The Budapest Diet

You asked; I answered.

Recently transplanted to Budapest Alex Bochicchio spends her days off exploring the region, sampling the local cuisine and reading Eastern European guide books hoping to gain insight into the local culture and separate herself from all of the “other” tourists. She plans meals on what foods she can identify in Tesco and has all but given up the gym. Sounds like a regular twenty-something, down to her rationalization of liquids qualifying as a meal. She likes anything pickled. “The food here expires quickly so you need to eat what you buy fast. And if that means having half a block of cheese, a bucket of pickled cabbage and blackberries for dinner, so be it,” she explains. Read more about Bochicchio’s dining quirks in this week’s Budapest Diet.

Saturday, July 25

10:50 a.m. I begin to eat a pear I bought yesterday at a farmstand only to realize it had gone bad. Instead, I eat a very juicy and delicious nectarine. Then, I make steel cut oatmeal (which my mom brought over from the US) on the stove and add some milk and one artificial sweetener tablet that never quite dissolves. Cereal is my favorite food in the world, but I could eat en entire box without getting full, so I usually stick to oatmeal. And Hungary has the most amazing cereal options. My favorite is “Chocolate Pillows” which are hollow puffed rice squares filled with nutella. It really is a crime calling this a cereal and duping people into thinking it is a breakfast food.

3:07 p.m. I have a cappuccino and an almond paste filled croissant while writing at Marmote’s Café near the Basilica. I thought I ordered a regular croissant, so the almond filling was a surprise.

3:57 p.m. I walk home next via the road next to the river and stop at a booth selling pastries. I am a sucker for any sort of food from a booth because I equate food stands with authenticity. I buy a blackberry beigli, which is rolled pastry filled with nuts or fruit. I obviously have a ridiculous sweet tooth. I promise myself the pastry is for later, but eat half of it when I get home. I have some yogurt too.

7:49 p.m. I meet up with my friend to go the Suzanna Vega concert at Godor Club. We each have two gin and tonics each and split a package of ropogos, a Hungarian pretzel stick which put American pretzels to shame.

10:59 p.m. A couple friends and I go out on Margaret Island. We begin the night by drinking vodka and red bulls at Holdudvar. Except I don’t like red bull so I just drink straight vodka. Then, my friend suggests taking tequila shots but only if we get “gold” tequila, which I never have tried. Instead of salt, you lick cinnamon off of a lemon, take the shot and finish off with the lemon wedge. I can never go back. The grilled sandwich stand next to the bar looks amazing but we decide to wait until the end of the night for late-night food.

3:50 a.m. One of my favorite things about Budapest is that there are gyro and kabob stands literally on every corner. While waiting for a taxi (you need to call one here to avoid being ripped off by gypsy cabs), I get a chicken gyro. It is heaven. They grill the pita in front of you, slice off strips from the rotating hunk of meat (I don’t want to know how it gets like that), and add an unidentifiable blend of sauces. I always get extra chili sauce. It is the end of the night so it doesn’t matter that I spill gyro juice all over my (white) shirt.

Sunday, July 26

10:30 a.m. I wake up and drink lots of water. And pop a couple of Advil. I am very happy I have non-drowsy meds because sometimes I don’t and need to make the decision whether to endure a headache or knock myself out for most of the day.

11:31 a.m. There is no such thing as brunch here, so if I need a hungover brunch, I need to make it myself. I defrost some spinach, crack a couple of eggs and make a omelet. Then I toast a piece of bread in my oven and add a spread of soft cheese I just bought. When I bite into the cheese, I realize it is “ham” flavored. Kinda weird, but also kinda good. I want something sweet after breakfast so I have a rice cake with nutella. I need to be careful with the nutella as it has the power to render me helpless to its cravings.

1:32 p.m. I have some diet coke. I drink way less than I did in the US but I know it is still bad for me. Then, I remember what I drank last night and comparatively it isn’t too bad.

3:33 p.m. I get the student special from Govinda, the Hare Krishna restaurant across the street from my apartment. The student special includes a vegetarian dish, a slice of some sort of fried vegetable (today was eggplant) and one piece of what I can only describe as fried naan. When they have beet salad, I buy that too but they didn’t have it today. The food is a little greasy, but so, so delicious. Amazing how those things go hand in hand.

4:32 p.m. I am not hungry in the least, but I have some ropogos anyway.

8:30 p.m. My friend who is a fantastic cook makes a dinner of chicken paprikash and egg noodles. It is amazing. Chicken paprikash is my favorite Hungarian dish and actually pretty easy to make – you sauté chicken, onions and garlic, add a ton of paprika and other spices, simmer in chicken broth and add in sour cream to finish it off. We also have Greek salad and a bottle of wine I brought over.

11:01 p.m. I make lunch for work the next day. I used to eat at Tesco or Kika with my coworkers but I cannot eat fast food or heavy Hungarian food for lunch every day. The meal that put me over the edge was a stew at Kika that consisted of a few vegetables, lots of pork and a ton of French fries all smothered in brown sauce. Topped with grated cheese. I fell into a coma upon going back to work and decided I needed to make a few changes. I sautéed frozen vegetables, tofu and soy sauce in a pan for lunch the next day. When I am lazy, I don’t even cook the veggies and tofu and just heat them up in the microwave at work. Not fancy, but also not coma or heart-attack inducing. I prefer to clog my arteries mainly on weekends.

11:41 p.m. I must confess I had a little more nutella. Like I said, I am powerless to that stuff.


Marcus, Calin & Jackie on Saturday night.


Yup; I'm wearing Anne Taylor at a club.


If this isn't Eurotrash, I don't know what is (please see bracelet and hang ten sign).