Fraternity-Testvériség, 1956 (34. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1956-02-01 / 2. szám
TESTVÉRISÉG 19 HUNGARIAN CHURCH DINNER Come to a Magyar meal to eat chicken paprikas, stuffed cabbage, cheese=filled pancakes and crescent cookies By Clementine Paddleford “This Week” Food Editor (Reprinted from “This Week” Magazine — Feb. 5, 1956) Elyria, Ohio. The table was seven feet long and four feet wide, and every square inch a maze of sweetness. I counted 23 desserts, each one made with loving care just for me to taste. The bakers were there, all 23 of them, to see that I tasted, to watch while I sampled, ears cocked for praise. And praiseworthy these desserts, each baker being an artist in her particular field. First, I forked into a slice of poppy-seed cake; next, a long strip of strudel; the tortes followed, three kinds in a row. There were the celestial crusts, the open-face cheese cakes . . . I was unprepared for this superabundance of richness. A full-size Hungarian dinner had preceded, and to this I did justice. I had second helpings of the chicken paprikas and those tiny egg dumplings called nokedli. “Another meat- stuffed cabbage roll?” “Thanks, yes.” What I had mistaken foolishly for the dessert was a huge rolled pancake filled with cottage cheese and sauced with sour cream. Urged to have a third; well, why not! You would have done the same, the pancakes were so delicious! You see my predicament. I had eaten until my eyes were glazed, for Hungarian cooks have a way with food that is piquant and savory and utterly satisfying, quite beyond words to describe. For several years, whenever I was in the state of Ohio, someone was always mentioning the Hungarian church dinner put on for crowds by the women of the Magyar (meaning Hungarian) Evangelical and Reformed Church on West River Street in Elyria. This is an industrial town; some 90 factories are busy here. The population of 36,000 is made up of many foreign groups, but Hungarians predominate. Life for them centers around their church, especially so since 1939 when the Reverend Louis Novak and his young wife Irene came to the parsonage. The Novaks, second-generation Hungarians, sensed a need among their people to keep the best of the old in their cultural background to blend with the best of the new in their adopted America. Gifts brought from the old world must not be lost. Through the activities of the church, the Novaks have tried to preserve the poetry of the Old World, its folklore, the love of the dance. It was the women of the church who said; . . and the cuisine of our native Hungary is as important as its music.” No festival or holiday is complete without the traditional dishes. These women wanted their daughters, who were beginning to be real American girls, to inherit their own talent as cooks. So it was that whenever a community supper or picnic was in the making, the foods were prepared the Hungarian way. It’s Served Family Style Outsiders began to hear of this fabulous eating — and they wanted to come. Eventually organizations planning get-togethers would ask one of the nine Magyar Women’s Guilds to prepare a chicken paprikas dinner. The church needed many things and the women saw a way to help earn the needed money. They charged $2.50 a plate and served the dinner family style. This dinner is always the same, that is, until you come to the dessert — then it’s take your choice among the many pastries. Each woman contributes the thing which she does best, baking at home and donating the product. Guests began coming from all directions, from Oberlin College seven miles away; they came from Cleveland and from local towns. The supper money soon was helping reduce the church building debt and in addition paid for an ultra-modern kitchen. It did much more — it proved a way to keep alive the fine culinary traditions of Hungarian cooks. I had written to the Dorcas Guild and asked if they would let me know when a supper was on the calendar — I would like to visit and come early to see the dishes made. Instead, I was invited as the honored guest, supper prepared just for me by the 27 women of the Dorcas Guild. Mrs. Alex Miko was making palacsintás. She smiled and I smiled, as she deftly flipped a big thin pancake to the work board. Mrs. Grace Balias laid on the filling of sweetened cottage cheese, then rolled the golden, brown-spotted pancake. The rolls she arranged in glass pie plates to be sauced later with sour cream, then into the oven until heated through all-a-bubble — that being a main-course dish which I mistook for dessert. Mrs. A1 Wyszynski was making the tiny dumplings, the nokedli, to go with the chicken
