and Horseradish Cream
In my dreams came the thunder. As I drifted off peacefully the roar jolted me out of my lazy sleep. The smells were earthy. The dust was thick. Little beams of sunlight shown through the chaos allowing me to see what surrounded me.
There I stood, in the middle of a cattle herd. They weren't just ordinary cattle. They were huge with long horns jutting outward and upward, reaching for the sky. Their grey hides blended well with the dust being kicked up on this long ridden trail...and did I mention they were big? So big, in fact, that I needed to find my way out of this thunderous mass of cattle before I was trampled. I never really thought about it before tonight, but one of the last places I wanted to be was in the middle of a moving herd of cattle, especially one of epic proportions....dream or no dream.
And there, the unmistakable sound of horses' hooves. With only a quick glimpse of the rider I mistakenly thought I saw him wearing a cassock, the long robes worn by Catholic Priests, fitted on the upper body and looser as it reached the ground. I somehow freed myself of the herd and stood watching the rider. He was almost as imposing if not more so than the cattle. There was something about his demeanor, his dress, his ride. He wore a cloak of pride and arrogance. I was immediately captivated.
I watched in amazement. The tunic he wore held tight to his upper body allowing him total freedom of movement while the lower garment waved along with the wind showing glimpses of well worn almost army type boots.
His imposing nature commanded respect without saying a word and as the dust played a game of hide and seek I found myself in awe, wanting to see more.
There was chaos and noise in the distance and I heard yelling. I had no idea what was happening. All of the calls and cries were in a foreign language but I sensed something was wrong. I looked over to where the horseman had rode and there, eye level with me was the horse and the rider, both laying on the ground.
I gasped, thinking they had fallen at the hand of whoever was causing all of the chaos. I looked at the rider, scared and ready to run over to see if I could help but with a quick wink and a smile, he and his horse in unison stood up and overtook the aggressor in one fell swoop.
The horse and the rider were one. It was the most amazing feat of equestrian-ism I had ever been witness to. I wondered if perhaps the legend of the Centaurs had anything to do with these men.
The cattle quieted and the dust settled and the riders began to celebrate. They stood, yes stood on their horses as they rode around in circles, play fighting with each other. One man even straddled two horses and he rode furiously across the field, returning with a grin.
A moan came from the edge of the field and one of the weaker of the herd had fallen in the chaos. I couldn't bear to watch. It's how we all eat and where all of our meat comes from but I wasn't used to such an up close view. I remembered reading something about Hungarian Cowboys, Csikós, and eating the weakest of the cattle as they made their was across the lands. It kept them moving, kept the cowboys fed and weeded out the cattle that couldn't make the journey. It was the way of the land.
I watched dinner being gathered, root vegetables, pouches of spices...things going into a pot over the fire. The wood burning, the meat, the spices, the outdoors....it enveloped all of my senses as I watched the men.
They joked and sang and the wine came out.
The drinking began and singing filled the air.
There was a wrestling match and a few 'play fights' ensued..... then out came more wine.
Music was played and those left awake and able to stand danced until they could dance no more.
The night (and the wine) had slowly led everyone to sleep and as the last few bones were thrown playfully at each other, snores over took any other sounds.
I snuck over to try the stew. There was a little left and I anxiously took a bite.
It was sweet and smoky, meaty and thick and absolutely perfect.
I knew my time here wasn't going to last and as I stared at my cowboy friends, snoring dreamily into the night air, I knew they would awake the next day and with their horses and cattle move on the next spot...to conquer, pillage, or sell....whatever these men did, they would do it with every fiber of their being. They knew how to live, really live and not just exist. There's a difference.
Whatever they did and however they did it, they did it with everything they had. They didn't have a choice and knew no other way.
It is in this soup and stew that lives the lives and the zest and furor of those feared, proud and hell-raising cattleman.
Their feats and their equestrian skills are still mentioned today. They were known all over Europe and were at one time just as fierce and re known as the Vikings.
They live now through those who learn and keep them alive in their heart and in their cooking (and perhaps with their wine, as my grandfather did.)
Through them we can learn what it is to live as opposed to exist and to savor every moment, or bite as the case may be.
They do not have to exist just in our dreams but in how we live our lives.
All this in a bowl of stew?
It's something I dream about.
There is an amazing array of Gulyas (Hungarian spelling) recipes out there. Every one is slightly different. Some use lard (which is more traditional) instead of bacon fat. Some use potatoes, others don't. Same with tomatoes.
It's funny in that for every way one recipes states, there's another recipe stating the exact opposite. The main ingredient all of them share is Hungarian Paprika. Without it, it wouldn't be guylas.
Every Hungarian swears by their version. This is mine.
Hungarian Goulash
The fresher your ingredients, the better your goulash will taste. Most importantly, check your paprika. It is often used as a garnish instead of an ingredient so it tends to sit on a shelf for a while. You won't get the full effect of the dish by using old paprika. Make sure it's fresh.
The Ingredients
4 lb Chuck Roast
Salt/Pepper
Olive Oil
1 lb Bacon
1 Large Onion, chopped
2 tbsp. Hungarian Sweet Paprika
1 Red Pepper
1 Green Pepper
2 Cloves Garlic
3-4 Roma Tomatoes, chopped
2 Parsnips, peeled and sliced
2 Carrots, medium, peeled and sliced
2 or 3 Yukon Golds, chopped into bite sized pieces
1 cup Hearty Red Wine, such as Bikaver (Hungarian red wine)
1 1/2 cup Chicken Stock
1 1/2 cup Beef Stock
1 tsp Caraway Seeds
1 tsp Marjoram (optional)
1 tsp Hungarian Sweet Paprika
2 Bay Leaves
2 tbsp. Flour
1/4 cup Fresh Parsley, chopped
Slice the roast into very thick steaks, 1 1/2 - 2".
Brush with a little olive oil and season liberally with salt and pepper.
Meanwhile in a dutch oven (medium heat), cook the bacon.
Traditionally, goulash is cooked over an open fire.
Pictured here, it's being cooked on the grill.
Cook the onion in the warm bacon grease.
Add the paprika. Stir being very careful not to burn.
Oil accentuates and 'wakes up' the flavor of sweet paprika but paprika burns very easily and once burned, the entire dish will have an acrid flavor.
Add the wine and let it cook down by half.
Add the stocks, caraway, marjoram and bay leaves.
When adding the stocks, you have to 'eye it'. You are adding just enough to almost cover the ingredients.
Let simmer about 30 minutes.
Let cook another 45 minutes to an hour, until the vegetables are tender.
In a small bowl, mix 3 tbsp. flour with your goulash broth and stir.
Horseradish Sour Cream
1 cup sour cream
4 Tbsp Freshly Grated Horseradish Root (to taste)
2 Tbsp White Wine Vinegar
1/2 tsp Kosher Salt
You will have to go by taste.
One more thing. Grating horseradish root is almost like dicing an onion. It makes you tear up just a bit. There's nothing like freshly grated horseradish and if everything else in your dish is fresh, why not? I promise you, it will be good.
Grate as much as you need....3-4-5 tablespoons.
You'' have to play it by taste.
Mix all ingredients together and make any adjustments.
Serve the goulash alone with some warm crusty bread, over egg noodles, with dumplings....
Add a nice dollop od your horseradish sour cream.
And of course, don't forget your bottle of wine.
The drinking of wine, dancing and singing, I'll leave that to your own discretion.
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