Oh, Budapest, you whimsical, eerie wonderland. Arriving in Budapest is like stumbling through a rabbit hole and stepping out into a confusing alternate dimension. An electric trance of haunted bliss- if you will. Days in Budapest are meant to dive into the other worldly things. It would be a sin not to spend the day floating through ancient bath houses in hot springs and thermal steam. Granted, you may be floating next to rather large Greek men in a speedos… but that’s just the weirdness that is Budapest.
The Perfect Hungarian Meal
While in Hungary, head down your nearest alley, to the darkest corner, while following the scent of smoking paprika. When you see candlelight glowing through eerie restaurant windows, you’ll know you’ve found the perfect Hungarian restaurant to enjoy a traditional Goulash. If you were back in the 9th century, a herdsman would have your fire roaring with a cauldron of goulash bubbling over the flames, while the willow trees blow in the distance. But this will do… since we can’t technically time travel.
History of Goulash
In the midst of a rising revolution, there is one thing that always remained the same in Hungary… the aroma of paprika simmering all day in a goulash stew filled the streets. During wartime, there was an innate calling to preserve Hungary identity that infected the souls of artists. Gypsies lay playing their crying violins in the streets. Photographers hid in the shadows, risking their lives to capture a tangible glimpse of the regime tanks. The writers gathered in cafes over bowls of goulash, reminding the people of times not yet written.
When I eat goulash, I’m not just eating a soup. I’m eating a piece of bubbling history. I’m consuming the meal of artists.
