Domesticity in Hungary

I just called my family in Boston, and my mom told me they had been talking about how “restless” I am. Well, I pretty much agree with that. However, I have had a decidedly un-restless weekend here in Budapest. With which I will now bore you.

After stalking Gauranga on his blog, I learned my beloved yoga basement studio had moved from across the street to across the city. Because I can no longer make the classes during the week, I took my first class in almost a month on Saturday morning. It was amazing. Bikram and I have rekindled our special relationship, if only for casual weekend flings.

It FINALLY feels like spring in Budapest, so I did my favorite thing – wander around the city. I bought stuff I didn't need at the Great Market Hall, found a birthday present for El Nino, and confirmed gyros in Budapest are better than ones in Istanbul. Life is good.

With a newfound confidence in Hungarian cooking , Susan, Kelly, and I cooked a Hungarian dinner. Despite the inevitable ingredient-purchasing mishaps, the Pancakes Hortobágy and meggyes pite were delish. That being said, cold eggs would have tasted good if accompanied by three bottles of wine.


When Susan tells you she is a bad cook, do not believe her.


Why wouldn't we take the exact same picture three times.


This reminded me of my favorite dinner growing up - mom's pancakes for dinner. Any other recipe from the back of a Bisquick box was a close second.


We made the second, less authentic pastry with Susan's Del Monte 100-calorie mixed fruit cups.


I celebrated the continued awesome weather on Sunday with a looooooong run around Margaret Island. I sported my new spandex running pants and felt like a legitimate runner. Especially compared to the pack of middle-aged women jogging in blue jean vests.

Speaking of running, I have been ravenous since the half-marathon. I usually cook meals for the week on Sunday, so decided to recreate the most “filling” meal I could think of – Collis’s African Peanut Soup. You NEED to try this.

And now I am about to meet Andrea, who is visiting for a few days. Excluding my slight wine hangover, if this was not a wholesome, domestic weekend – I don’t know what is. Really the only thing left to do is buy myself a sweet blue jean vest.