttaa liian juoksevalta, suurusta kourallisella tummaa Maizenaa. Valuta pasta ja sekoita kastikkeeseen silputun basilikan kanssa. Tarjoile heti raastetun parmesanin kanssa.

Rachael Ray (yllä) ei ole vielä tunnettu ainakaan Suomessa, mutta Yhdysvalloissa (ja viime kuulemani mukaan Australiassa) hän on supersuosittu TV-kokki Food Networkilla. Rachael on kirjoittanut myös lukuisia keittokirjoja (joista yhden sain Annalta joululahjaksi, Thanks!). The New York Timesissä ollut artikkeli viime syksyltä summaa Rachaelin saavutukset:

Though the nation’s food elite might cringe, Ms. Ray, 37, is one of the most influential people cooking today. Let the big-name chefs fuss with foams and sous vide. She’ll stick with hot dog nachos and “jambalika,” a dish that is kind of like jambalaya. With more than 4 million books in print and four shows on the Food Network, Ms. Ray has shown America the way back to the kitchen.

En ole myöskään ainoa, jonka mielestä Rachael on söpö-Rachael:

Her mother answers her daughter’s fan mail, which can range from children’s drawings to marriage proposals to letters from recently widowed senior citizens.

“She’s big with the guys, let me tell you,” her mother said.

Lopuksi vielä hieman silmäniloa ainakin miespuolisille Taikinapojan lukijoille. Amerikan FHM (For Him Magazine) julkaisi artikkelin Rachaelista vuonna 2003, josta The New York Times kirjoitti seuraavasti:

“The shots feature Ms. Ray in short-shorts with an exposed midriff, licking chocolate off a big wooden spoon, eating a strawberry and sitting in a sink, laughing as suds cascade down her curvaceous thighs.”

Mitäpä tuohon lisäämään muuta kuin itse kuvat :)

Kun kiipesimme pari viikkoa sitten Pueblan osavaltiossa Meksikossa turpeiden alle hautautuneen Cholulan intiaanipyramidin päälle tähystelemään kaupunkia ympäröiviä tulivuoria, kengänterä rasahti äkkiä tutuntuoksuiseen marjaterttuun: löysin elämäni ensimmäisen villin rosépippuripuun.

Rosépippurilla ei ole mitään tekemistä tavallisen pippurin kanssa – makukin on lähempänä pihkaa tai tilliä. Pastanjauhajien lohipasta toi mieleen vanhan suosikkirosépippurireseptin. Törkeän helppo kastike ei vaadi lainkaan kypsentämistä.

Rosepippuri-kylmäsavukirjolohipasta

100-150 g fusilleja tai pennejä per aterioitsija

tuorekastike 1-2:lle hengelle

1/2 Р1 dl kevyt-cr̬me frąchea
n. 100 g kylmäsavukirjolohta ohuiksi nauhoiksi leikattuna
2 tl tillin siemeniä tai 2 rkl tilliä
valmiin annoksen pinnalle 1 tl rosépippureita sormissa murskattuna

Keitä pasta. Pastan keittoveden kannattaa olla yhtä suolaista kuin Välimeri ;)

Sekoita pastan kypsymistä odotellessa kaikki kastikeainekset paitsi rosépippuri keskenään erillisessä kulhossa. Valuta pasta lävikössä, kaada se takaisin kattilaan, ja kaada päälle kermainen lohisekoitus. Älä laita kattilaa enää laita liedelle – kastiketta ei ole tarkoitus kypsentää – mutta sekoittele läpikotaisin ja anna kastikeaineksien imeytyä pastaan minuutin verran. Annostele lautasille. Ripottele annoksen päälle murskattu roseepippuri mausteeksi ja koristeeksi.

Jos haluat todella tyylitellä ruoan väreillä, voi käyttää mustekalan musteella värjättyä pastaa. Ja rutikuiva jääkylmä eteläranskalainen rosé voisi olla ihan hauska viinipari tälle ruoalle.

Mikäli haluaa pastasta lihansyöjän variaation, korvaa kylmäsavukirjolohi rasvattomalla viipaloidulla keitto- tai palvikinkulla, jätä tillinsiemenet pois ja korvaa rosepippuri viherpippurilla.