Thanksgiving 2012

Cancelled.

phew.

instead:  mama drinking mulled wine, then pinot noir at local cafe.  tata putting kids to bed.  mama blogging and attending to email correspondence.  eavesdropping on an ESL discussion between two middle-aged psychologists on a date. they are jotting notes on a shared napkin.  He is German, ya.

Pink Martini is playing on the radio.

grandma made kolbasz (sausage) and mashed potatoes for dinner.

thanks indeed.  i'll take it.

Theater Project

Hello, All!

Happy Thanksgiving!

We rehearsed today and decided to change our schedule.  Please give us your feedback about the following dates:

Tuesday, Nov. 27, 5 - 7 pm, at Ulysses Language School.  Characters needed:  Alajos, Franny, and Rozi.

Tuesday, Dec. 4, 5 - 7 pm, at Janet's.  All characters needed

Monday, Dec. 10, 5 - 7 pm, at Janet's.  All characters needed.  ****This date is changed to Monday because Aniko is not able to come on that Tuesday.  We could do it Monday with her OR meet on Tuesday without her.

Tuesday, Dec. 18, 5 - 7, at Janet's. All Characters needed.

Saturday, Dec. 22, 7 pm  THE SHOW!


thanks,

janet

To Hear a Blind Man

registered somewhere alongside cars, trams, and the sounds of Hungarian:  click, click, click, click.  I move to the curb before I fully realize that this is the sound of a blind person making his own way down the city street. this I love.

a toddler's mood escalating toward a tantrum is redirected toward joy upon the discovery a young man on a small white bicycle doing spins and jumps in the square.

watching students flow out of a university building.  not a primary colored parka or a pair of sneakers to be seen.  

having grandma put the kids to bed while we walk ten minutes to the theater.

the new Belgian restaurant that opened on our block.

roasted chestnuts from street vendors.

the old women selling flowers.  the bent-in-half posture, her headscarf.  the way she grasps in both hands a bouquet of flowers freshly cut from her own garden.  when you buy a bunch, she slowly wraps the wet stems in newspaper.  she is unfailingly polite.  she is old.  her flowers are fresh and fragrant.  of course I buy two bunches, one for each child to carry home to grandma.  

the Roma women lofting brassieres into the air at the metro entrance.  imploring you with the promise of a good price.

Christmas markets and mulled wine.

the automatic and effusively generous offer of help when boarding a tram with a stroller and two toddlers.

no car.  only public transportation.  

walking everywhere.

pacing yourself with the crowd.

choosing to stand on the right or walk on the left down the escalator to the metro train.

being deeply immersed in a novel on my iPhone while seated on a tram and at the same time scanning the doorway at each stop to see if my seat can be offered up to a commuter who needs it.

not multi-tasking so much as living-connected.

Duck Feet

Iza, where are your dirty clothes?

in the Hancock.

Where?  Oh, you mean the hamper.  

Today:

The kids dress themselves.  Leo eats two bowls of oatmeal drizzled with honey and adorned with a smiley face made of raisins.  Iza eats one bowl.  

Then down three flights of stairs.  Leo descends the entire way bumping on his bottom.  

Through the park. Down into the metro.  

Three stops, including going under the Danube.

A stop at the new "Food Fusion" shop where the kids have discovered they can get a little cup of milk. Leo, who is happy to delay going to nursery school, suddenly develops an insistent need for a bit of milk from this shop.  I also buy sweet potatoes, an unusual food here.  I buy the sweet potatoes because the young man who runs the shop does not have a way to charge me for the little milks.  I have tried to pay him, to offer it as a tip at the coffee bar.  Nope.  So now we have sweet potatoes.

Up to the ovoda (nursery school.)

Leo proudly shows his new winter shoes to one of the ovi teachers.  She looks at me and tells me that it is unhealthy for his feet to wear his shoes inversely and that they must be changed.  I say nothing and I do not change them.  Because here is the deal:  The kid is having tantrums.  He obviously is not happy with all the changes that have been foisted on him--change of country, new home here in Budapest, going to nursery school, speaking in Hungarian.  If the little guy wants to wear his shoes inversely, then that is cool by me.  Of course I explained to him that morning how the velcro should be fastened such that the flower design in on the outside of the foot for all to see.  But he disagreed.  Yes, he chose the same dark purple boots with a floral motif as his sister.  The boy knows what he wants.  And he wants to fasten them inversely right now.  Fine by me.  Let's just say, this particular teacher is doing her job by laying down the rules.  But my job as a parent is to respond to my child first.  My kid needs to feel like he has some control over his life.  Let him wear his shoes as he wills.  

It is stressful to lack the language skills to explain my point-of-view and parenting philosophies.  I did not appreciate being told her opinion about what is best for my child's feet.  Really?  Did she think I didn't know or didn't care that his shoes were on backward?  And really, universe and podiatrists, is it really unhealthy that my child goes through a phase of wearing his shoes inversely?  Will he walk on  hobbled little stubs because of this laissez-faire parenting style of mine?

Dear ovoda teacher, please read:  UNCONDITIONAL PARENTING by Alfie Kohn.

Kisses (and no tantrum!) and then I retrace my metro route home, stopping at a local cafe to meet the husband.

Green Tea.  Warm tuna sandwich.  

We discuss our upcoming party, our children's future and education, Hungarian bureaucracy, and Boston real estate.  He asks me our wedding anniversary because he needs it for some paperwork.  I don't know.  We finally manage to find it because I remind him that he has scanned all our documents into the Intertubes.  April 21, 2006.

Then I step into a local design store and buy a new espresso maker--the stovetop kind.  I have one. It doesn't work despite all the voodoo I've tried.  Fingers crossed for the new one.

Back up the three flights to our apartment.

Minutes later two other actors arrive so we can rehearse our play.  Of course we take a cake break.  Not your typical Hungarian cake break as Stefan stopped by our local vegan shop and picked up some "reform" cake.  Very healthy stuff.  Not exactly within the parameters of what you are used to when it comes to cake.  Very granola.  

The actors leave.  I eat all the remaining cake.

Then I nag the husband about being late to pick up the kids.  Today is his first occasion to pick them up from nursery school.  

My mother-in-law is still on Skype.  So I step out and buy a few items from a local Hungarian designer's boutique.  I return. Grandma is till on Skype.  

I make tea.

Now I blog while I wait for the family to come home.

Tantrums:     0

Number of trips up/down three flights:     4

Cups of tea:     4

cups of coffee:     2

Days left until our performance:  16

Tantrum

Today my son had three full-blown tantrums.  If you think a tantrum is a trifle. You are dead wrong.

Motherhood didn't "change" me at all.  I didn't become someone different.  In fact I become a radical version of myself.  Motherhood cracked me open and let loose the Pandora's box of my collective self comprised of my history up until the moment before I pushed my daughter into the world.  Pandora's box, let me specify, is used here as in something that seems like merely a natural rite of passage--woman becomes mother--and yet has far-reaching consequences.  It turns you inside out.  It turns you upside down.  It doesn't change you at all.  It reveals who you were all along.  Needless to say, this is not something anyone can possibly believe if they read it in a book.  Nor can they believe it even when told by a very close girlfriend who has become a mom before them.  It cannot be learned.  It has to happen when your tiny baby cannot smile at you or cuddle you.  She cannot hold you, but you cannot hold her enough.  Your arms go numb and still you hold her.  Your entire being is aware at all times of her.  You know that she is your best self and yet you have no way of explaining what that means in actual spoken language.  So you sing lullabies.  Off-key and without stop.

It used to take years off my life when my babies cried.  And when I say cry, please know that they can scream in what seems like bloody terror.  I felt my blood chemistry lose vital strength.  I could feel my skin tighten around my glazed eyes and break into lines.  It was an out-of-body suffering.  It was terrible.  And then your hormones stabilize, somewhat.  You begin to understand that the little one is vital and resilient.   You get more than four hours of sleep in a row.  Sleep, that is a whole thing.

Now when my son throws a tantrum at the age of three and a half, the Pandora's box is opened--here used in the sense of letting loose all the dark stuff from within me.  Yes, I know he is riding the storm of his emotions.  I know I am not supposed to take it personally. I know he is not trying to be difficult or hurt me.  But when he gets backed into a tantrum and becomes a raging, weaponized munchkin, I don't want to wait it out. Or hug him.  Or empathize.  I want. the. screaming. to. stop.  I want to dodge the bullet.  Or fire back.

I distinctly remember reading parenting books before I had children that addressed the need to walk away and cool down.  I absolutely remember thinking with total certainty that I would never need to walk away from my darling child.  Ha.

The problem with a toddler throwing a tantrum is that you can't walk away--they will follow you screaming and pulling at you.  It's a logistical nightmare.  Or consider when a tantrum happens while walking on a major city street, in inclement weather, with a slighter older preschooler also along for the ride.  There are serious safety issues at stake.

Recent scientific advice suggests that the best response to a tantrum is to do nothing.  Just wait until you have a tantrum on your hands and see how difficult it is to do nothing, but do it in a way that communicates your loving presence.  I would rather, at times, literally do nothing.  But I hope that is not what they best scientific advice intended.

I've had friends on Facebook mention days when "raging bitch mom" appears and they have to figure out a way to put her back in her cage or medicate her.  Or at least feed her.  This is what I did not know about motherhood, especially parenting a toddler (or two), the raging bitch is inside me too.  And it ain't pretty at times.  But, once again, it is back to the resolve:  wait it out, stay close.  Don't take it personally.

Today the soup had hotdogs in it!

Recently--as in a few days ago--a friend of mine started a blog.  Her first entries are wonderfully honest and revelatory about her current thoughts and feelings.  My blog, however, has long--as in since the beginning--been an exercise in self-constraint. A careful effort exerted to remain veiled.  Not to be too...bloggy.  The effort to be writerly instead of excretorious.

But that is mostly a bullshit endeavor, the whole, Only my mother is reading this.  (By the way, mostly only my mother used to read this and probably doesn't remember the url anymore.)

So, let's catch up.

It is now 2012, right?

Obama was reelected.  Romney was defeated. (What is he writing on his blog tonight?)

I am in Budapest.  I am seated at my desk facing the lighted gas lamps of Karoly Kert.  The husband is in Dubai.  (I am told that Dubai exists, but have trouble really coming to terms with that fact.)  The kids were darlings today, which should be noted as it is not every day that I can say that.

I am surprised by how much I like life in Budapest.

I still adore jasmine pearls after many, many years.  And today I learned that I have been steeping it all wrong.  As per the directions on the package from Teavana, I have steeped one teaspoon at 170 degrees F for three minutes, yielding two infusions.  Today I learned an alternate way to steep: one teaspoon at 170 degrees F for 5 - 10 seconds, yielding 10 - 12 infusions.  Former tea, a light brown color, the later produces an almost white tea which is very fragrant. I resisted the new method and almost refused to try it outright.  But I took the challenge.  I liked it here, and there, and anywhere. (Can still learn new tricks, in other words.) (May be metaphor there for youth and what comes after.)

I am confused about why General Petraeus had to resign because he had an affair.  I don't recommend extra-marital affairs.  But I don't see how his private life and indiscretions should end his career. I mean, shit.  That's hardcore and so, well, Let's all throw stones!  Not that I have been able to stomach reading anything other than the headlines.

This morning a woman got out of car and started down the sidewalk in front of us, us being myself, Iza, and Leo.  I immediately felt pity for her--in rainy weather she was dressed in high-heeled wedge boots, black tights, short black skirt, and short brown jacket.  Really, we had to go and endorse wearing high heels in winter weather?  That was a man's idea.  So, she was teetering and not strutting her stuff.  I pitied her.  Then my almost five-year-old (but still four years old) says, "That is a beautiful lady, mama."
     "What makes you say that?"
     "She has long hair, and tights."
So.
     "I also like ladies with short hair," I fumbled.
Then.
     "You know what makes a person beautiful?  A good attitude and a happy face."
I am sure she didn't buy it for one second.

My kids go to a Hungarian nursery school.  I am a fan.  I especially love that they eat a sit-down lunch with at least two courses.  Lunch always starts with a soup.  And then a second course of either pasta or meat and potatoes.  Sometimes fish, though rarely.  I am sure it is not organic.  Sometimes they report with a near swoon that, Today the soup had hotdogs in it!  There is white bread.  But I overlook these things because I think the lessons learned from a shared table with real cutlery and decorum is essential.  I have been to one of these lunches and it was impressive how the little ones behaved. Then I learned yesterday that the girls are always served first.  Then the boys.  Really?  Is this benign, old-fashioned quaintness, merely?  Or one more ingredient in an insidious pressure cooker of gender discrimination--against girls and boys.  Why can't we just go around in a circle and serve each in his or her turn?  In my humble experience, the Hungarians are very specific and restrictive about gender roles. As a mother of a daughter and son, I find it infuriating.

Please, don't mention the Princess issue.  That is a whole thing.

A Hill of Beans & Weanies in the Crock

The Beans:

1 lb dried organic pinto beans
1/4 tsp. black pepper
2 scant tsp. salt
1 tsp. Grey Poupon Dijon mustard (or similar)
1/2 c. molasses
1 med. whole onion, peeled

Soak beans overnight. Drain and replace water. Gently simmer beans for 15 to 20 minutes. Place onion in crockpot. Drain beans and put on top of onion. Add salt, pepper, mustard and molasses dissolved in 1 1/2 cups of hot water. Add enough hot water to just cover top of beans. Cover and cook on high for 6 to 8 hours. Check and add water about every 3 hours, or when necessary.  (Done in almost 8 hours, 7 1/2.  I never added more water.)


The Weanies:

Applegate brand, "The Great Organic Uncured Beef Hot Dog" (6)  On the package it claims: "no nitrates or nitrites added" and "no antibiotics, added growth hormones or animal by-products" AND
"beef raised on sustainable family farms in a stress-free environment that promotes natural behavior and socialization."

Bring a pot of water to boil.  Add hotdogs.  Simmer.  Slice and add to beans.

Recommended:  One-cup serving, paired with sliced tomatoes.  Perhaps a pan of Boston Brown Bread.

UPDATE!  I omitted the recommended 1/4 cup of brown sugar from the original bean recipe.  However, upon tasting the second day I decided to add maple syrup.  Of course, it was even better this way.

UPDATE!  I used the 1/4 cup brown sugar, tarka beans, and cooked them on the stovetop for this round here in Budapest.  Also I used the immersion blender toward the end to blend just enough beans to make a thick sauce.  Very tasty.  This time I also "forgot" to serve the organic virsli (hot dog) and the kids were fine with it.  Definitely goes well with sliced tomatoes. (April, 2013)

Leo's Three-Year Check Up

Leo:
31.5 pounds, 38 inches

Iza:
45 pounds, 43.5 inches

Getting Real

Theater for the Non-Native Hungarian

Ready to take your Hungarian to the next level? Indulge your inner drama queen? I am organizing a production of Szép Ernó's "Kávécsarnok" on December 1st. The actors will all be non-native Hungarian speakers. This is an experiment in learning and an exercise in fun! Actors/Participants need a basic ability to read/speak Hungarian and a willingness to stand up and speak fluent Hungarian (memorized and practiced!). Wouldn't it be grand to be able to speak complete sentences with grace and (dare I say it) humor? Here are the details: Performance (in my living room) will be Dec. 1. We will meet on Tuesdays, 5 - 7pm , in the month of November to rehearse. We need at least 4 women and 1 man. There are no auditions! Send me an email and I will sign you up! First come, first serve. We ask that actors/participants commit by September 22. Questions? Email me.

I Love My Ideas

Hello, Friends,

I have this crazy idea to form a theater production with non-native Hungarian speakers.  Interested?

Initially I was interested in the use of drama as a pedological tool for students learning a foreign language.  The memorization, use of contextual props and situations, as well as the elocution would all be useful.  Not to mention it is more fun than grammar!  

As time has passed, however, I have also fallen a little bit in love with the idea of how the theater can turn foreigners into Hungarians for the duration of the piece.  To be Hungarian, speaking Hungarian is a requirement, no?  So why not take us foreigners and transform us into Hungarians on stage.  I imagine that an original play can be written in this theme.  I could go on about the wonders of this possibility, but perhaps I will let your own imaginations take hold.  An original piece is quite ambitious.  I was thinking to ask Spiro Gyorgy.  :)  Shall we start on a more modest scale?

For example, I plan to return to Budapest for the month of November (possible staying through December and January as well).  What if we picked a text now and then put together the show in the month of November?  I don't have the details sorted out, of course.  But our living room would have room for a stage.  We could start there.  If we had the text selected and the students/volunteers/actors studied it ahead of time, we could pull off a show with 4 - 6 rehearsals.  

Why?

For the love of learning, theater, fellowship, and Hungarian. I can promise my husband's uncle's homemade palinka as well.  

And by the next year, perhaps we will perform original pieces.  And the following year, we charge entrance fees!  

Anyone game?  Suggestions for a text?  Suggestions for students/actors?  Volunteers to direct?

Numbers

Izabella at Four Years

Height  41.5 inches  83%
Weight  41.25 pounds 87%
BMI 16.9  86%
Blood Pressure 111/88 (Right arm, sitting)

Again, Paprikas

1 onion, diced
1/2 red pepper, diced
1 carrot, grated
1 cup diced tomatoes, drained
1 tablespoon paprika
4 legs, 4 thights (skin removed)
2 teaspoons salt
I tried my mother-in-laws thickener but felt it was not successful.  So I ended up removing the chicken and boiled down the sauce.  I then poured it over the chicken to serve.

This was the most successful iteration yet.  Thighs are definitely juicier than breasts.  Just saying.

Paprikas A Third Time

The third attempt at this recipe was a step backward.  The paprika tasted harsh, a bit bitter.

The only major difference I made was to include an entire can of diced tomatoes, which I did only because I hate to waste half a can of tomatoes.  Perhaps it was too much acidity.  Also my attempts have not thickened properly.  Perhaps I might have to try a roux instead of my mother-in-law's thickener with egg yolk, flour, and milk.  

Also we are in agreement that the paprikas would be better with thighs and breast meat on the bone.  The skinless chicken breasts end up being too tough.  We think that the chicken should melt into the sauce.  So perhaps next time I'll go back to 7 ounces of diced tomatoes and use thighs instead, as well as a roux to thicken it.

1 onion

1/2 large red pepper

1 large carrot

3 large chicken breasts (1.8 pounds)

1 can diced tomatoes (14 ounces, drained of liquid)

1 teaspoon sweet paprika

20 minute simmer

add thickener, strained
1 teaspoon salt

Paprikas Waban Style

I have just completed my second attempt at chicken paprikas and have revised the recipe thus:

1 onion
1/2 large red pepper
1 large carrot
3 large chicken breasts (1.8 pounds)
half a can of diced tomatoes (7 ounces, drained of liquid)
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
20 minute simmer
add thickener, strained
1 teaspoon salt

Stuffed Cabbage, Version Two

Here is the recipe as it evolved after my first attempt on Christmas:

1 head cabbage, leaves steamed off and remainder diced
2 x 25 ounce jars sauerkraut

Filling:
1 large onion
1/3 cup white rice
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
2 pounds ground pork
2 eggs
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
2 teaspoons salt

Sauce:
oil (for roux)
2 teaspoons flour
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
2 6 ounce jars of tomato paste
1 teaspoon sugar
salt to taste if needed
2 bay leaf
2 teaspoons dried majoram leaves

Also contemplate adding sausage or bacon to pot.

In the meantime we discovered that you can buy pickled cabbage leaves at a local Russian grocery market.  Originally my mother-in-law said this recipe was impossible without this ingredient.  Since we found it I thought we had to give a go.

So here is what I am currently brewing:

1 47.6 ounce (2 lbs. 15.6 oz.) jar of Cabbage Leaves---The brand we found is Marco Polo and is a product of Macedonia with the following website on the label:  www.adrianimports.com
3 x 14 oz packages of sauerkraut--the other brand was out of stock and this one is raw, cultured, non-pasteurized. 

Filling:
1 large onion
1/3 cup white rice
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
2 pounds ground pork
1 egg
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
2 teaspoons salt

I also used about 1 1/2 hot Italian pork sausage links from Whole Foods in the pot. I sliced it an dotted it between the cabbage rolls.  I added the bay leaf and the majoram leaves to the pot during the initial 30 minutes of cooking.

Sauce:
oil (for roux)
2 teaspoons flour
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
2 6 ounce jars of tomato paste
1 teaspoon sugar
salt to taste if needed
2 bay leaf
2 teaspoons dried majoram leaves


First taste:  SOUR!  I added two more teaspoons of sugar for a total of three.  I also did not add any more salt to the sauce as I felt that sodium in the cabbage leaves might drastically change things.

I'll let it sit for a while and re-taste......

I ended up adding 2 more teaspoons of sugar for a total of 5.

While the crowd went in for seconds and thirds, I am not satisfied.  I don't like the high-sodium dosage here, not to mention the sugar.  Using fresh cabbage is healthier and also more attractive in presentation.  I think I will go for fresh leaves with sauerkraut, but heavy on the sauerkraut and leave out the shredded fresh cabbage.  Also with the all sauerkraut version the hot Italian sausage links were lost in the sauce and didn't seem to add anything worthwhile.

New Year's Day Menu

French Meat Pie

3 pounds ground pork
1 pound ground beef
2 tsp. salt
3 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. pepper
1 1/2 tsp. cloves
1 tsp. celery salt
1 -3 cups bread crumbs
1 onion

Cook meat and 1 onion in water to cover meat, simmer about 45 minutes to 1 hour.
Set aside to cool.  I prepare the meat the day before.

Skim off grease.  (The original recipe says to use this grease in the pie crusts. I have yet to succeed in this step.  I now buy pastry shells ready-made.)

Add seasonings and bread crumbs.  The recipe calls for 1 cup, but this year I used about 3 and 1/2 cups.  It should be very moist without being liquid.  A quivering mass of meat.

Put 3 1/2 cups of meat inside pastry shell and use a top crust, cutting slits in the top.

Bake at 400 degrees for about 40 minutes or until brown.  Let set about 30 minutes before serving.

This is an insanely huge about of meat and makes enough fillings for at least 3 pies with some remaining.  We only hate half a pie at lunch.  So I froze meat in 3 1/2/ cup amounts to make pies in the next few months.

We eat the pies with mashed potatoes and creamed peas or corn.  This year I also happened to have some roasted parsnips ready to go as well.

We ate around noon.  My almost-four-year-old just wandered into the kitchen as I am typing this and requested some more of "that pie and peas and mashed potatoes please." 

My mother always serves this on New Year's Day.  I'll have to ask her for more history about how it become part of our tradition.  Mom?

Christmas Traditions

This year I am not visiting my parents in Kansas for the holidays.  I have only missed Christmas perhaps two times in my thirty seven years.

We are staying at our home in the effort to establish traditions.  Of course tradition requires that one remembers from one year to the next just exactly or approximately what was done.  So, here is my account of this year's event:


Christmas Eve Eve:
Tata left as I was putting the kids to bed.  He procured the Christmas tree and hid it in the shed behind the garage. 

Christmas Eve:
The kids woke us up by crawling into bed with us at six something.  Tata later took the kids to Cafe Fixe for morning coffee.  Max was peeved because Leo spilled his milk and made a huge mess.  It was too cold to play in the park and so they ended up going to Dani's house to visit and play.  They come home at noon.  Leo had fallen asleep in the car, unusual for him.  Tata manage to carry him upstairs to bed and he slept until three, very unusual for him!

We had kolbasz for lunch with mashed potato and roasted peppers.  After which, Tata went down for his own epic afternoon nap. 

After the naps, we rallied the ranks and got bundled up in snowsuits to protect against the cold.  We walked to the T stop with no clear plan in mind.  We ended up going all the way to Brookline.  After trying several places, we ended up eating dinner at Tamarind Bay, an Indian restaurant.  Rice was amok and kids had to guzzle water after surprise bites of spicy food.  It was a success.  Indian next year too?

Then home on the T, bath, a little Curious George, and sleepy time.

I had a few more gifts to wrap.  I arranged all the decorations and supplies in one place ready for tomorrow.  Red wine was a helpful fixative. Tata was relaxing on the couch with a a mediocre movie.

Christmas Day:
Dawns like any other.  No fanfare.  Business as usual.  We took the kids over to their step-brother's house.  They had celebrated Christmas the day before.  It was our turn to have big brother in place for the festivities.  We have a lovely relationship with our blended family.  So a quick trip to pick up big brother ended up being a few hours lingering around the brunch table.  The kids love playing together and the resident dog is always good for entertainment.

On the way home Leo was falling asleep in the car seat.  So I opted to take the little ones out for a drive and eventually head toward the fire station.  The angels need some time to set up the tree and arrange the gifts.  Our plan was to visit the fire station bearing chocolate chip cookies while the angels (Tata and big brother) worked their magic at the house.

Leo fell asleep.  I wanted him to be awake at the fire station and I needed to give him time to nap.  After not too much thought I took to the highway toward the Dedham Starbucks, which has a drive-through.  I used to frequent the route back in the months when it was the only way to get baby number 2 to nap while entertaining baby number 1 AND acquiring coffee for me.

We arrived to discover that the drive-through was closed due to the holiday but the main counter was open.  So I placed my order by phone and then ran inside.  In the meantime I chatted with my mother and learned that my little nephew had been rushed to the hospital Christmas morning after eating a chocolate that contained peanuts.  He is fine, but that is not a pleasant way to greet Christmas morning for sure.

After learning that the angels had finished their work at home, we dropped by the house (leaving the kids in the car) and picked up Tata and biggest brother.  We headed to the fire station in Newton Center.  If you ever need to pass an hour or so on Christmas, try the fire station. We brought chocolate chip cookies and the friendly crew was happy to show us the trucks and entertain us. 

We returned home about four o'clock.  We came in through the front door to discover that the angels had visited us!  They brought a fully decorated Christmas tree surrounded by toys.  Music, candles, a roaring fire and we were ready to settle into the joy of giving and getting.

Dinner was stuffed cabbage. Dessert was chocolate cake sent by my mother.

The two little ones were very reluctant to head to bath and bed.  How sweet it was to tuck two warm bodies in next two their two new baby dolls and listen for that moment when they gave into the raspy deep breathes of Christmas dreams.

Christmas 2011, Stuffed Cabbage

Not turkey.  Not a soft fillet of white fish.  Not even a ham.

Stuffed cabbage, people.  Stuffed with pork.

This entry chronicles my attempt to cook a traditional Hungarian Christmas dish as an American (Kansan) married to a Hungarian living in the Northeast.  This dish is always better the second day (notice a theme here?) and so I have started on Christmas Eve.  My family celebrates with the arrival of the angels, tree, and festive meal on Christmas afternoon.  Pictures and list of ingredients at end.

I consulted various websites and cookbooks, as well as my mother-in-law about this dish.  Here is how I am making it this Christmas Eve morn:

Remove the outer leaves of a cabbage and rinse well.  Drop the entire head into a large pot of boiling water for about 7 minutes.  Remove the head from the water (so easily said, very awkwardly done).  Then nip (<------technical term) the base of a leaf and peel it away whole from the head.  Continue doing this until the leaves will not come away in one piece.  Then return the entire head to the boiling pot for 2 - 3 minutes. (Leave pot boiling until you finish.)  Remove more leaves, returning the head to the pot as needed.  I returned the cabbage twice to the pot.  I was able to peel about 15 leaves off my cabbage.

Remove the core from the cabbage and discard.  Chop the remaining cabbage and set aside.

Prepare the leaves by paring down each stem so that it is the same thickness as the rest of the leaf.

For the meat filling:

Dice one large onion and add it to a dutch oven pot with a bit of canola oil to soften for 5 minutes or so. Add 1 teaspoon of sweet paprika and 1/2 cup white rice and let cook for about 3 minutes.  Let this mixture cool.

Blend with hands 1 kilo ground pork, two eggs, 1 teaspoon black pepper, 2 teaspoons salt, and rice mixture.

Here is the description from Habeas Brulee.com  I followed about how to stuff the cabbage leaves:

To fill each cabbage leaf, set the leaf on the table rib-side down, so that it naturally curves into a sort of cup waiting to be filled. Roll small handfuls of meat into oblong patties that fit the size of the leaves, and place the filling on the cabbage leaf, near the bottom of the leaf. Fold the sides of the leaf over the filling, and roll the cabbage around the meat, being sure to tuck the bottom end of the rib around the filling to keep it all snugly wrapped.

Now mix the chopped up cabbage with a 25 ounce jar of sauerkraut.  Place a layer of the sauerkraut mixture in pot and then layer your little cabbage packages on top.  Repeat sauerkraut mixture layer and then another layer of stuffed cabbages until you reach the end of your supply.  Place remainder of sauerkraut mixture on top.  Here I began to doubt my amount of sauerkraut (gut feeling.  don't ask.) and so I opened a second jar and added about another cup or two.  Then cover the entire contents with water.  Bring to boil.  Cover and simmer for about 30 minutes.

At this point I followed Habeas Brulee to make the sauce.  She recommends:

A few minutes before your kitchen timer goes off, make a roux by browning the flour in a bit of oil in a separate pan. Stir in the paprika, then remove from heat. Add the sugar, salt, and tomato paste, and mix well. Ladle some of the water out of the cooking cabbage pot and mix in with the paste, just to thin it out. Add the thinned paste back into the pot with the cabbage, and carefully stir it in to dissolve it in the water. My grandmother instructed me to the shake the pot to get the paste mixed in, but my pot was too full for me to risk that.

But here is what really happened:  I was distracted and instead of mixing the paprika into the roux, I added the tomato paste.  At that point I removed it from the heat and added the paprika, sugar, and salt.  Oh well.  My mother-in-law told my husband that she makes the meat (and I assume the sauce) the same way she makes them for stuffed peppers.  I am apparently inspired from numerous sources and will just see what happens.....

I stirred in the tomato paste mixture, gently, gently as my pot was filled to the rim.  Now I am wait another 30 minutes before I test for doneness (meat) and flavor.

The test taste:

At 1 hour of cooking, the meat is done.  It tastes a bit salty to me.  The dish is not bad.  But it is not amazing.  Unfortunately I do not have a childhood of flavor memories to reference here.  I'll have to ask the resident Hungarian to do a taste test.

And the consensus was:  it is not bad.  perhaps, even good. but a bit bland.  Today I  happened to have served kolbasz (sausage) and mashed potatoes for lunch.  (And roasted peppers, made the night before.  Just saying.)  In true Hungarian style we decided that the one remaining spicy Italian pork sausage could only improve the stuffed cabbage.  And it has been added to the pot.

Now we will let it sit overnight and serve it for Christmas dinner tomorrow.  With sour cream, of course.  And homemade white rolls.

Preparing the tidy little cabbage rolls.

My pot was filled to the brim.

After the tomato paste mixture is added.

Very Sexy, indeed.

Taste Test

A few notes:  Next time I would use even less rice.  I would also use either bacon or sausage in the initial cooking to take it to the next level.  Also, I would make my meat filling more oblong instead of round in shape.  I should have counted, but did not and so can say that I ended up with about 15 cabbage rolls and that I had enough meat left over for two more.

Tinkering with the pot on the day after Christmas:  I added 1 teaspoon marjoram, 1 bay leaf and the remainder of the sauerkraut (about 2 cups).  Much improved!  I will definitely add these to the recipe and perhaps extra cooking time as well.


Revised Recipe for Next Time:

1 head cabbage, leaves steamed off and remainder diced
2 x 25 ounce jars sauerkraut

Filling:
1 large onion
1/3 cup white rice
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
2 pounds ground pork
2 eggs
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
2 teaspoons salt

Sauce:
oil (for roux)
2 teaspoons flour
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
2 6 ounce jars of tomato paste
1 teaspoon sugar
salt to taste if needed
2 bay leaf
2 teaspoons dried majoram leaves

Also contemplate adding sausage or bacon to pot.


Here is a sight with way too much information about stuffed cabbage:
http://www.squidoo.com/stuffed-cabbage#module12673893