Meal #44 - Hungary

Once one of the pre-eminent powers of Europe, having virtually run the joint in a dynamic duo with Austria, Hungary is now resigned to being a relatively obscure travel destination and the frequent butt of puns on its name. It also has the dubious distinction of having been named Europe’s gloomiest country. There is even a superstition that the entire nation is languishing under a thousand-year curse. Hopefully these rumours are nothing to do with the food…

The Little Hungarian Restaurant
708 Glenhuntly Road
Caulfield South

Eastern and central European cuisine is not exactly thick on the ground, even in multicultural Melbourne. Once again, our quest took us to Caulfield, in the inner south-east. While Hungarian cuisine as a whole may be hard to find, this little restaurant at least wasn’t, proudly displaying the Magyar colours on its shopfront. Clearly, when designing and naming the restaurant, the owners wanted to leave no ambiguity about what sort of cuisine they intended to serve.

The dining room was, as promised, little and was packed with a vibrant Saturday-night crowd. We could barely squeeze in our own posse of nine, this week comprising Paul, Deb, Nick, Sai, Rami, Caroline, Gene and two new culinary travellers, Priyanthi and Rick, recently returned from a round the world trip of their own. (An actual one involving actual planes and passports and stuff like that - clearly they didn’t know that most major world destinations can be more cheaply and easily experienced through the Melbourne restaurant scene).

The menu, promising “home style cooking” was also comparatively small. Nonetheless, we were pleased to see a decent range of Hungarian specialties in addition to the schnitzels and other more generic dishes, like Veal Cordon Bleu and the long-way-from-home Chicken Mexicana. Being the gastronomic adventurers we are, we ordered almost exclusively from the Hungarian specialty list.

The meal:

Having seen the size of the dishes being brought out to other table, most of us opted for a main course only, with no entrée, although one particularly ravenous diner had a soup. This was a warming chicken broth with slices of carrot and matzo balls and was almost large enough to be a meal in itself.

The trend for large servings continued with the mains. Hearty seemed to be the name of the game here. As one diner described it, they were “real man’s meals.” First, the Stew. No Hungarian meal would be complete without the country’s signature dish, goulash. This came in two varieties, the standard beef version and a pork variant that came with sauerkraut. Both of these were satisfying meals, with tender meat and rich paprika-based sauce.

It only got heartier and manlier from there. The stuffed capsicums were gigantic and came packed with meat (what else?) and drowned in a tomato-based sauce, which was more sweet than spicy. Then there were the cabbage rolls, consisting of a substantial stuffing of veal and rice wrapped in cabbage than slathered with paprika and pepper-corn sauce. Like most dishes, this was served with a generous side of buttery fried potatoes.

Chicken liver featured quite prominently on the menu. We tried the resztelt csirkemaj (chicken liver onions). This is exactly what it sounds like: chicken liver mixed through with onions. A simple dish, not as textured as the Ashkenazi chopped liver we had a few weeks go, but still quite tasty. Imagine a pate, only manlier.

We didn’t think it could get any heartier but it could. The crème de la crème was a huge Wiener Schnitzel served with a fried egg on top. Meals just don’t put more hair on your chest than that. Unfortunately the egg had cooked through, when we suspected the intention was for it be runny and goo all over the schnitzel.

With all this heartiness going on, it’s no surprise that there weren’t too many vegetarian options. Other than the salads, there was only one vegetarian dish on offer – rantott gomba – or crumbed mushrooms. These were mushrooms covered in crumbs and deep fried. They came with a squirty packet of tartare sauce. As vegetarian meals go, they were one step away from writing EAT MEAT YOU NANCY on the plate in tomato sauce. Definitely the low-light of the meal.

Dessert luckily saw a return to form, provided you liked crepes. Crepes were just about the only option, though you could get them with a wide range of fillings, from lemon and sugar or strawberries to plum jam, walnuts or cottage cheese. We had them with csokis (ie chocolate sauce). Just plain chocolate might have been a bit girly, so the sauce came with a heavy lacing of brandy. Rah! Grr! Feel our biceps.

The verdict:

Take or leave this place for what it is. The restaurant promises home-style cooking and it delivers exactly that. The meals are straight-forward, with sauces that ride on one or two strong flavours, and served in copious portions. It wasn’t hard to see why it drew a crowd, although gourmets looking for a sophisticated interplay of flavours might find the dishes too basic.

The lack of vegetarian options, while authentically Eastern European according to those of the group who have been there, was also disappointing. The specials board did promise a mushroom soup on Wednesdays but we can’t guarantee it won’t have bacon or veal or something in it. It’s that kind of place. As it was, the single vegetarian main, which was essentially a glorified entrée, felt like a token nod.

Within the scope of its market, though, the Little Hungarian does do a decent job. The meals were on the whole quite satisfying and you certainly couldn’t fault them for generosity or authenticity. One thing that didn’t smack of Eastern Europe though was the prices, with mains nudging the $20 mark. Oh, for genuine Eastern European exchange rates! Maybe there’s something to be said for the plane and passport type of travel after all…