Thinking about my growing up Hungarian, I have specific food memories, which I know every single culture on the planet has…the comfort food of childhood. Noodles, dumplings, and pasta, it keeps us alive, but when it’s made just right, it’s the most sublime, perfect mouthfeel and chew, delicious meal on the planet. The wheat protein, with or without egg, makes a nutritious dish. Coated with a sauce or simple combination of ingredients makes it magical, it’s what memories are made of.
Category: food
Little Andie: Konini street. Fish and Chips or Pasties?
When I had a shilling to spend for food, I chose between pasties or fish and chips. The shops were almost next to each other. One was a bakery that made the pasties, the other a fish and chip shop. They were both across the street from my Nelson Central School. I love fish and…
Teen Andie: In the Flow & Fried Chicken
Fried anything is good. Fried chicken is irresistible. Add the announcement, coupled with plates piled high with three big pieces, a glob of creamy mashed potatoes with a well of gravy in the middle, more dribbling down the sides of the crater into a side of corn. Three plates stacked on my left arm, one in my right, moving within inches past these greedy noses quivering in my wake…
Palacsinta
Two hands are required. One to hold it to your mouth, the other to hold the tail end as you eat your way through it. Usually, the first ones off the pan never make it to the rolling plate, we would just hold the transparent circle of cooked dough and peel pieces from it. The crunchier edges, give way to the softer, springier middle. My brother and I were like little birds, waiting for morsels from the mother bird.
The Right Chicken Soup
Naively, I believed the chicken soup my mother made was the best in the world, and to me it was. It a was perfect balance of chicken, vegetables, and noodles. It was not a regular occurrence either. Whole fresh chickens were very rare and costly at the time. Usually, we had to butcher our own…
Little Andie. Konini street. A rat ate the bread!
The bakery wasn’t all that far away, just all the way down the hill and only a quarter of the way through town. I was quite mature now, (almost 6) so I was sent to fetch our loaf of bread. With this loaf, my mother made my father’s daily work sandwiches, and when it got…
Little Andie. Konini street. Juliska: Prima Ballerina of the kitchen.
The bread is dense and soft, while at the same time, strong enough to support the pile of scrambled eggs, now glistening with drippings, ready to eat. I marvel at how her eggs never get dry, they never get hard, and they stay soft and moist, no matter how long they sit on your plate.
Chicks & Jam 