The Hungarian stew that stirred a nation
From cattle herders to revolutionaries, a humble stew has earned its place as a symbol of Hungarian freedom, survival, and national pride.
Across Hungary, a familiar ritual unfolds. On stove tops in high rise flats, in open fields at countryside fairs, and inside the kitchens of some of Europe's most acclaimed restaurants, cast-iron bogrács (cooking pots) bubble gently. The smell of nostalgia fills the air. This is gulyás (goulash). A dish that has sustained generations, and, in a country characterized by reinvention, preserved and evolved Hungary's national identity.
But before gulyás became a culinary icon, it was a solution. In the 9th and 10th centuries, Hungary's gulyások, the cattle herders of the Alföld, needed meals as mobile as they were. Over open fires, they slow-cooked beef, onions, water, and wild herbs in heavy cast-iron pots. The result was a nourishing stew that could be reduced, dried, and rehydrated on the move.
'The gulyások lifestyle meant that it was a necessity to cook their food outdoors over an open fire,' says Carolyn Bánfalvi, food historian. 'Hungarians have always been partial to stewing meats, so it made sense for them to chop the meat into small pieces and stew it over the open fire.'
But it wasn't until the 18th century that paprika entered the picture, brought via trade routes that stretched from the Ottoman Empire into Central Europe. On the plains of Hungary, farmers began cultivating it in abundance.
Paprika became the most Hungarian of ingredients and that's when the dish started to take the shape we now associate with gulyás.
Carolyn Bánfalvi, food historian
That single, aromatic flourish transformed the dish. With a new depth of flavor and signature red hue, gulyás emerged a cornerstone of a culinary identity Hungary was beginning to forge of its own.
By the 18th century, gulyás had made its way from the plains into towns, taverns, and middle-class homes. But in the politically charged decades that followed, it began to take on a new role—as a marker of national unity.
'In the 1790s, gulyás was first recorded in writing as being a national dish,' Bánfalvi explains. 'The image of herdsmen cooking over a fire seemed to strike a chord, and the dish soon became synonymous with Hungarian cuisine.'
As Hungarians sought greater autonomy within the Austro-Hungarian Empire, preparing gulyás in the home became more than simply cooking food. While the Viennese elite leaned towards creamy, French-inspired fare, everyday Hungarians doubled down on their own culinary tastes. In this context, serving gulyás was a way of preserving national identity.
'In the early 1960s it became law for public kitchens—like school and workplace canteens—to cook using recipes from a state-published cookbook,' explains Bánfalvi. 'Gulyás was included, of course, because it was an easy dish to industrialize.'
DID YOU KNOW? Gulyás has been a recorded national dish of Hungary for over 230 years.
Today in Hungary, the gulyás tradition continues to live on. It's a fixture at food festivals and the centerpiece of family cookouts.
Every family has their own take. In some parts of the country, pork replaces beef. In others, it's all about the potatoes or the csipetke noodles. But the heart of the dish remains in slow cooking, shared eating, and the comfort of something that connects generations.
That connection isn't static. In Budapest, Tamás Széll and Szabina Szulló (Michelin-starred chefs) have played a key role in reimagining traditional gulyás. These fine dining interpretations elevate the iconic dish with refined techniques and presentation, while staying true to its historic roots.
Wherever it's enjoyed—over a rural campfire in the Alföld or at a white-tableclothed restaurant—gulyás tells the story of Hungary. It has fed people through hardship and celebration, through revolution and renewal. The method may change, but the rhythm stays the same.
'It's a dish for any occasion,' Bánfalvi concludes. 'We even served a giant pot the night before my wedding. We didn't have enough bowls or spoons, but it was the perfect Hungarian meal to say welcome.'
Find out more about Hungary's culinary heritage here.
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The Hungarian stew that stirred a nation
From cattle herders to revolutionaries, a humble stew has earned its place as a symbol of Hungarian freedom, survival, and national pride. Across Hungary, a familiar ritual unfolds. On stove tops in high rise flats, in open fields at countryside fairs, and inside the kitchens of some of Europe's most acclaimed restaurants, cast-iron bogrács (cooking pots) bubble gently. The smell of nostalgia fills the air. This is gulyás (goulash). A dish that has sustained generations, and, in a country characterized by reinvention, preserved and evolved Hungary's national identity. But before gulyás became a culinary icon, it was a solution. In the 9th and 10th centuries, Hungary's gulyások, the cattle herders of the Alföld, needed meals as mobile as they were. Over open fires, they slow-cooked beef, onions, water, and wild herbs in heavy cast-iron pots. The result was a nourishing stew that could be reduced, dried, and rehydrated on the move. 'The gulyások lifestyle meant that it was a necessity to cook their food outdoors over an open fire,' says Carolyn Bánfalvi, food historian. 'Hungarians have always been partial to stewing meats, so it made sense for them to chop the meat into small pieces and stew it over the open fire.' But it wasn't until the 18th century that paprika entered the picture, brought via trade routes that stretched from the Ottoman Empire into Central Europe. On the plains of Hungary, farmers began cultivating it in abundance. Paprika became the most Hungarian of ingredients and that's when the dish started to take the shape we now associate with gulyás. Carolyn Bánfalvi, food historian That single, aromatic flourish transformed the dish. With a new depth of flavor and signature red hue, gulyás emerged a cornerstone of a culinary identity Hungary was beginning to forge of its own. By the 18th century, gulyás had made its way from the plains into towns, taverns, and middle-class homes. But in the politically charged decades that followed, it began to take on a new role—as a marker of national unity. 'In the 1790s, gulyás was first recorded in writing as being a national dish,' Bánfalvi explains. 'The image of herdsmen cooking over a fire seemed to strike a chord, and the dish soon became synonymous with Hungarian cuisine.' As Hungarians sought greater autonomy within the Austro-Hungarian Empire, preparing gulyás in the home became more than simply cooking food. While the Viennese elite leaned towards creamy, French-inspired fare, everyday Hungarians doubled down on their own culinary tastes. In this context, serving gulyás was a way of preserving national identity. 'In the early 1960s it became law for public kitchens—like school and workplace canteens—to cook using recipes from a state-published cookbook,' explains Bánfalvi. 'Gulyás was included, of course, because it was an easy dish to industrialize.' DID YOU KNOW? Gulyás has been a recorded national dish of Hungary for over 230 years. Today in Hungary, the gulyás tradition continues to live on. It's a fixture at food festivals and the centerpiece of family cookouts. Every family has their own take. In some parts of the country, pork replaces beef. In others, it's all about the potatoes or the csipetke noodles. But the heart of the dish remains in slow cooking, shared eating, and the comfort of something that connects generations. That connection isn't static. In Budapest, Tamás Széll and Szabina Szulló (Michelin-starred chefs) have played a key role in reimagining traditional gulyás. These fine dining interpretations elevate the iconic dish with refined techniques and presentation, while staying true to its historic roots. Wherever it's enjoyed—over a rural campfire in the Alföld or at a white-tableclothed restaurant—gulyás tells the story of Hungary. It has fed people through hardship and celebration, through revolution and renewal. The method may change, but the rhythm stays the same. 'It's a dish for any occasion,' Bánfalvi concludes. 'We even served a giant pot the night before my wedding. We didn't have enough bowls or spoons, but it was the perfect Hungarian meal to say welcome.' Find out more about Hungary's culinary heritage here.
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