At the point when I moved out of my parent’s home, some 25 years ago, I sat down in the kitchen while my mother cooked dinner and tried to make notes of a couple of recipes. At the time I imagined that I was “learning to cook”. My little cookbook has expanded its repertoire of recipes from time to time since then, and there are recipes that I do dig out periodically, but I’d be lying if I said that those recipes had proven to be sufficient in themselves.

My dear David, Molli, Anna and Bori!
I am writing this blog especially for you: to be a place where you can recall ancient flavours and memories, and so that when the time comes for you to set out on your own, you will have a ready-made collection of recipes from me. Although who on earth has ever seen a finished collection of recipes…
It is already evident that you already venture bravely into the kitchen for yourselves. For years now you have been way ahead of where I was at 18.
I hope that you find as much joy and satisfaction in the flavours, scents, colours and textures of cooking and eating as I have, and that you will gather inspiration from everywhere, and experiment freely for yourselves.

Budapest, July 2014

(portrait created by Bulla Bea)




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