BOGRACS GULYAS (GOULASH)

A bogras is a large kettle, and gulyas means "cowboy" or "Sheppard." Almost certainly the Magyars started as a cow herding rather than a sheepherding people. Hungarians still raise the Hungarian Steppe Cattle they brought with them into the Carpathian Basin. So "cowboy" would be closer to the original meaning. Without the ten gallon hats.

Gulyas got its start at least as early as the ninth century, when the seven tribes were pastoral nomads in central Asia. As is standard practice for nomadic peoples, they would slaughter a steer, horse, or some such and prepare a sort of dried stew. A mixture of (say) beef and onion was simmered in a bogras until the meat was cooked and the liquid evaporated. Then the remnants would be sun dried. After that the stuff was dumped into a cow's stomach for storage and transport. Come lunch time, this rough and ready pemmican could be eaten as is. Or it could be simmered again. Eaten dry it was gulyas meat. If only a little water was added, it became gulyas stew. If there was plenty of water it became gulyas soup. Some people claim that if it's thick, it isn't gulyas, but I don't hold with that notion. Probably because I like to make my gulyas thick.

Paprika was not on Magyar spice shelf. Paprika is native to the Americas, and so is unlikely to have been used in central Asia before Columbus. (Well, there are those iconoclasts who claim that paprika grew wild in pre-Columbian Africa, but there is little evidence supporting the contention.) Paprika probably spread from Central America through Spain to Italy. Thence from the Venetians to Istanbul. It entered Hungary through the good offices of the Ottoman Turks. At this time the Turks had conquered the Balkans and much of south-central Europe. They continued to hold much of the area for centuries. Originally the Hungarians called paprika torok bors; that is, Turkish pepper.

There are sweet, medium, and hot Hungarian Paprikas, to be used at the cook's discretion. Use a lot of discretion with the hot paprika, it’s mouth searing. I’d go with half-hot if you can find it. Otherwise use sweet. In no case should you substitute other paprikas in any Slavic or Magyar recipes. Spanish paprika, for example, is a different species of the plant, with a much different taste. California paprika is good for food coloring. I've never seen paprika save as a ground dried spice. But In Hungary and contiguous areas various parts of the plant are also used fresh. Paprika took over the cooking of the area because it could be grown by any peasant. Pepper had to be imported from the Spice Islands, and cost a fortune and a half. Paprika was the poor man's pepper.

A proper gulyas is never thickened with flour. Nor is it French-ified by the addition of wine.

1 Large Onion
Oil
3 lb Lean Stewing Beef
Hungarian Paprika
2 tsp Caraway Seeds
pinch of Marjoram
Salt
Garlic
Beef Stock

I use a heavy bottomed stock pot for this recipe. Peel, fine chop, and sauté the onion in the pot. Cut the beef into 1" cubes. When the onion is nicely translucent, lower the heat and add the paprika. Use enough to paprika color the onions a deep dull orange. Gently warming paprika with the onions brings out its flavor. But over heating Hungarian paprika will make it bitter, so be cautious. Remove and reserve the onion. Deglaze the pot with a little stock, and scrape all the paprika out of the pot.

Rewarm the pot and add more oil. Brown each piece of meat on all sides. Set the beef aside as it is browned, until all the meat is done. I just dump the pieces into the same bowl that holds the onions. When the meat is all browned, deglaze the pot with a cup of beef stock. Add marjoram, garlic, and salt. (If you use canned beef broth, leave off the salt till later. Store bought stock is plenty salty by itself. Those boxes of chicken or beef broth aren’t over stalted. Homemade stock is best.)

Crush the caraway seeds to release their flavor, and add them. The back of a spoon is what the cookbooks recommend. Or you can use the butt of a Chinese cleaver-slicer and a cup as a pestle and mortar. Hey, if you have one, you can even use a proper mortar and pestle. In my experience, wetting the caraway seeds makes crunching them an easier proposition. Return the beef and onions to the pot. Add enough stock to just cover the meat. Simmer for an hour or more, with the pot covered. The liquid should not bubble, but should be warm enough that there are currents visible in the water. Add more stock as necessary. It’s done when the beef is fork tender.

If you order gulyas in a Budapest restaurant, you’re likely to get something like this. Perhaps with potatoes or drop noodles on the side. You can get fancier, and some Hungarian cooks do. But basic gulyas isn’t far removed from its horse-barbarian roots.