For My Family, Hungarian Summers Are As Sweet As Stone Fruit

Plums, peaches, apricots, and cherries anchor Sarah Copeland's summers with family in central Hungary.

When I think of Hungary, my husband ’s homeland, I think of the stone fruits that bookend our late-summer trips to the village of his childhood. Here, on the plains of central Hungary at the foot of the Bakony Mountains, fruit is the song of our summers. Platters of dinnye (melon) and clusters of szőlő (wine grapes) are the melody that carries through a decade-long renovation of our 300-year-old house, next door to my in-laws.

Last summer, we came to finish the guesthouse and to tame the wild plum trees, whose branches are so heavy they scrape the soil. We harvested inky blackberries and tended land nourished by millennia of livestock. We ate stone fruit raw by the fistful: meggyes, luscious Balaton cherries; őszibarack, fist-sized peaches; szilva, sour plums in every shape and size (small and yellow, firm and blushed, deep purple and tender — a prune in the making); and ribizli, red currants, the scarlet orbs dangling from tiny stems. My children love to pull them off one by one with their lips.

Every year, fruit is also the muse of our summer kitchen. We cook apricots low and slow into a tender pulp called lekvár, a fruit butter to spread on rolled pancakes. We sprinkle plums into thick, earthy tortes laced with poppy seeds. To me, these tortes offer the taste of perseverance; the story of shifting borders, world wars, communist rule, and the 1956 revolution — all baked in a humble cake. It’s the food of the village folk, of our family, that I crave on the long stretches between trips. Like the people themselves, it is modest but remarkable.

When I first met my husband, András, 16 years ago, his native tongue was beyond my recognition. Magyar (Hungarian) is renowned for its complexity, influenced by centuries of nomadic history. (The Magyars are thought to have settled in the region around 900 A.D.) On visits, I would get by on small bits of German, the second language of our village, but it was fruit that gave me an inroad: walking the orchard with András’ father, learning to tame the gnarled limbs; perching atop pots full of stone fruit with his mother, mimicking the movements of her small but discerning knife, trimming away only the largest offenses. Here, perfect fruit is suspect; most villagers, like my in-laws, still use sustainable growing practices. The result: boastful flavor, and sometimes-spotted fruit that expresses its exceptional terroir.

Related: This Spice Paste Is the Secret to Hungarian Cooking

Three weeks into our months-long stay every summer, András’ mother rolls palacsinta — thin pancakes — spread with apricot lekvár. Stacks of them wait in a warm oven, covered to stay moist, ours for the taking between hauling branches and taking hikes up the Bakony’s gentle slope. My mother-in-law lavishes jewel-toned gyümölcsleves, a tart fruit soup, into shallow bowls and humors me if I whisk a ladleful away to our wedding porcelain, from nearby Herend, for a photo. The rest goes into jelly jars, to be chilled in the fridge for the next day’s trip to the beach at Lake Balaton, Central Europe’s playground, an hour south. There, we eat lángos, fried dough slathered with garlic and sour cream. Black and pink currants float in the iced lemonade we drink in the warmth. We feast on fagyi, or ice cream, in every flavor, from bodzavirág (elderflower) to fekete szeder (blackberry).

Our last days of the summer every year are spent moving soil and plotting our small orchard. It’s taxing work, but work that lends an intimacy to the land. We’re shaping next year’s crop, growing a legacy that will feed our children for decades to come.

Recipes

Pörkölt-Style Grilled Chicken Thighs with Stone Fruit, Fennel, and Paprika Salad

Inspired by the flavor of Hungary’s popular meat stew, this summery chicken dish gets bold flavor from Copeland’s pickle and paprika paste marinade. Peaches, plums, and sliced fennel in the salad offer a fresh, sweet contrast to the chicken along with another hit of ground paprika in the dressing. You can also use this versatile, easy-to-make marinade for shrimp, firm whitefish, or pork.

Get the Recipe

Szilvás Pita (Tender Plum-and-Poppy Seed Cake)

Set atop the batter, fresh plums settle into this cake as it bakes and help keep the crumb moist. Copeland describes this Hungarian country-style cake as a wholesome treat that’s often served at tiez hora (10 o’clock meal break) or during uzsonna (afternoon snack) with tea or coffee. She puts her own spin on this classic—including brown sugar in the batter for a bit of deep molasses flavor. Use firm but ripe plums so that they keep their shape during baking.

Get the Recipe

Hungarian Fruit Soup

A mix of tart cherries, apples, and berries picks up a mild cinnamon spice as it simmers in this chilled soup. Copeland follows her mother-in-law’s fruit soup style, which aims for a tangy, sour profile. This refreshing dish is often served as a first course or digestive following a heavy meat dish. Cornstarch gives the fruity broth delicate body.

Get the Recipe

Palacsinta (Hungarian Pancakes) with Apricot Lekvár

Tender and light, these thin pancakes are rolled up with simple homemade apricot preserves. The pancake batter has no added sugar—Copeland says a hallmark of Hungarian sweets and treats is that they aren’t overtly sweet. If you don’t have homemade apricot lekvár on hand, substitute good-quality preserves or fruit spread.

Get the Recipe

Sárgabarack Lekvár (Apricot Fruit Butter)

Copeland describes lekvár as a cross between preserves and fruit butter— spreadable, with soft chunks of fruit throughout. She serves it on palacsinta (Hungarian pancakes) and says the sweet and tangy apricot butter is also often given as a treasured gift to dear friends and neighbors.

Get the Recipe

Ribizli Fagylalt (Red Currant Ice Cream)

This refreshing ice cream gets mild tang and tartness from crème fraîche and notes of raspberry and rhubarb from red currants. Inspired by the passionate summer ice cream culture at Lake Balaton, Copeland opts for currants, which are abundant at Hungarian markets during peak season but not often used for ice cream.

Get the Recipe

For more Food & Wine news, make sure to sign up for our newsletter!

Read the original article on Food & Wine.