First and foremost, let us establish this provocative proposition: before Gundel, even if Hungarian catering did exist – for there were obviously restaurants – these establishments, on the one hand, cooked from haphazard collections of recipes, and on the other, were merely unambitious imitations of Viennese catering. I do not by any means wish to pass judgement on them, but one thing is certain: Károly Gundel, the restaurateur, as he called himself, it was his culinary vision and experience of high-end restaurants that created the authentic Hungarian restaurant style capable of satisfying every hungry palate, whether rich or less so.

GUNDEL SYSTEMATISED THE TRADITIONAL DISHES OF HUNGARIAN CUISINE, modernised them, and, by applying European – and in particular French – techniques, created modern Hungarian cuisine. 

In doing so, it creates a Hungarian-inspired culinary culture that will endure in the long term. The common thread is Hungarian tradition; whether the dishes evoke class distinctions of the past or the present – distinctions that may be a matter of taste or of a material nature – he has successfully brought them all together into a unified system.

As a result, there is only one Hungarian cuisine at the level of high-end restaurants, and its founder was Károly Gundel (1883–1956). The question is what we should do with this legacy.

The story begins with János Gundel, Károly’s father, who seemed to have known that one fine day a lively young man from Debrecen would turn up on Király Street, Gyula Krúdy, who would publish his writings in the capital’s newspapers and become a very frequent guest at the Gundel restaurants. And so János Gundel, the founder, rapidly and resolutely expanded the number of his restaurants. In the 1870s, he opened a restaurant called Virágbokor on what is now József Nádor Square. By then, he already owned the Bécsi Sörház on Király Street, and he subsequently purchased the legendary Queen Elizabeth Hotel as well, which he immediately let out, whilst keeping a watchful eye on its operations.

Gyula Krúdy even chose his first wife – a youthful indiscretion – from Király Street. The Vienna Beer House served its beer at number 40 Király Street, and the young bohemian, a professional drunkard, married the writer known by the pseudonym Satanella – who lived in the house opposite at number 47 – a year before the turn of the century. It is perhaps no coincidence that Krúdy’s epoch-making masterpiece, the In my carefree youth is set in the beer hall on Király Street, which is named after the city of Vienna.

By then, János Gundel was already the tenant of the Prince István Hotel, a highly respected citizen of Budapest, the father of five children, and a holder of the Knight’s Cross of the Order of Franz Joseph. After his death, his son Károly followed in his footsteps on the culinary stage. The real race had only just begun. Károly, the third son, developed a deep interest in gastronomy; perhaps the era itself favoured this interest; in any case, it is a fact that at a very young age he became acquainted with the trade as a market buyer for the restaurant at the Archduke István Hotel, overseeing, as it happened, the most sensitive area. From there, a dazzling career unfolded.

GUNDEL

Gundel in Városliget is not just a restaurant or a well-known figure, but an institution in its own right. Károly Gundel ran several restaurants in the capital. He won the right to run the restaurant at the Gellért Hotel in a competitive tender, paying a huge annual commission on turnover to the capital city. Károly Gundel argued very persuasively that he could triple the restaurant’s turnover at lower prices without compromising on quality. In fact, he laid the foundations of modern hospitality from the 1920s onwards. And this was not merely a business innovation, but the conscious utilisation of the advantages arising from the coordination of logistics, raw materials, staff and recipes – benefits derived from operating several restaurants simultaneously.

The international and domestic success of the Gellért Hotel’s restaurant would not have been possible without the operation of the large restaurant in City Park. It was this Gundel flagship that enabled the company to gain unquestionable prestige in the hospitality industry, a reputation that was accompanied by significant commercial success.

One of Gundel’s great secrets was that, whilst running a modern, industrial-scale operation that was ahead of its time, he was able to bring his charming personality – and indeed his entire family – into the business, thereby creating a unique, family-oriented establishment that appealed to everyone.

It was Károly Gundel who modernised the home-style dishes known as ‘Magyar’; every well-known dish today that forms part of Hungarian gastronomic culture bears Gundel’s mark in one way or another. This is due, on the one hand, to his exceptional gastronomic talent and, on the other, to his international experience: his knowledge of French gastronomy and modern technology enabled him to create dishes that were in keeping with the times and could be produced to a consistently high standard in a restaurant setting, whilst still being familiar and home-cooked feel, whilst at the same time ensuring that Hungarian characteristics are preserved.

Károly Gundel, the founder of modern Hungarian cuisine

When he took over the Wampetics restaurant in Liget, 27-year-old Károly Gundel had his work cut out for him, as Wampetics was already a household name by then. The transition was not without its challenges; Gundel had to prove that he was capable of creating a better, more modern restaurant. Pál Relle wrote in his memoirs in the newspaper *Világ*:

The majestic Budapest palate, steeped in the mouth-watering traditions of fine flavours and aromas, could scarcely bring itself to accept that a young man would come along who, having seized the supreme power of whetting the appetite, would seek to force them so that from now on they would no longer go to the Wampetics, but – the very mention of which is an affront to common sense – to the Gundel.

Those „people from Pest” certainly soon took to the Gundel, which was essentially a huge garden restaurant next to the Zoo, with three rooms where they could entertain guests even in winter.

Pál Relle writes:

Károly Gundel set to work with great determination: by modernising the garden and restaurant facilities, and by overhauling the menu, the service and the entire kitchen system, he overcame all the outdated practices in the dining experience.

Károly Gundel was tireless; he personally selected the meat and poultry at the market, whilst his own vegetable garden, wine cellar and mushroom cellar ensured that his dishes were prepared using only the very best quality ingredients

If there is one thing in Budapest that is perfectly and unquestionably European, it is the table set by Károly Gundel, which he graces with the finest dishes. Good taste, ingenuity and respect for the guest – these are all qualities that, in this country, Károly Gundel truly possesses to the highest degree.

– This is what was written about his work in the *Fővárosi Hírlap* in October 1935.

The operation of the restaurants at the Gellért and Royal hotels was not necessarily down to business acumen, but rather to the fact that the City Park restaurant initially started out as a highly seasonal venture, serving several thousand meals a day in its vast outdoor dining area, but in winter, takings plummeted due to a lack of indoor seating, as the capacity of the three dining rooms was considerably smaller. In order to retain its large staff throughout the year, it needed other restaurants, and Gellért’s kitchen also served as a workshop for experimentation and innovation.

According to the anecdote, Endre Nagy – the uncrowned king and founder of the Budapest cabaret scene – established the „rain guests” sect. The story goes that, God forbid, if it were to rain on a Sunday – which is a curse for any innkeeper, as even if the finest dishes are simmering away in the kitchen, there’s no one to enjoy them, Endre Nagy and his friends, the ’rain guests„, would turn up and, defying the inclement weather, tuck into huge portions.

Almost all of our favourite dishes known today are Gundel creations: one of them is the Palóc soup, which is not merely a well-composed soup, but also romantic proof of how the Gundel ethos has been passed down from generation to generation. After all, that soup was created by Károly Gundel’s father, János Gundel, a restaurateur, especially to please the palate of Kálmán Mikszáth, the great Palóc. According to the original recipe, it is prepared as follows:

Fry finely chopped red onion in hot fat until translucent, then remove from the heat and sprinkle with red paprika. Mix well, then add the lamb shanks, cut into small cubes (1×1 cm), and return to the heat. Season with salt and bay leaves, then simmer, covered, basting with a little stock made from the lamb bones. When the meat is half-tender, add garlic, crushed with caraway seeds until smooth. Meanwhile, cook diced potatoes, cut to the same size as the meat, in lightly salted water until tender. Cook the tender green beans, cut into 2-centimetre pieces, in the same way. When the meat is completely tender, add the potatoes and green beans along with their cooking liquid. Add enough stock to achieve the consistency of goulash. Bring to the boil, thicken with a mixture of sour cream and water, then simmer until done and serve. When serving, sprinkle the top with chopped fresh dill and serve with tarragon vinegar on the side for seasoning.

Károly Gundel instinctively knew that, however good and tasty a dish might be, it would only be truly interesting to the public if there was a story behind it. Indeed, personification is the most effective method. This is probably why Gundel always paid such close attention to the celebrities, writers, actors and artists who visited his restaurants, and created his dishes to suit their tastes and preferences; later, these dishes would appear on the menu either as a special recommendation for that particular person or bearing their name.

Whilst this proved to be the most effective marketing tool, it also served as a constant source of inspiration for him. On the other hand, it also embodied a symbiosis that could be described as family-like. Gundel and its guests, whoever they may be, belong to one family. And he managed to extend this to the average guest as well, without making anyone feel that they were more important than anyone else. Everyone is equally important. Even an employee on a modest wage, or even a servant, could dine in the City Park garden restaurant; they were sure to find something they could afford. And as one ventured further into the garden, towards the covered areas, the wallets grew thicker. Every celebrity of any note in those days passed through here.

Károly Gundel always sought to explore Hungarian flavours, drawing on French culinary traditions: his name is associated with numerous innovations and the creation of original dishes. The Csekonics salad, for example, takes its name from Baron Csekonics, a leading figure in Hungarian horse breeding. It consists of iceberg lettuce with strips of chicken breast and fried prawns, served with an exciting tarragon dressing. Equally famous is the Gundel salad, whose key ingredients are green beans, white asparagus and steamed mushrooms, served in salad boats.

Leafing through Gundel’s cookbook, we find numerous variations on goulash. There are versions from the Great Plain, Szeged, Serbia, the Csángó people, Cluj-Napoca and Likócsi. It may contain beans or mutton; there is even a „bandit” goulash. He was particularly fond of linking his various creations to great figures from Hungarian history, which is how we got ‘Munkácsy-style’ jellied eggs or ‘Hadik-style’ beaten eggs. The Esterházy roast is another such creation. There is also a dish named after Árpád Feszty: ‘bifsztek’ à la Feszty. He dedicated dishes to great chefs too, such as the Csáky roast and Kedvessy venison cutlets. The Széchenyi-style stuffed pheasant also came about as a result of this tradition of naming dishes after notable figures.

We also have him to thank for one of the most iconic dishes of Hungarian cuisine, chicken paprikash, in its present form, served with „light, flaky dumplings”. These are not made using a nokedli cutter, but by scooping lightly mixed dough with a spoon, dropping it into boiling salted water, and then tossing it in hot lard mixed with sour cream.

Gundel deliberately developed this practice of naming dishes, which transcends boundaries and spans historical eras. His aim was to bring together existing but unsystematised Hungarian traditions, not only on a scholarly basis but also on an emotional one. It is not enough for the dishes to be of impeccable quality; they must have a story behind them, and the diner must feel that they are part of a great, ongoing tradition. Nurturing and preserving this remains an integral part of any evolving gastronomy to this day.

As a result of the ever-increasing growth in tourism – a trend of which he himself was the driving force – the culinary excellence of Gundel’s restaurants was widely acclaimed abroad. It was through his work that the rest of the world became acquainted with Hungarian flavours. It was proven that gastronomic diplomacy is often far more effective than the diplomacy practised by professional politicians. Cook, the largest international travel agency of the time with a global network, threw its full weight behind the restaurants run by Gundel. They held his work in high regard and saw it as a guarantee of quality.

AS WELL AS HIS DAILY WORK, KÁROLY GUNDEL WROTE COUNTLESS TEXTBOOKS AND COOKBOOKS; SOME OF HIS WORKS WERE AIMED AT THE ELITE OF THE PROFESSION, whilst others were aimed at housewives,

Gundel worked from the crack of dawn until late in the evening; his attention spanned everything, he saw through everything and kept everything under control. In the mornings, he would select the fresh vegetables at the market himself. He also carefully controlled the source and type of meat supplied to his restaurants: he owned his own pig farms, but also ran market gardens, mushroom farms and greenhouses. He rented a wine cellar in Budafok, and his own wines bore the Gundel label. The Gundel name has undoubtedly become legendary, yet for him it was never about brand-building; rather, it was about passionately embodying talent, humility and an immeasurable capacity for hard work.

We owe him, if only indirectly, the Gundel pancake. (Sándor Márai's wife, Lola, was a specialist in the nutty, rum-flavoured, bitter chocolate sweet, but the name of the dish, initially called Márai pancakes, had to be changed after the writer's emigration.)

In 1939, the Gundel Restaurant became the official restaurant of the Hungarian Pavilion at the New York World's Fair.

There are still a few restaurants in Europe where one can enjoy an excellent meal for a fair price, but the great gourmet establishments of yesteryear have now disappeared, as has the European restaurateur who elevated his craft to an art form by creating new dishes and reinventing old ones. One of the last representatives of this art form is 65-year-old Károly Gundel

 – as was later reported in the pages of *The New Yorker*.

Károly Gundel was interested in every region and every tradition. As he himself writes: „Take a cuisine whose great-great-grandfather was from the Caucasus, whose great-grandfather was Italian, whose grandfather was Turkish, whose brother-in-law was Austrian, and whose uncle was French. Now find a people who have a good palate, a refined sense of taste, and, moreover, a flair and a passion for cooking.”

It is particularly worth broadening the boundaries of our interpretation of modern Hungarian cuisine when it comes to the forebears of our kitchen. The best approach is to revive the Gundel tradition by adapting it to the present day; that is how we remain true to it. He himself would do just that if he were here amongst us, for that is precisely what he did in his own time. It is not so much the Gundel recipes themselves that we need to master, but rather the Gundel mindset.

The Gundel Grand Restaurant must be restored to its rightful place, stripped of its aura of false luxury and snobbish aloofness. Gundel belongs to everyone. This is not just an empty phrase, but the very essence of Gundel. Whilst Gundel was alive, this was the case. Gundel’s cuisine erased class distinctions, without calling the existing social hierarchy into question. Whilst you are at Gundel, it doesn’t matter where you come from, how much money you have, or what titles you hold; only one thing matters: that you enjoy yourself. here you’ll find the dish that suits you, one that matches your taste and your budget, without compromising on quality. Because what is a grand restaurant all about, if not equality? About different tastes coexisting side by side.