Budapest - Even Nicer Than Prague?

Budapest has been "second city" too long; playing second fiddle to Prague, "The Paris of Eastern Europe". Don't get me wrong -- I love Prague -- but I like Budapest just as well.

Perhaps the reason is that I saw the city through Marta Andressi's eyes. Marta is the head concierge at the Four Seasons Hotel in Budapest, and she is a force of nature. Has passion for Budapest and profound knowledge of the city and its nooks and crannies is infectious. Thanks to her and her amazing colleague, Zoltan, nothing was impossible, from a comfortable visit to the Danube bend with its charming villages, cathedrals and tourist traps, to buying Liat a fabulous, Polish made wool coat that you can only get in one of those villages AFTER we left it. Zoltan made the coat appear by asking the proprietor to come to us, instead of us coming to him. So now Liat will be warm in the Chicago winter, and I have another amazing concierge story to tell.

Marta and Zoltan were also right on the mark with respect to food, which, of course, is a critical element to any great vacation. We enjoyed fantastic pastries on the Buda hills (both the cheese and poppy seed strudels are inimitable), but also went to the local pastry shop, where an eternally long line waits among the enticing fragrance of baking pastries. I, who abhors lines, waited to buy my 15 cakes (im)patiently, and it was well worth the wait as Dick and I devoured them with Melange (the perfect latte, Budapest-style, with much more milk and only a tinge of coffee than the Starbucks kind).

We also loved the restaurants. Our favorite, Kafe Kor, is an extremely casual place that takes its food seriously. Anything from the lecso (pronounced lecho), the quintessentially Hungarian pepper and onion dish which I have loved since my friendship with Malka and her mother in Jerusalem 30 years ago, to the stuffed cabbage, garlicky turkey or chicken paprikash, was fabulous: tasty, well seasoned and not-too-heavy.

Budapest is not all about food, though. The walking street offers quaint shopping (the box with the secret opening trick was a huge hit among Arik and his friends), and overall this walk-able city has a charm that is difficult to describe. I loved strolling in the Castle District and climbing the countless steps to get there instead of taking the funicular (it makes me feel macho). I was touched immeasurably by reading the words written on the wall of an ancient synagogue 1300 years ago, reciting the blessing that my father had given me every Yom Kippur during his life, and his father before him. Both Dick and I appreciated the Hungarian art, both paintings and sculpture that permeates the city. But the "must see" for us was not the parliament and its crown jewels (3 jewels, to be exact). It was the Museum of Terror, again Marta's recommendation.

The museum is a plain, harsh and unforgiving place. Its primary exhibits are movies shot by the Nazis during their occupation of Hungary and by the Soviets during the USSR rule. There isn't much else to see there, but that was more than enough. No "Schindler's List" or "Saving Private Ryan" can depict the horror piercing people's eyes as they were filmed for posterity by their tormentors. No words will do it justice. And it is an experience that every person should have.

Visiting Budapest was a rich experience for us on all fronts. I hope you'll be able to enjoy the city and its treasures yourself some day. If not, check out my recipe for Chicken Paprikas and, at least, get a taste of its many pleasures.