Tag: Food | Peter O Regan

Most, But not the most

Posted on May 18, 2018 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

A habit building is the habit to check the menu before ordering anything. With a 10% service charge added, there’s no need for a borravaló, And so there won’t be.

Sometimes I’d consider adding a little extra but not this time. The service is satisfactory but the attitude is less appealing. A slow pint, it seems, is not acceptable. A light lunch is also questioned though that could be forgiveable seeing as with a Menu of the Day on offer, most people would jump at the opportunity. Me too if only it wasn’t all a little confusing, the menu itself that is. Set in a trendy newspaper style it fails to deliver. Too many pokey points.
However, it’s when I’m approached for the third time and asked if I’d like another beer, still a sizeable slug remaining, that I feel a bit put off. The place is nearly empty, except for me, and friends of the staff, or the owners themselves. Who knows.
The prices are also above acceptable especially for what you get. Over one thousand forints for a soup requires something more than nachos sprinkled on what could only be described as Nacho dip.
And then the beer at 890ft. Most, itt vagyok, Most-ban, and this is more than the most I’d like to pay for a snack. My other haunts torment me now, forlorn spectres adrift on the plateau of lost opportunities.

Something fishy ’bout this

Posted on March 3, 2017 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

Halkakas
Quick eat to café atmosphere
The place offers promise from without, a café style interior on entering, and fish on the menu. Tucked snugly on a corner along Veres Pálné utca one could almost pass by but and just by chance I was steered there on tripping out the stationery shop door on the opposite side of the street. As I had been lurking the district for some grub and yet was sure a street food burger would just spiritually rape me, the promise of fish spelt miraculous.
So picking a seat and forcing myself to be accepted as legit to the many eyes that looked up from their array of soups and other such dishes, I grabbed myself a menu and started to pave my glory.
Good selection of different fish dishes
First off the selection of fish dishes was impressive and while I worked my way through the Hungarian double taking on the “halburger” questioning its spelling, I was intrigued to find fish and chips tucked away in among the rest on offer and not a stand out, stand alone as if to play the signature dish!
I finally settled on the misspelt ‘hal’burger hoping that in fact it wasn’t a type-o and why should it be, it was a fish joint and not a burger of beef gaff. Still to be satiated in times of fussiness can lead to disaster so I grabbed myself a Foti Pils* to sip on while bracing myself for what was to come.
A fish burger I ordered and a fish burger I got, most flavorful, most delicious. The juices that flowed didn’t sog the burger buns but did leave me wishing to mop it up off the plate. Still being as full as I was that might have been unadvisable. The chips accompanying it were pre-salted and while this usually yields a common quib of mine this time I had no complaints. The potatoes were cut well and were proportionately tasty, something I never say!

*Fóti Sörfőzde

Prices match quality and in down town
What often gets my goat is the nonsense pricing that comes with difference and/or quality and whereas 2000huf may not be cheap in some people’s books, for what I ate and where I ate it, downtown, I would say it was on the balance a great deal. That I didn’t even need to eat again to any degree for the rest of the day (I ate here at around noon) is testimony to the depth of this good feed. Other fast food places may claim half the price but most have none of the quality, you can be damned sure.
The Others
As I was there I noticed a regular flow of what I’d describe as the young business folk lunching from small offices around so it never feels like brokersville, but from a business point of view very sustainable.
Friendly helpful patient staff
It’s counter service so tracking a menu was a flamboyant affair, me being flustered by the street and a clock that was running, but sitting and acquiring said menu, skipping past the temptation of ye olde fish N’s chips, jumping to the counter to order, doubling back twice, once for my wallet, another time for a peek at the beer menu, I never felt I, nor the girl serving were under any pressure. Her calm was infectious, perhaps. Could have used that when I was working in a bar. The guy who served up the plate, the chef or the cook, engaged professionally, being a busy man he still nodded acknowledgement, and listened without foothopping to my compliments as I was leaving.
Amen

Steampunk

Posted on September 23, 2016 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

Just recently I read an article about a little town in New Zealand which has become a Mecca for all Steampunk fans but it happened past my memory even after I’d flirted with sending the link to a Kiwi friend of mine (In circles he’s known rather as the Doc, or Doc Ock, but don’t ever call him Candy: Unless of course you’re a 6’8″ rugby player who looks like he eats nails for breakfast. Then you can say whatever you want).

Well, when you don’t believe in coincidences all you’re left with is destiny and here I am in Krak’NTown on József körút in downtown Budapest, itself a saloon dedicated to the whole Steampunk style. From the waiters to the walls it’s captured the general vibe and based upon some of the other guests it would seem like this place has the tourist draw based upon this very Steampunk premise. Little do we know till we explore.

PS: Beyond a modest selection of craft beers they also serve food and what I noticed as significant was that a vast majority of the food had an Isles incline with Cheddar cheese soup, Toad in a Hole for breakfast, Yorkshire pudding, black pudding, as well as the ever adventurous, Haggis! There is also an Irish red beer and stout, the latter I’d hoped for but the pipes were being cleaned. In the end I settled for an IPA and dealt with the Cheddar soup in company. A light lunch, a great experience.

©TheHairyTeacher2016

What’s in when going out?

Posted on December 3, 2014 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

If you mention Móricz Zsigmond körtér it often evokes a feeling of nostalgia, and this for a place I have but a recent memory of. I’ve thought and taught here and drunk but a bit and yet I feel it’s somewhere I’ve been before, a place of greater memories, even if it isn’t.
There is a certain atmosphere in the area what with the tram rushing through as well as the 6 and 61 finishing up here. The schools, bookshops, fastfood places, all a step off make it a vibrant hub and now with development of the Metro 4 complete this area has come into its own. It owns the night scene Buda side, even if Lövõház is challenging to the north, and with the restaurants, bars, and general nuisances fanning out in all directions from the square, it’s certainly a pin to put in your google, or mental, map. Bartók Béla út, which dissects the square, is the main source of attraction and distraction with Szatyor, Nevada Pub*, Moha*, to name but a few offering up in terms of not only food and drink but other forms of spiritual nourishment. Nevada with its Cowboyish Wild West look, swinging doors to boot, has live music from the middle of the stairs on your way up: a live set-up in such a confined space?…interesting! (Sometimes a DJ may take over.) Booking a table is almost a prerequisite especially if you’re a group, or come looking for the perfect seat. The winter sees activities contained indoors while the sun shine draws forth a smattering of chairs making it a perfect beer and leer environment, even if your lungs and ears have to compete with the slight inconvenience of pollution from the ever busy Bártok Béla út…
Szatyor across the street has a sprawling ground floor with tables all ariot, while upstairs the seating is shared with a space for performances, exhibitions, and all the rest. As with Nevada it can get tricky to find seating around the weekend so be warned.
Whereas Nevada is a pub with grub on offer, Szatyor is a cafe with its own culinary aspirations. An offer of garlic soup followed by a Lángos was one of the lunchtime treats when I was visiting , and I tried it (poor students that afternoon), so while many may judge that as its downfall, it was most certainly for me its selling point. Like Nevada service in Szatyor never breeches the barrier between polite and friendly with smiles being somewhat a rare commodity.Maybe it’s the pressure, maybe it’s me, but especially in Szatyor’s case it seemed to be a little off-putting.
Another place worth mentioning is Moha which can be found farther down the street towards Gellért tér, and which is also inclined to entertainment beyond the food and drink on offer. As a place for breakfast it works, with ham and eggs amongst the choices, and there is an atmosphere which suggests something greater bubbling just beneath the surface. The grand piano in the corner may have something to do with it; my interest peaked. Of all the places I’ve mentioned it is the one place which I have not had the chance to sample evening time, so as to what to expect I can only fictionalise. A sign indicating a movie theatre hidden somewhere out of the morning’s grasp leads me to conclude that this place is aspiring to something bigger. As to whether it will achieve this, well, that remains to be seen, or will perhaps remain forever relative, because afterall, what is success? How can it be…blah blah blah.
That there are plenty more places to choose from goes without saying but to a man who has now got two children and too little time, such voyages of exploration are somewhat staggered, at least in comparison with what has gone before. These days memory must serve in place of accuracy, perhaps, and so I leave you to ponder and, if you wish, to contradict my words, for afterall, and in the end, there is no right nor wrong, just subjective truths:)

http://szatyorbar.blog.hu/
https://www.facebook.com/MohaCafe?fref=ts

*UPDATE: Since writing this review I have been down that way again and found two changes, not to the locations but to the names.

Nevada is now Osztrák Söröző: https://www.facebook.com/osztrak

and Moha is The Rabbit and the Duck bar, with a great logo to boot.

http://rndbar.com/

https://www.facebook.com/rabbitandtheduckbar/info

©TheHairyTeacher2014

Jurányi

Posted on November 27, 2014 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

I missed the opening of an exhibition here recently and frankly if I had turned up and there hadn’t been free wine I may just have thrashed the gaff. Now the drawings were good as far as chalk on wall goes but I wouldn’t call it an exhibition: a drawing exhibited, but not warranting the whole nine yards. Unless there was free wine!

Well, anyway, inside this old school building, well preserved as it is, there is a passageway down beyond the entrance. Turning right and following the coloured lines one will find the gallery, the exhibition area, but more importantly the cafe/bar.

On offer there is a selection of sandwiches (tasting as if unwrapped), cakes – tempting to the sweet-toothed, and the remaining array of drinks you’d expect of any cafe.

Tucked inside the building one does get a feeling, what with hard chairs and checked tiled floors, that this could be canteeny, but being in the heart of an old school that doesn’t sound too shocking. There has been an attempt to brighten things up with the trademark colouring set not only on the corridor floor but on the programs strewn about, almost inconspicuously.

It is clean and there are even a few more comfortable sofas but what makes this place may be the view to the street or the courtyard or the chance to eavesdrop on artists’ conversations, but if like me you can’t speak Hungarian very well the former option is not enough. However, it doesn’t lack in energy replenishment: a lunchtime menu exists with soup, sandwich, salad choices, but for a person who craves atmosphere it is a bit of a let down.

Perhaps it’s the quiet before the storm; a festival event is scheduled for two hours from now. Perhaps it’s Friday. Perhaps it’s the hum of the fridges, the rain starting outside. All factors accounted for I ‘d say this place is a handy option in ‘out of the bustle’ this side of town, when bars and chain cafes aren’t your thing.

It could grow on me as a retreat from the crowd, but for now I must go in search of that very thing.

(NB: This was written in April of last year but all criticism is valid until it’s now!!!)

©TheHairyTeacher2014

Is this love…

Posted on October 1, 2014 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

I have a problem, I must admit it. Perhaps I should call a shrink, perhaps the police…you be the judge. My problem, you see, is this: I have of late found of my daughter’s head quite appealing. And before you say it: not in any aesthetic way,(although that may be considered, it may not be here!!!). I’m thinking more along the lines of haute cuisine. Or at least its alternatives on the higher plateaus of fine cuisine everywhere.

And yet I fear you have failed to understand me completely. I have never suggested that within the folds of her neck I smell sausages ( Claire…who knows who she is…once said this of that place, and with some reluctance, I must admit, she is right). Nor am I alluding to the frontal area, that place above the snot, but finely placed within the bop. No, not there either!

I am talking about an isolated area beyond the neck and in the upper regions, and yet not perceptible from the front, bar through the nostrils of a dog. In the parlance of the Jack and Jill-ian tradition, it is probably known as the crown; in my language of cooing and adoration it aligns itself with all things onomatopoeiac.

And yet with all the verbosity I have failed, with intention, to make myself clear.

You see, I smell curry…that’s right, quality curry – and I don’t mean a Saturday evening’s chips accompaniment half gawked up on the side of a road, a half-full carton still containing the pre-tasted fare looming chaste in the midst of all things otherwise- I smell the finest spices from the funkiest bazaar: I smell the routes to India, or from there, all things considered. I smell perfection…and it makes my stomach rumble, and what I fear is that I smell it coming from the crown of my own child.

As I hold her the scent of beauty rises, the risk of shame increases, and sometimes in my moment I feel less father and more cannibal. Some people talk almost high-faluting about the smell of new-born babes; me, I fear the truth in one-year-olds who have taken on the perverse scent of all that would be considered divine.

Now, before you ask: do I want to cannabilise my kid? Well,…do you have a good recipe?

35 Café

Posted on July 30, 2014 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

Bike themed and youthful the problem with this place is that it doesn’t take itself seriously enough as a business. My entering was greeted by surprise and my order was misheard.
Maybe I’m In a mood and maybe it is functional in a way that would usually serve but today that’s not enough.
After sitting stewing I decided to repeat my request and sure enough the girl had been allowing me the pick of the ziros kenyérs. I shot before asking questions: a trait I hate in others and which I’ve indulged myself just now to hypocritical proportions.
Now hunger tantrums aside let me take another look around. It is a basic spot complete with broken toilet (ladies) at the moment but with booth style seats it surely can be of use. Still in a district with so many alternatives being caught downstairs in the gloom at lunchtime is low on the list. Come nighttime, come difference perhaps but for now best take my word for it, unless like me your curiosity is greater than some random stranger’s opinion.
“Texas and whiskey… funerals”

https://www.facebook.com/35CafeSzerviz

Ankerd (Anker revisited)

Posted on August 28, 2013 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

Now there is a fine line between impatience and over-tolerance and whereas I’m prone to the latter my decision to walk out 25 mins after ordering a bundáskenyér/french toast was certainly not, as far as I was concerned, an undue criticism of Anker (Anker köz ).
The problem with student staffed places is that the attitude can align itself with the service while professionalism falls by the wayside. It takes a good manager to strike the right balance but Anker is just not up to scratch.
Walking out took effort as I was hungry and, mid-morning, running between classes. On an empty stomach I alighted onto the street and while I could have dwelled on my misfortune I chose to steal a silver lining: at least I’d be early for my lesson- no rushing necessary. That I popped into Tesco for a sausage roll and subsequently food poisoning may be utterly unrelated but I smell voodoo, the karma of non- pacificists!

(See previous review: http://thehairyteacher.com/to-pin-it-down/ )

Back for Seconds (Cafe 5 revisited)

Posted on July 18, 2013 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

Cafe Five, Kolossy tér, lunchtime.
A busy affair.
They mean business.
And these days even early evenings have their appeal.
Landing this side of town it’s definitely a recommendation.
Friendly staff, who speak English, and a bevy of buses, a tram line running by the window, and the urban railway (HÉV) a two minute walk away, makes this is not only comfortable but convenient.

(As for starters: http://thehairyteacher.com/cafe5/ )

A Stout Performance

Posted on July 14, 2013 by martinoregan • 0 Comments

If in Cork and in need of a dose of craft beers then why not try the PorterHouse, Sheare’s Street. Set in the Mardyke complex a little off dead centre it’s still on the run in from UCC and other noteworthy sights to see. A selection of food bits plus more a hungry soul will not find oneself abandoned, and for all those of the thirst quenching persuasion, even if craft isn’t your style, this is still a pub with all and sundry behind the bar.

For further details: http://www.porterhousebrewco.com/bars-cork-sheares.php

Tag Archives: Food