During the planning stages of our Budapest trip, I had read another blogger’s post in which she took a cooking class in Greece while there on a solo trip. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in my head. Aaron and I love eating, we love trying local food, we love cooking. Of course we would love a cooking class! I swear, in all our years traveling, I’m not sure why we never thought about taking a cooking class before. In retrospect, I feel like we missed out on some amazing experiences - Paella in Barecelona, souffle in France, pasta in Italy, heck, even apple strudle in Germany. I barely finished reading the that post before googling “Cooking class in Budapest.” Much to my chagrin, there were quite a few to choose from!

After looking at a couple websites and reading a few reviews, a cooking class with Marti of Kitchen Pixie sounded just up our alley. She has a number of menu options to choose from, all of which include a starter, a main, and a dessert, as well as private dining options and Kosher-friendly menus. We opted for a class that met first at the Budapest Central Market to purchase ingredients and then headed back to her flat to prepare the meal. Cultures are so closely tied to the foods they eat and they way those foods are grown, purchased, and prepared. To us, markets provide a fascinating (and usually a sensorily stimulating) way to explore a new culture and place. So meeting at the market was perfect! It also gave us the opportunity to replenish our stash of Hungarian paprika - a staple of most Hungarian recipes, and better quality than any I’ve bought in a supermarket back home.

Bundled in jackets and scarves, we met on a delightfully cool, crisp, sunny fall morning in front of the 100 year old market. After making brief introductions, we began to wander. I’m always astounded at the sheer variety of food available at markets - so many different cuts of meat that just simply aren’t availble in my local grocery store, the high quality produce, and local specialty items. It wasn’t long before I felt a nostalgia for the weekly market in Mannheim. As we wandered, stopping at stalls here and there to purchase a few items, Marti began to share some stories with us. She explained that she had grown up on a farm in the country and that her parents still resided there. Many of her recipes are family recipes with some modern adaptations. As we passed by a stall selling chicken (which we stopped at to purchase the chicken we needed), she noted that all parts of a chicken are used - many are consumed, in one way or another, while others are used to prepare broths, still others are used as flavorings. We stopped to sample fried pork fat, which is akin to cracklins or pork rind. At another stall selling cooking implements, she told us that in the more rural parts of Hungary, goulash (which I’m pretty certain is the national soup of Hungary!) is traditionally prepared outdoors, over an open fire.

All the ingredients purchased, we headed to Marti’s car to drive back to her flat. She expertly navigated the narrow side streets, and deftly parallel parked her car in a spot I would have thought far too small. We walked about a block to her building, which is currently being renovated, and climbed two open-air flights of stairs. The construction workers that day were removing old tiles, which meant lots of jack hammering and lots of loud “kreplunks!” as the tiles were deposited into wheelbarrows for removal. Unlocking the door, we stepped into Marti’s cute flat. She and her husband used to live here, the in the heart of the Jewish district, before their son was born. But after he came along, they realized their flat was too small, and there was not nearly enough green space nearby for a growing child. They moved to a new flat, closer to parks and trees, but renovated their old flat to house a bigger kitchen and a dining space, perfect for Marti’s business.

In traditinal Hungarian fashion, we started our culinary journey with a tasting of homemade palinka. Martie explained that many farmers start their day with a shot of the liquor distilled from fruit, similar to schnapps. They believe the fortifying drink gives them strength and gusto for the day’s work ahead. It was good, but strong! Marti then poured us a glass of “Hungarian soda” - for lack of a better term. She prepares her own flavored syrups which she mixes with sparkling water, explaining that during communist times, they did not have easy access to sodas, so they would make their own. The tradition lives on in many parts of the country and the elderberry syrup she makes herself made me thankful it does. Our thirst quenched and our spirits fortified by the, well, spirits, we set to work.

The menu we had chosen included goulash soup, a meat-stuffed crepe Hortobagy-style, and gerbeaud cake. Marti immedietly set Aaron to task chopping onions. I was instructed to cut up the beef for the goulash before starting in on the dough preperation for the cake. We chopped, we diced, we mixed, we poured, we stired, we sifted. As we did so, mouth-watering aromas began to fill the kitchen. The beef for the goulash stewed in a pot waiting for the root vegetables to be added added, the chicken for the crepe filling simmered in another pot. As we cooked, Marti shared even more stories with us. A professional chef herself, she told us of the time she had a group of other professional chefs from all over the world take her cooking class (talk about intimidating!), and a restauranteur from Seattle in her kitchen. She shared stories of her son, of her parents, and of her spritely 90-something year old mother in-law, a Holocaust survivor. By the time the meal was prepared, I felt like I knew her entire family!

Almost like magic (because I struggle deeply with this), the meal came together at the same time. The goulash was complete, the crepes and filling were ready, and the cake just coming out of the oven. We sat down to consume the fruits of our labor. The goulash was delicious - hearty and savory, almost a meal of it’s own. As we sat there sipping the soup, Marti revealed that soups are a staple in Hungarian meals. They eat soup every day; cold soups similar to a gazpacho in the summer, heartier soups like goulash in the colder months. Once we finished our soups, we tucked into the stuffed pancakes. At the table, Marti demonstrated how to roll them up by placing a serving of the chicken on the pancake and rolling it like a burrito. She then ladled some sauce onto a plate and placed the stuffed pancake - which very much resembeled a burrito - on the sauce, with a dollop of sour cream on the side. Oh. My. Gosh. So delicious! I wish I could describe it, but words are failing me although, my mouth is watering in memory.

Our bellys getting full, we still had dessert! The gerbeaud cake is a layered cake. It has a layer of pastry, then a thin spread of preserves (we used homemade apricot preseves, courtesy of Marti’s mother in ours), then a layer of walnuts. The layers are repeated many more times. After it is baked, it is topped with a chocolate ganache. It’s supposed to be chilled for a while, prefereably overnight, before being served. But we did not have the luxury of time to do so. Marti carefully cut the cake, taking care to wipe her knife in between each cut to ensure a clean slice, and placed the pieces onto a plate for us to help ourselves to.

Even though we prepared foods in much smaller quantities than I would at home, we actually had quite a bit of leftover food. Portioning and preparing food for 2-3 people is not always easy. Had we had another day planned in Budapest, I would have asked to take some of the leftovers - at least the cake - with us. But, as it was, we had a rediculously early flight out the next morning making leftovers impractical (although, I did debate the logistics that would have been needed to take the cake with me on the flight and whether or not I would be allowed back into the US with it….)

Our appetites satisfied, it was time to say good bye to Marti. We thanked her for the warm hospitality and stories, vowing that when we revisit Budapest, we will take another one of her classes. Maybe even with our girls since Evelyn is starting to show a strong interest in cooking with us! I’m not sure why it took me so long to consider cooking classes as something to do when traveling, but I’m glad I discovered it now. I can honestly say, if it’s feasible to do so, we will be looking into cooking lessons every time we travel from now on.

Do It Yourself

Check out Marti’s website, Kitchen Pixie, to book a lesson. Communication with Marti through through her Facebook page was a breeze. We chose the Cooking Class with Market Tour, Menu C. Cost was 95 euro/person and was totally worth every penny!