skinny girls & mayonnaise

One of the best parts of having a large dinner party circuit is being treated to ethnic meals prepared by friends who come from disparate corners of the globe.

Andras’ Hungarian fried chicken

Dinners that come to mind in recent history include Singapore street food, a Russian Easter feast, a Dominican roast pork pernil, and a dazzling Norwegian multekrem dessert of heavenly cloudberries. We once went to a Chinese friend’s home for Szechuan hot pot — the meal’s centerpiece was a large pile of duck tongues.

Our pal, Andras, who hails from Budapest, Hungary, has cooked for us before — making one of the best darned goulashes ever (and I’ve had my share of goulash!). Out came the paprika again on a recent Saturday night, as he prepared for us a traditional Sunday night Hungarian dinner.

Cuke salad

I was at the stove, charged with appetizers (Japanese-style fried wild mushrooms and softshell crab candy, not precisely an appropriate prelude to a rustic Hungarian meal) as Andras began his preparations. He approached the chicken with an Eastern European stoicism and workman-like demeanor. Roll in flour, dip in egg, roll in breadcrumb. Repeat.

“How long do you cook it?” he asked at some point, referring to his own chicken. I offered up my neat trick of crisping it up on the outside, and then placing it in 250-degree oven for awhile to ensure it’s cooked through.

Proud papa and his cukes

We sat by candlelight out on the deck of our friends, Bob and Shoba’s home, overlooking the twinkling lights of the valley and the elementary school of my youth. I tried to take a video of Andras explaining the Hungarian Sunday dinner tradition. When I went back to watch it later, you could make out the candlelight and hear the clinking of glasses, and that was about it.

The chicken, like all the world’s great fried chicken dishes, was crispy and moist, salty and rich. Served with a cucumber salad and some well-executed mashed potatoes, it was the equal of most of the world’s great comfort foods — albeit with a paprika twist.

I kept Andras’ instructions largely intact, because they amused me and reminded me of him. I’m sure you can figure out any missing parts.

As they say in Hungary, “Egészségédre!”

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Sunday night Hungarian fried chicken dinner
serves 8-10