You Want to Add What to the Chicken Paprikash?

Foodgoat's sous chef, the delicious bottle of beer, has made many excellent cooking suggestions to Foodgoat in the past. He has recommended more hot sauce, the adding of a new spice, the use of more beer. Once in a while, it doesn't work (usually, too many hot peppers), but overall, his suggestions have been good ones.

But this time, the suggestion was so out there, Foodgoat wasn't sure if he should listen or not.

The dish was chicken paprikash, which Foodgoat has made so many times he could make it in his sleep. Having perfected the recipe, he has taken lately to playing around with it, adding new ingredients and twists. But was this idea of new ingredient too weird for an old standby?

What did that bottle of beer suggest that Foodgoat add to chicken paprikash? Chocolate.

The extreme dark chocolate chips that we used for sourdough pancakes.

He added a handful, and wouldn't ya know it, it actually tasted wonderful. Because we used dark chocolate, it actually gave it an earthiness rather than a sweetness that didn't seem chocolate-y at all. Adding even more chocolate the next day turned the chicken paprikash into something akin to chicken mole, which was further afield, but still delicious.

Traditional? No. Tasty? Yes.

sauerkraut, improved

This week's adventurous purchase at the West Side Market was fried sauerkraut balls from Rita's, the Hungarian deli. Foodgoat loves sauerkraut. I find it tolerable at best. But I like the sauerkraut balls. Why? Because anything that's breaded and deep-fried tastes good.

I'm Tokay, You're Tokay

I'm Tokay, You're Tokay
A true geek, in order to survive, must consume a certain number of trilogies throughout his or her life.

Some return, over and over again, to the same trilogy, like Lord of the Rings or Star Wars, but others may seek out new trilogies and new fantastic sci-fi/fantansy stories. A few years ago, the trilogy that sustained me for several months was Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials, which begins with The Golden Compass, continues with The Subtle Knife, and ends with The Amber Spyglass. It is ostensibly a children's series, but it's darker and far more existential than anything I read under the age of 12 (except for Ray Bradbury's The Veldt, which scared the bejesus out of me). While the adventure tale of an alternate universe can't quite displace Tolkien (and activates the Annoyed Vein in Foodgoat's forehead that usually comes out when talking about George Lucas), I confess, I enoyed it.

But this isn't a book blog. However, the very first chapter, "The Decanter of Tokay," did spark a food adventure. In it, we are introduced not only to the charming protagonist Lyra Belaqua, but also to the mysterious Lord Asriel, who is partial to a particular wine: Tokay.

Tokay, I learn, is a Hungarian wine. In fact, it is known as one of the world's best sweet white wines, and comes from the area around the town of Tokay (known as Tokaj in Hungarian), located in the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains in northeastern Hungary. Warm summers combine with the humidity from the streams and rivers can create an environment where a particular mold called "noble rot" ( or botrytis cinerea, which Hungarians call aszú) develops. This rare condition is what enables Tokaj to produce the legendary late-harvest dessert wines, sweetened within the grape before it is picked.

Now, what I knew from before, and what was confirmed at Wine 101, is that I love sweet wines. So what with Lord Asriel and the Master going on and on about how lovely the Tokay was, even in their alternate universe, I looked for it.

Many months later, we enjoyed a bottle of Tokay with, appropriately enough, traditional Hungarian dishes stuffed cabbage (which, oddly, has no cabbage in it) and cream of spinach (which has the non-traditional, but extremely tasty, addition of feta cheese). The recipes for those excellent things will have to come another time, as Foodgoat is out band-practicing. But it all tasted quite nice together.

Having just attended a wine class, I was able to decipher the wine label a little better: The vintage was 1996, the region was Tokaji, the grape variety was Furmint, the vineyard Oremus (the site of the first Tokay to be made in 1650).

And the taste? As hoped, quite sweet and fruity. Light and dessert-y. Which is definitely my style.

It's cold in Cleveland. Time to bring out one of my cold weather dishes - Hungarian goulash!

Back in college, my roommates were blessed with this dish every Wednesday evening. And we never got sick of it. My version is slightly different from the traditional version. It's more stew-like than soup-like: more potatoes! more meat! more everything! (Except water, of course. That would just mean more soup.)


1. Dice one large onion & 1 Hungarian pepper & saute in olive oil with several pinches of caraway seeds. Cook in medium heat for about 10 minutes, until onions are translucent but not brown.

2. As in any traditional Hungarian dish, add paprika! As much or as sweet or as hot paprika as you wish.


3. Add some water & cook at medium high for 15 minutes.


4. Through a wire mesh strainer pour off onion mixture into a large pressure cooker.
5. You want to get all the juices out of the onion mixture, so add water through the mesh strainer onto the skillet and press the juices out with a wooden spoon, or your hands, several times. Add the juices to the pressure cooker too. The point is you're adding liquid volume and getting all the flavors out of the onion/peppers, because now you're going to discard onion/peppers.

6. Add about 1.5 to 2.5 pounds of beef. I like to use London broil & cut it into small cubes. Or you could buy the pre-cut stew meat.

7. Add salt & pepper to the pressure cooker. Turn on the heat, close the lid, and let the pressure do the work! I cook with pressure for about 45 minutes.

8. The next phase is cooked like a traditional soup. Remove the lid from the pressure cooker and add chopped celery, 4-6 peeled & diced potatoes, and a chopped tomato. Cook at a boil for 30 minutes.

9. And now for the least traditional ingredient (this is ladygoat's influence): add half an ounce of patis (Shhh! Don't tell Mom! Let alone Grandma!).


10. This is a good spot for a taste test: Do you need to add more salt? Pepper?

11. After the 30 minute boil is up, I make egg-drop noodles. One egg into a mug, add flour and mix until gooey. Using a hot spoon, scoop into boiling soup. Cook for 10 more minutes and serve!


I like this dish with bread and sour cream.


I made this dish for my old high school buddy/college roommate/video-game chum/hell-on-wheels friend Igor, who is presently recuperating from tonsillectomy. [Side note: each one of his tonsils was as big as a fist! :( ] Fortunately, he's recovering quite well.

Dumplicious!
Some desserts are so good that it seems a shame to wait until the end of the meal to eat them. At least, that's how it is with plum dumplings. It's a traditional Hungarian dessert but it's so tasty my family always has it as the main course.

Plum dumplings follow my favorite rule of food: you can't tell what's in the middle of it until you open it up.

This is pretty difficult as recipes go, but it gets easier with practice. On the plus side, everyone will have a hard time turning down second (and third) helpings of plum dumplings.


PLUM DUMPLINGS

The night before ...
1. Boil about four Yukon Gold potatoes in a pressure cooker with the skin on for 40 minutes or so.
2. Run them under cold water, peel them and put them in a bowl. Mash them up with your hands or a ricer.
3. Stick them in the fridge until the next day. (I like to do an extra-big batch of potatoes in advance, using the extra to make gnocchi the same week.)

The day of ...
4. The next day (or once cooled), smash the potatoes to loosen them up. Add an egg and enough flour to give it a sticky but heavy consistency. (For gnocchi, you add as little flour as possible but here you add much, much more.)
5. Flour a big cutting board, make balls of dough, flour them and roll them out. Cut out squares, approximately 3 x 3".

Meanwhile ...
6. Start boiling a large pot of water.
7. Cut prune/Italian plums (the small ones) in half, remove the pits, and cover them in melted butter and a cinnamon sugar mixture.
8. In a skillet, toast a lot of bread crumbs in 2 T of butter on low. This is best with electric skillet, if you have one.


Putting it together ...
9. Put half a plum in the middle of the dough square. Fold the dough up, roll it in your hand so the plum is in the middle, and use hot water & a finger seal any holes in the dough.
10. Drop the dumpling into boiling water until it floats for around 5 minutes.
11. Take out the dumpling and roll it around in the bread crumbs until coated. Keep it there until you've finished them all.

Serve ...
with (generous amounts of) melted butter, cinnamon sugar, and cottage cheese, like my mother does. My grandmother serves them with olive oil & sour cream, but I like my mother's way best.

The strangest recipe

... in The Art of Hungarian Cooking isn't the pig-neck soup, but the cold raspberry soup:

"Wash, clean, and crush [1 pound] fresh raspberries. Cover with [1/2 cup] sugar and let stand for several hours. Press through strainer. Chill. Stir before serving. Sprinkle Rice Krispies or popcorn over each serving to add contrast to soup."

I haven't tried this. It's that last step that throws me.

Chicken Paprikash

Let's start things off right: chicken paprikash. If you can't cook chicken paprikash, you can't cook Hungarian. Everyone makes this dish a bit different. After sampling many different people's versions, I've come to the conclusion ...mine is the best. By the way, if you have a recipe with garlic in it, it isn't Hungarian. Follow these simple steps, and you too can wow your taste buds. I figured I'd start off with the greatest/simplest one first. If you can't follow this recipe don't even attempt to try any future recipes. Ready? Go!

Step 1: In your favorite cast iron dish, saute 1 diced medium onion and 1 Hungarian pepper in a thin coat of olive oil. (Note: I've noticed that Hungarian peppers are not available throughout this great country of ours. In California, use an Anaheim. In Florida, use a banana pepper. In Denver they call them waxed yellows. But if available choose the Hungarian above all other choices) (More about peppers: you can change the heat content of the dish by removing the seeds/veings inside the pepper. I like a kick: I take the seeds out and keep the veins, chopped up.)

Step 2: As my mother said, you can never add too much paprika. I've taken this message to the extreme. Once the onions are golden brown, add up to a fourth of a cup of Hungarian paprika and stir. I like to add a couple cups of water.

Step 3: This is where I differ from most traditional recipes. I hate bones. I hate looking at them, I hate seeing them, and more than anything else, I hate crunching down on a piece of bone while I'm enjoying my meal. So, I add 4 cubed boneless skinless chicken breasts. Next add some salt and pepper. Add 2 cubed ripe tomatoes and let the whole thing cook on medium high for 30-50 minutes. (Side note: I like to add extra water and extend the cooking time, allowing the moisture to bring in the flavors inside the chicken. REDUCE, REDUCE, REDUCE.) During this reduction, make dumplings. More on this later.

Step 4: Once the liquid reaches a stew-like consistency, you're ready to eat. Just before serving, add 3 heaping, heaping, heaping spoonfuls of sour cream and get ready for the simplest & most heavenly delight on this planet. Serve with the dumplings.

How to make the dumplings
Making dumplings is an art form. Whatever you do, don't just follow this recipe to the letter. If you do, you will surely fail. The proportion of water to flour depends on external condition that is beyond my control and will change every time. But here's my best shot.

In a large mixing bowl add 2 eggs. This never changes.
Add 2 teaspoons of salt. Mix well.
Add ABOUT a cup and a half of hot water.
Mix together.
Now the tricky part. Add enough flour so it's gooey and sticks to your wooden spoon, but nowhere close to being pasta-ish. So, start by adding about 2 cups of flour and mix; incorporate well - work those forearms! Keep on adding flour until your spoon can retain the dough but isn't stringy. But don't worry - if you go too far, add more hot water.
Let dough sit while chicken paprikash is cooking. If this is your first time making dumplings, err more towards more flour than not. Granted your dumplings will be heavier but that's better than them falling apart. I know I'm making this sound like rocket science but it really isn't that hard.
Get a big pot of boiling water. Spoon in small spoonfuls of dough. After adding the last spoonful, cook for about 3 minutes more.
Strain. Add some oil and butter, and serve. :)