All of us may agree that cooking
requires concentration as well as a delicate touch, patience, and attention
to detail, can we not? Oh, don't forget love, too. That's probably the
most essential element. Now, I firmly believe that culinary chitchat
in or out of the kitchen is essential, and often as important as the
prime ingredients in the recipe being concocted. But God forbid you
should talk politics! The boiling point of individual opinions on this
subject can often reach the temperature on the stove! One's viewpoint
of this or that recipe intertwined with the state of world affairs is
sensitive and deeply personal, to say the least. A good bottle of Cabernet
or Chardonnay during the cooking process can add fuel to the partisan
fire, too. Now, while this may be true of we native-born Americans who
vehemently vocalize our right to agree to disagree, the political climate
in the kitchen is slightly different from those who immigrated and brought
comestible and piquant recipes with them to their new home in the good,
old USA. Point in case, my late and dear friend, Susha 'Suzie' Petrie.
Suzie and her husband, Paul, were
born and raised in Budapest, Hungary. Though, unable to have children,
Suzie and Paul were devoted to each other and shared a deep love. They
were each other's 'best friend.' At the height of the Hungarian Revolution
in 1956, Suzie and Paul made a decision to escape their Soviet occupiers
and fled to the West leaving behind everything they owned except the
clothes on their backs and a few personal possessions. Fortunately for
them (and me), they were sponsored and immigrated to America the following
year. They settled in the Milwaukee suburb of Waukesha, Wisconsin. Eventually,
Paul was able to resume his career as a civil engineer and Suzie resumed
to hers as a bookkeeper. As with so many dedicated, decent, and hardworking
immigrants, they were able to establish a new life and they prospered.
Years later, I was introduced to
this wonderful couple by a mutual acquaintance. We became fast friends
much to my good fortune. If anything, Paul was the political rabble-rouser
in the family and I understood and appreciated his anti-Communist passion
from personal experience. My sister-in-law and her family escaped from
Latvia and Stalin's tyranny at the end of WW II under much the same
circumstances. But, that's another story. Paul was the political (I
mean overtly opinionated) kitchen activist; Suzie, on the other hand,
was the serene, non-political, peacemaker in the house. With her short,
stout frame and dazzling silver hair, Suzie glided through her domain
with ease and grace. In her thick, Hungarian accent, everyone was referred
to as 'dahlink'and we were consistently urged to 'enjoy my sweet pushka.'
Her loving and sincere endearments
aside, Suzie were one of the most marvelous cooks I have ever known.
If the Soviets ruled her native Hungary, make no mistake that Suzie
ruled the kitchen in Waukesha! From her Hortobagy pancakes to her stuffed
cabbage, she conducted a virtual Hungarian Rhapsody with every recipe.
The instruments in her culinary, magical, masterpieces included fresh
paprika, garlic, onion, and caraway. She was the Maestro of things delicious
in that small, Wisconsin town.
But, if I remember anything from
the dinner parties I attended in their modest home, it was Suzie's Goulash
Soup (Guyasleves in Hungarian). Rich in beef flavor with hints of paprika,
garlic, caraway, onion, tomato, and delicate slices of fresh potato,
it was a meal in itself, not a starter course as Suzie always insisted
it was. The crowning touch to this overture were the drops of homemade
dumplings that Suzie added at the finale of the soup's boiling period.
Served with slices of freshly baked bread, Paul would pour generous
glasses of Egri Bikaver (Hungarian red wine) from his wine vault. Sitting
at the table, surrounded by friends, and savoring Suzie's loving handiwork,
the outcome of the Cold War seemed irrelevant. The controversy of Capitalism
versus Communism faded away amidst laughter, toasts, and newfound East/West
camaraderie. In a small way, Suzie's goulash soup was her own culinary
decree of 'Perestroika.' She had several recipes for this wonderful
delicacy, however, I am including the one that was Suzie's favorite
and the one passed on to her from her mother in the 1920's. Suzie and
Paul are gone, now but, they and their memory are alive and well with
me in the form of this marvelous dish. 'Enjoy, my dahlink pushkas.'
About the
Author: David Adams
is a retired engineer living in Atlanta, GA. His other contributions
to In Mama's Kitchen include, Uncle Al, My Mother, and Neapolitan Ragu,
The Great Texas Bean Robbery and, Wyatt, Doc, and Huevos Rancheros.
Besides his passion for cooking and recipe gathering, his interests
include the arts, fishing, professional sports, and doting on his 5
grandchildren. He describes himself as a well-traveled bon vivant and
professional raconteur.
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