Hungary is the mother-land (literally), where my mum’s family all hail from, going back many generations.
My grandmother asked me to visit Hungary before she dies, hence this trip (not that she’s about to die any time soon, but she turns 85 this year so no point in leaving it too much longer!).
During this visit I discovered something that was kept hidden from me by my family all through my childhood: Hungary has utterly delectable cakes. How could I have not known this sooner?
This omission may have something to do with there being only one Hungarian cake shop in the city where I grew up in Australia. Nonetheless I couldn't help but feel betrayed and cheated out of an entire sensory experience growing up.
Hungarian cakes are mostly of the sponge variety, with rich gateau-style creamy fillings, but very light and fluffy (think whipped chocolate mousse).
They come in dozens of different varieties, with different flavours and colours. All this cream certainly had an effect on my stomach… I had not been so regular for a long time if you know what I mean!
No wonder diabetes runs in my family. While France wins in the pastry stakes, I think Hungary might even win in the cake stakes. We were well on our way to eating ourselves into a heart attack….
Most days started with cake for breakfast, followed by cake for lunch, then again for afternoon tea, sometimes again in the evening (alternate was gelati, another popular dessert).
Best of all, Hungarian cakes are not expensive (about £1 to £1.50 at most per slice). This meant that we could eat a lot.
And eat a lot we did!
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