Moving to a new strange place

I almost didn’t come out to Budapest. It took the sage advice of two buddies to convince me to come out. Six months, I figured, I’ll see how it goes.

Twenty-two months later I am leaving Budapest with a mix of feelings. I’m excited about the next adventure in a strange place. I’m sad to leave an incredible city where I’ve made great friends.

Thankfully the sadness is softened by the fact that I’m only going to Germany. I will come back, which is good because I don't like goodbyes and I really enjoyed discovering this city.

Coming here was indeed the right decision. 

See you all again soon!

Marshall's Guide to Hungarian Cooking

Photo by  Katalin Varga

I recently tried cooking goulash. It wasn’t a failure, but I wouldn’t say it was a resounding success either. It was decent, edible... and we’ll leave it at that.

The edible goulash is my most recent foray into Hungarian cuisine. Scrambled eggs with onions and paprika was my first, and easiest, move – though it took a few attempts to get it right (fry the onions first, sprinkle in the paprika, wait a minute, add the eggs). I’ve made pörkölt – a paprika flavoured meat stew – with some success and no complaints (although I was the only one eating it).

Lately, my best dish has been the lécso. This is paprika-flavoured stew (yeah, I put paprika in almost everything) of onions, peppers, and tomatoes with meat or sausage, or meat and sausage, or meat, sausage, and eggs. 

All I knew about Hungarian cuisine when I arrived was goulash, but I’ve gotten good at making lécso. It’s cheap and healthy and you can put in as much meat as you want, because a meal ain’t a meal in Hungary unless there's meat and onions.

I’m a lazy cook too. I’m not good at fussing over ingredients or worrying about spices and all that junk. I just want to throw my stuff into a pot with a bunch of paprika and eat it. If I get leftovers for a few lunches, even better.

Lécso suits my laziness. it’s a breeze to make and what can go wrong with a food that includes a lot of onions and paprika? Start with the lécso and see how Magyar you get in the kitchen.

All you need is:

Fatty bacon (You can use oil, but you lose out on the Hungarian-ness)

A bunch of tomatoes

A bunch of large onion 

Two bunches of big red or green

A chili pepper

Smoked paprika (the spice)

Sausage (Hungarians use a sort of Frankfurter, I like spicy sausage. But really, almost any meat is fine.)

Cook the bacon until the fat is melted and add your onions. Cook those until they’re soft-ish and add two teaspoons of the smoked paprika. Cook for a little bit longer, then add the peppers. Drink some wine, let the peppers soften, add the sausage. Let those cook a bit then add the tomatoes and one more teaspoon of paprika. Put the lid on and let it all stew. If you're feeling adventurous, whisk a few eggs and stir them into the stew. Serve with a slab of bread (I like the dark rye) and have some more wine.

Windsprints on the Danube and into the Hills

Buda Hills

I moved from apartment to apartment often in Toronto, which meant there were always new neighbourhoods to discover. Running was the best way to get to know a new hood. Going out for a half hour meant you could run along the streets, explore little side alleys, and hidden corners of the area. When I was living in Cracktown I also discovered the sketchy courtyards of Regent’s Park – a great place to work on my windsprints.

I brought this habit to Budapest. Running along the Danube and seeing the sights, ducking into side streets in Pest or Buda. There is plenty to see. Looking for a challenge, I even tried running up Gellert Hill – a brutal, heart-hammering run with a view of the city at the end.

Being an impatient runner, I like to finish my runs in less than 45 minutes, so no races or half marathons or anything like that. I run, I see stuff, and I eat right away afterwards. But I couldn’t pass an invitation from two colleagues to join a trail running group. The group meets up in the hills and run 10km every Tuesday. I wasn’t even sure if I had ran that far before, but I joined.

I showed up in my usual running gear, which isn’t running gear: a black Cephalic Carnage hoodie and a pair of cross trainers. The rest of the runners wore sturdy trail running shoes. I was handed my headlamp and off we went.

I was hooked. My heavy metal hoodie became a common sight on the trails, showing up every couple of weeks (I was alternating between squash and trail running). It turned out my near-suicidal runs up Gellert prepared me for the rugged Buda Hills.

It’s just nice and pretty up there. You’re not dodging traffic, or Regent Park gangsters. You’re running through the trees breathing fresh air and seeing incredible views of the city. I kept up the trail running until neck problems (from other things) put me out of commission.

The running group with
the clueless metal hoodie-wearing foreigner in the middle.

Trail Running to Trail Walking

The first time I took to the hills for something other than a death-defying run was a picnic with Kata. We packed our food, packed our wine, even packed glasses, but didn’t bother checking the weather. When we reached our desired picnic spot, the storm clouds rolled in and the lightning flashed before we could set up.

Seeking shelter, we rode the Children’s Railway until the rain cleared up and got off at the end of the line. With the ground too soggy for picnicking we settled on a bench at a corner of a small intersection. We ate our soggy crackers and cheese, and drank our wine as cars and dogwalkers awkwardly passed us.

For those less inclined to running or walking up sharp inclines, Budapest’s transit authority runs a few unconventional modes of transportation up into the hills. Along with the Children’s Railway, there’s a chair lift. Mountain bikers without the vigor for the climb up can be seen ascending on the cog train. The transportation options defy conventionality, which is so common you might as well consider it conventional.

Running, walking, or getting stuck in a rainstorm, I have returned to the hills over and over again. Kata and I have hiked the trails and I’ve enjoyed a few BBQs at Normafa with fellow Canadian and head chef, Joe. 

It’s rare that in a major city, you can head for the hills in the early afternoon and be back in time for dinner and drinks in the evening. What’s rarer still is that in Budapest all of this wild nature is only a tram ride away. It’s a nature-loving quality that’s unique to Budapest and something I did not expect.

Chairlift yourself.

Another BBQ at Normafa.

Gellert Hill, the site of many humbling, stumbling runs.