Hungarican Chicken Paprikash

Naturally, living in a Hungarican household influenced by 18 years in Belgium, our menu repertoire is pretty broad and international.  One of the family staples, and one of my childhood favourites was Chicken Paprikash, a Hungarian dish that is both delicious and comforting.  It has now become one of my husband's favourites.

Everyone makes it a little bit differently, but it is ultimately a very simple dish and can be tweaked here and there to suit individual tastes. Here's how we Hungaricans make it:

Start with a very simple group of ingredients. You will need:

1 plump whole chicken

2 large yellow onions

2-3 cloves of garlic

2 HEAPING tablespoons sweet Hungarian paprika (or more)

2 tablespoons of flour

2 cups water or chicken stock

Salt

Pepper

Rice, egg noodles or spaetzle 

Shall we begin?

You should always add salt an pepper in 'layers'
while you are cooking. S & P each 'stage' and your
meal will be well-seasoned.  Anyway, I digress....

It is a bit cheaper to buy a whole chicken and to
quarter it yourself. It's not too hard. I will post a
video someday of how to do it simply.

...or more.

Just toss the flour in dry and stir it in.

Chicken stock makes the sauce all the richer, but
water works just fine and it's what I use on the most
part.

By the time you add the water, the bottom of the pot
will be crusted in a flavourful 'sediment'. Adding liquid
will deglaze it and add the distintive flavour to the sauce
(much like the Borg assimilating a species).

Tend to fussy baby

My mom always left it in, and it's not tragic if you do,
but if you are trying to minimize calories, taking it out
is a good idea. It will however take some of your
flavour.

I had to take from 2 containers.

This thickens the sauce.

Some people remove the skin and debone the chicken, shredding the meat into the sauce. I don't do that very often. I also have a brother who adds green pepper to the sauce, sliced mushrooms can also be good.  I serve it pretty often over rice, but egg noodles work and the real dish in Hungary is often served over spaetzle. I like rice because it really sorbs up the sauce, which I would drink from the pot if I could get away with it.  

Enjoy!

Deceleration

 My life is changing.  Every bit of it. From the sudden absence of an environment that has been the norm for seven years; my old job, to the stream of creative energy, which has been dampened (but not dead) since I got pregnant.  It's okay, change is good. Change is inevitable, and I will adapt. The things I love are not vanished but they are ... paused.

I'm home. Almost always, and that's okay. With a new(ish) baby (7 weeks old yesterday), you retrench, and you are beholden to him.  I am where he needs me to be. Prepared to feed him when he cries out in hunger, prepared to change him when he protests his state of being, and always there to cuddle and love on this precious little life form that came from us.

Christmas is come and gone. We had a sprinkling of snow just to make it whimsical. But it didn't stay long. Today there were only a few blobs of snow here and there, and there were none on our little promenade. We took a walk around our 'block', and explored a dead-end street where this path led into a vacant property that was overgrown with mossy, drapey, lush and green life.  We had to turn back when the path was blocked by not just one, but two fallen trees.  Since we were pushing Baby J in the stroller, we could not go on.

We never get tired of filling up our phone galleries with pictures like this.  Baby J is always quite disposed to providing us with pose after pose, baby versions of the Blue Steel and Magnum. Teehee.  His sweetness comes with a thousand faces. Now that he's started smiling, now it's a race to capture that. It is beyond adorable.

Like I said before, even the bluster and sourness of the great Satan herself has been cowed by his charms.  She spends most of the time showing the baby off to every senior in residence; and she won't let anyone hold him. Hell, she barely even allows great Grandma Georgia to hold him.  When she does, she hovers, like a fussy nursemaid, worrying that Grandma might not be holding him correctly. She takes every chance she can to snatch the child out of her arms. The selfishness is still there, but at least she isn't a bloody monster. She is actually tolerable to be around.

My husband took this picture today.  His desk is on the other side of the sofa bend, so I propped the little one up there so he could spy on his father who was at his computer.  I'm sitting there behind him with my hand on his bum, holding him there.  The boy was curious about the phone as my husband snapped this picture.  Mr. Crankypants has good days and bad days. Today was a good day. Good mood, lots of cooing and smiling and kicking of the legs.

One of my favourite images. Dan is cuddling Baby J.  I do love these boys with all of my soul.

Some sleepy-cuddly peaceful cuteness.

Incidentally, I am choosing to actually participate in a Month of Letters this year. Last year, I just wasn't able to. I am home now, I am in possession of quills, ink, wax seals and paper, so why not.  I encourage you to participate. I decided to do this the old school way, but there are no rules, really.  Click the image to the main page and sign up. You can find pen pals from all over the world to write to and receive correspondence from.  Keep the art of real letter-writing alive and join in. :)

[Update: Woops! Forgot to put link on the image. Shame on me!]

I am determined to do something creative this week. I will keep you all apprised if I do, since everything has slowed down to accommodate the new arrival.  I'm hoping there will be some slip back to normality at some point.  Every day he coalesces more and more into a whole person. His behaviour is less instinctive and more social.  Alexander is the center of my universe. Hopefully in time, he'd be willing to share. Reading Alicia Paulson's blog, I have no idea how she finds time to do anything.

I had to bid goodbye to someone very dear to me today, but do so quietly from a distance. My sweet horse, who my sister was caring for up until recently, has been sent to a new home.  My sister offered to take him when I discovered I was pregnant. Rather than have to lose him, it was a chance for us to retrench and figure things out. But circumstances changed, and my sister informed me that she couldn't keep him anymore, and that she needed to get rid of him and of her own horses, leaving me little opportunity to come up with options. So she re-homed him.  I can't say I'm not broken hearted, because I am. I am devastated, but I don't have time to wallow in self-pity.  The whole thing is something I dreaded but something I kind of expected.  But I am also relieved.  When the time comes when we are solvent enough to afford it and when my time isn't consumed by this little baby of ours, I will find another horse to love--and hopefully a better situation to keep him/her in.  But I will miss Tag.  Dearly.

Farewell big boy.

Warmest Holiday Wishes To All

We never did things like this in my family. Time to create some new traditions.  This is from Macy's downtown Portland. What an awesome Santa. :)  I misted up. I admit it.

Transitioning into motherhood

We are chillin'

In my twenties, I didn't think I’d ever want kids. I think after a childhood of seeing the perils of dysfunctional family, one grows into one’s youth filled with the sense that you too are going to repeat those mistakes.  But as my thirties dawned, all of a sudden, my priorities changed.  Now, I’m sitting here, with a small baby drifting off to sleep against my leg, after a night of cluster-feeding and crying, and realizing that no matter how difficult it is, I can cope.  I can look at Baby J’s bright little eyes and see what this is all for.  My fears of postpartum depression were unfounded. The anti-depressants prescribed to me just in case were unnecessary.

Baby J turned one month old yesterday. It doesn't feel like a month. That doesn't mean it’s been free sailing, Baby J is a bit of a Crankasaurus Rex.  His pediatrician, Dr. White, a guy who looks far too young to be a doctor, but who has a magic touch with babies, described this first period to me as ‘the fourth trimester’.  “By the size of his hips in proportion to his head, this baby, all babies are technically underdeveloped compared to babies of other species. In all truth, this baby should be gestated another three months. So understanding this, imagine that this child is really not ready for all of this…” he said, twirling his finger around to indicate the world of buzzing fluorescent lights and sirens blaring outside.  The first three months are going to be hard. And having a baby that is inordinately cranky means a little extra work.  Baby J’s most taxing issue is the cluster-feeding. What that means is he wants to eat frequently in spurts.  He’ll do all-night marathons of forty minute to one-minute apart feedings. I’m not getting a lot of sleep, which is par for the course for new parents—especially when breast feeding.

I have learned a great deal in trial by fire.  Here are a few lessons for new parents:

The Hospital – what you *really* need

For You:

I packed a couple of nightgowns, a robe, my slippers, some ‘sacrificial’ underwear, a bathroom kit and my Nook (and knitting for some odd reason).  What I really needed to bring? Maybe a robe and slippers would have sufficed. I never touched my reading or the knitting—it was a testament to my delusion. I thought I’d pop out a baby, and be larking about on my tippie toes cradling my baby in one arm and toting Mary Robinette Kowal’s latest book in the other while birds and forest creatures danced around me. LOL. Okay, I wasn't that deluded but I just didn't have any idea what to expect once the baby arrived. These are not the days of a big room full of babies where they stay most of the time while mom convalesces anymore. Now babies stay in the room with mom, and the nurses only take the baby to the nursery upon request for a maximum of three hours per day respite—something I never ended up taking advantage of because I figured it wasn't reality and I wouldn't get that option at home.

Auntie loves Alex

The nightgowns, which I picked specifically for their button-down fronts served mostly to make me feel comfortable in my own skin (let’s be real, those hospital gowns, practical as they may be, are not exactly pleasant to wear). The nightgowns I had also kind of made me look like a haggard Laura Ingalls.  But in all truth, the ‘net’ underwear the hospital provided were what I used, I never took out my own undies during my stay, and since I had to stay at the hospital longer for the unexpected Caesarean, two nightgowns wasn't enough—so I ended up using their maternity hospital gowns to supplement when my clean gowns ran out.

Giving birth is a messy business, and the hospital is well-equipped to provide for clean stuff if you don’t feel like having a gown for each day. The net panties can be tossed and do the job they’re designed for.

Bring soap and shampoo and the like too. Nothing feels better than a nice hot shower after all the ordeal of birth, surgery and all the trappings (catheter, tape, IVs, etc). As soon as they loosed me from that stuff, I was up and about, much to the nurses’ surprise—apparently most moms don’t get out of bed very quickly. I just wanted a god damned shower and it’s the first thing I did as soon as they gave me the okay.

The Baby:

You could walk into a hospital with nothing and be okay. Hospitals provide a good deal of support to new moms.  The moment you pop out the baby, he or she will have what they need regardless of what you tote into the hospital. The baby is diapered and swaddled, and given one of those cute little caps for their head. They provide wipes and diapers for the duration, and not only that, they send you home with a bunch of them. Since we opted to use gDiapers, we don’t use regular diapering products but what the hospital sent home with us is wonderful for emergency backup. I keep a packet in the diaper bag if Baby J happens to soil both of the g-Pants on an outing.

Since I chose to breastfeed, we didn't get any special bottle/formula support, but I’m pretty sure the hospital will help with that too.

My message is this, ultimately: Don’t panic.  Don’t go nuts.  You could show up at the hospital with your purse and that’s it, and you’d be okay, and the hospital would provide enough to give you a few days’ running start if you need it. So never fear.

Mom in law swoons

As for home… you don’t need a baby room for at least three months. We haven’t finished the baby room yet, and that’s fine. The bassinet (which we hardly use) is the only necessary purchase. We ended up getting a ‘Snuggle Nest’ because Baby J is happier closer to me, so we have a bed that fits on our bed where he sleeps between us. I know. I’m a sucker.

We actually change him on our sideboard in the dining room. LOL.  It works for now.  ::shrug:: Meh. 

I spend most of my days in my pajamas, and I feel like more of the time is spent with one of my boobs out and a baby latched onto it than not. Hehheh.

Being a mom so far is something I never could even begin to imagine or adequately describe.  All I can say is that no matter how tired, haggard and grumpy I am, one look at Baby J’s face is enough to send me into melting puddles of love.  This bright-eyed, alert, demanding little bugger has become the center of my world. I feel empty if he’s not near me. I live for the moments when he’s sprawled out on my belly, so relaxed his usually bunched-up froggy legs are stretched out and draped on me. I love to hold him against my chest when he’s just a little ball. This tiny (now 7lb 4oz) baby is so f*#%ing precious, it’s impossible to communicate the way I feel.  I sat him on my lap yesterday and he bent his head back to look up at me, and I nearly died from the cute.

He’s cranky. He’s beautiful. He’s precious. His feet are a freakin’ work of art they’re so damned adorable. I’m wholly, and utterly besotted. The mom-chemistry is raging inside me, and I’ve become one of those irritating people that can’t resist posting pictures of their baby constantly on Facebook, and talking incessantly about him. 

Even Satan is in love.

I still have to get a handle on my potty-mouth, but I have a bit of time to reprogram myself so my child doesn’t grow up cursing like a sailor.  And what’s more?  Baby J has brought out the best of everyone, including Satan.  My mother is utterly in love. The usually-child-hating cantankerous black hole of negativity has vanished (on the most part) and has been replaced by a gushing, fussing grandma that just can’t get enough of Baby J.  We stopped by the assisted living facility on our way home from the hospital with Baby J to introduce him to grandma and great grandma, and they were fighting over him.  LOL.

My world is irrevocably changed—but kind of not because of this new addition.  He has sort of fallen into his place in our household, and we both find ourselves looking at this tiny itty-bitty human being in wonder. We have a child! There’s a baby here, sitting on me. Where’d he come from?  Who is he going to be? Who knows? All I know is that every little coo and grunt he makes (even his baby pterodactyl noises) are precious to me.  Hell, even his little apple-sized butt is freaking adorable.

I’m a mom. Holy shit! Be afraid.

Alexander arrives. November 17, 2012

A proud papa.

After 36 hours of labour that did nothing to dilate my cervix,
my doctor decided that Baby J was too stressed, and the amniotic
fluids were too low, so she made the call. C-section in half-an-hour.

We went into surgery at 9. Baby J was born at 9:08 AM.

My sister Helen cannot keep from crying because Baby J
looks remarkably like our father.

Auntie Jessica and Cousin Baxten.

Thanks S2 for these precious pictures.

6 pounds, 6 ounces.