TELL US ABOUT TYPICAL
HUNGARIAN FARE
Hungarian dishes tend to
include meat and dough. We
do dough in every form, from
baked to fried to boiled.
We have lots of indigenous
livestock, including grey
cattle and mangalica pigs.
And we use a lot of paprika,
which was introduced by the
Turks when they ruled. When
I travel, I always take my
Hungarian paprika with me.
AND DRINKS?
I could spend hours showing
you the different kinds
of alcohol we have! There
are digestifs, aperitifs and
wines from 22 regions. If you
eat too much, there’s no
better remedy than a shot
of pálinka [fruit brandy] or
Unicum [herbal liqueur].
HOW HAS THE FOOD
SCENE CHANGED IN
RECENT YEARS?
There are fewer and fewer
csárda — restaurants serving
traditional food. That’s a
shame. But most restaurants
still include classic dishes
like goose liver on their
menus, and have Hungarian
wines from local wineries.
Although it’s sad that some
old restaurants closed during
the pandemic, it’s offered
opportunities for young
restaurateurs with new ideas.
That’s exciting.
Nelli Hajba is a Budapest
local and founder of
Nellicious Travels, leading
food-related tours and
culinary experiences in the
city.nellicioustravels.com
Q&A with culinary
tour guide Nelli Hajba
fi nd other jobs. Now the world is opening up
again, the number one problem is the lack of
trained staff. On some days, even Gerbeaud
[Budapest’s most prestigious cafe] has had to
leave customers queuing outside because it
didn’t have enough people to serve them. Can
you imagine? At Gerbeaud?”
But for all the challenges, Andrea is
upbeat. Rákóczi Square is in the Eighth
District, for many years a tatty, overlooked
portion of the city that lay in the shadow of
the more fashionable Jewish District to the
north. Given how neglected it became, it’s
remarkable to think the area was once the
most desirable of neighbourhoods. “It’s called
the Palace Quarter,” Andrea tells me, as we
walk along Brody Sándor Street. “Each of
these residences has a history. Many famous
people lived in them — aristocrats, composers,
artists, politicians...” As did, it seems, a less-
glamorous resident, with rougher hands and
more dirt beneath his fi ngernails. “A beloved
local chimney sweep once lived here,” says
Andrea, as we stop outside a house with
mustard walls. “There used to be a bust of him
above the door.”
Now the Palace Quarter is enjoying a
revival. Its fl aking facades are getting fresh
licks of pastel-coloured paint and plaques
recording their histories. We pass a powder-
blue house that was owned in the early
19th century by leading playwright József
Katona, who wrote the historical tragedy
Bánk Bán, a staple of Budapest’s theatres.
We pop into a tiny pharmacy that’s been here
since 19 23, complete with folksy art-nouveau
oak cabinets and drawers. “We still have
the original weighing scales, too,” says the
pharmacist, showing me the handsome,
marble-bottomed contraption on the counter.
The Palace Quarter’s change of fortune isn’t
restricted to architecture. It’s also becoming
a popular place for food, drink and culture.
We turn left down Szentkirályi Street and
follow it to Mikszáth Kálmán Square, where
Andrea pulls me into a bar on the corner called
Tilos A Tilos (Forbidden is Forbidden). It has
stripped brick walls and a barman who nods
at me while polishing glasses with a cloth; all
reminiscent of a scene from a black-and-white
fi lm. “During communism, this was where
everyone who was an enemy of the system
came,” Andrea reveals. “Frank Zappa played
here in 1 991.” Today it’s trendy, just like the
bar next door that hosts live music and literary
readings, and the restaurants along Krúdy
Street with menus on boards advertising good-
value soups and stuff ed cabbage.
A statue of the portly author Gyula Krúdy
gazes down over the street that takes his name.
“Krúdy was always writing about food,” says
Andrea. “I can’t read his novels without feeling
hungry.” She stares at the statue wistfully for
a moment before checking her watch with a
start. “Oh, that reminds me, it’s lunchtime
— I must go!” And, with a warm farewell, she
hurries off home with her bag of lentils and her
high hopes for better times ahead.
Clockwise from top left: Vak Varjú
restaurant in the Jewish Quarter — its
name translates as ‘blind crow’, after
the traditional oven-baked flatbread
of the same name; the Great Market
Hall, the first and biggest of the city’s
indoor markets; inside one of Falk
Miksa Street’s antique stalls; the Great
Market Hall’s neogothic interior
128 NATIONALGEOGRAPHIC.CO.UK/TRAVEL
BUDAPEST
