Erzsébet Etl was laughing on the phone as we discussed lecsó (leh-tcho), the beloved pepper stew of her native Hungary. A Hungarian language teacher who lives in Reston, Va., Etl didn’t want me to print a compromise she makes if the right peppers aren’t available. “I don’t want to start a lecsó war,” she cautioned, and neither do I. Packed with flavorful peak-season produce, lecsó is, at its core, a simple and delightful dish of lightly simmered peppers, tomatoes and onions. But its preparation and potential variations inspire strongly held beliefs.
Lecso, a Hungarian pepper stew, is a treasured taste of tradition
Active time:50 mins
Total time:1 hour 10 mins
Servings:6 (makes about 10 cups)
My lecsó journey began over a decade ago, when my college housemate Jason returned from a semester abroad in Budapest with a recipe. Lecsó was one of his favorite Hungarian dishes, and it became part of our rotation at school. We both still make it, and photos of peppers populate my texts with Jason each year as summer turns to fall. I learned to make lecsó with red bell peppers, tomatoes and onions, garnished with sour cream and served with bread. I assumed, incorrectly, that this was how everyone made it.
Zsófi Mautner, a Budapest-based food writer and cookbook author, set the record straight. “Lecsó is one of those dishes that everybody makes differently,” she told me. “It’s really a reason for family fights,” she added, “and I mean it literally.” There are several things to fight over: How to slice the peppers (strips vs. rings); the proportion of peppers to tomatoes; whether to use paprika; and whether to treat it as a condiment or a meal in and of itself.
As a side or condiment, the dish usually remains vegetarian (unless cooked in bacon fat). Otherwise, sausage, sliced hot dogs, bacon, sour cream, cabbage, potatoes, mushrooms, beaten eggs, rice, tarhonya (Hungarian egg barley) and nokedli (Hungarian spaetzle) are all popular mix-ins.
In the diaspora, there’s an even more important issue. “The biggest challenge when you do lecsó abroad is the type of pepper,” said Mautner. I asked sheepishly if people in Hungary ever use bell peppers. “Never.” I posed the same question to Steve Szekeres, a Hungarian living in Wayne, Pa., and the father of Jason’s study-abroad friend, Peter. “Forget it,” he said. “It’s not your best choice. At all. Wrong choice.”
In Hungary, lecsó is made exclusively with the pale greenish-yellow peppers known here as Hungarian wax peppers. But in the United States, peppers sold under this name can be quite hot; the variety used in lecsó is always mild. Banana peppers — in their fresh, unpickled form — come close, as do cubanelle peppers. Mautner allowed that bell peppers are an acceptable substitute, but they’re not ideal. “Bell peppers are very sweet, and the Hungarian wax peppers have this more earthy, savory flavor,” Mautner explained.
Szekeres echoed this view. “Lecsó is not supposed to be sweet at all,” he said, adding that bell peppers’ thicker skin is “way too rough on the stomach. No good.”
Peppers hold a special place in Hungarian culinary culture, both in their fresh form and as paprika. Introduced to Hungary by Ottoman occupiers, their use became widespread in the late 19th century thanks to the farming prowess of Bulgarian immigrants. Lecsó emerged around this time, though “it was initially cooked under a totally different name,” said Hungarian cookbook author and food historian András Koerner. “Lecsó only showed up in Hungarian cookbooks in the 1930s,” he added. Today, it’s indispensable to the Hungarian repertoire. “It’s among the top ten signature Hungarian dishes,” Mautner said, “but it’s not an ancient recipe.”
At his Hungarian-accented Brooklyn restaurant Agi’s Counter, chef Jeremy Salamon serves what he calls a “second-generation take on lecsó.” Charred, mixed seasonal peppers are cooked down with shallots, onions and pickled peppers; the mixture is served cascading off a bone-in pork rib chop. “The way that my family made it, it was always just used as a very versatile condiment,” he explained. Versions of lecsó like this are also frequently canned or jarred, and can be found around Europe under alternate spellings like letscho in Germany and leczo in Poland.
Most Hungarians associate lecsó with summer, and while the dish is technically stewed, it’s not meant to simmer on the stove all day. The peppers should still have a little crunch, and freshness of ingredients is emphasized above all else. Preserved versions capture this summery essence, but the most common addition to freshly prepared lecsó is sausage, which changes the vibe. I love to make lecsó in early fall, when peppers and tomatoes are still available in local markets, but the air has enough of a chill that a sausagey stew holds a comforting appeal.
I’ve now stopped using bell peppers, but my version of lecsó is not without its provocations. I like to add tomato paste, to thicken the sauce, and I do not peel the tomatoes, though many Hungarians do. Spaetzle is my favorite foil, but I prefer to serve it on the side rather than fully mixed-in, which would be more traditional. And in addition to sour cream, I like to garnish with a little dill for contrast.
These choices might not sit well with everyone, but I like Salamon’s inclusive approach to the dish. “You do you,” he told me, and I’d encourage any aspiring lecsó-maker to do the same.
Lecso (Hungarian Pepper Stew)
In Hungary, mild, pale yellow peppers known locally as paprika form the basis of this beloved traditional dish. Diaspora cooks are used to making do with similar varieties such as cubanelle, banana peppers and (mild) Hungarian wax peppers. Bell peppers are an acceptable if imperfect substitute; red peppers should be cut with at least some yellow or green peppers to keep the dish from becoming too sweet. Farmers markets should have options that more closely capture the spirit of lecsó; just be sure you know where they sit on the Scoville scale before committing.
Beyond its elemental ingredients — peppers, tomatoes and onions — lecsó is a dish with seemingly infinite variations. Meat, particularly smoked sausage or bacon, is a common addition; a dash of smoked paprika, while not traditional, can allude to this in a vegetarian version. Sour cream and dill are lovely garnishes (but may irk lecsó purists).
Possible accompaniments and mix-ins are as numerous as variations to the dish itself. Crusty bread, rice, spaetzle (or their Hungarian cousins nokedli) and pearl couscous (as a stand-in for Hungarian tarhonya) are all popular. Some like to add beaten eggs toward the end of cooking.
Storage: Refrigerate leftovers for up to 4 days.
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Ingredients
- 1/4 cup neutral oil (see VARIATION)
- 1 1/4 pounds yellow onions (2 medium), halved and sliced
- 1 heaping tablespoon sweet paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika (optional, if not using meat)
- 2 tablespoons tomato paste
- 1 1/2 pounds ripe tomatoes (2 medium), diced large
- 3 pounds cubanelle or bell peppers (12 to 15 cubanelle or 8 to 10 bell), cut into 2- to 3-inch strips
- 1 teaspoon fine salt, plus more to taste
- 12 ounces smoked sausage, such as kielbasa, sliced into rounds or on the bias (optional)
- Sour cream and/or fresh dill, for serving (optional)
In a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat, warm the oil until shimmering. Add the onions, stir to coat in the oil, cover and cook, stirring intermittently, until soft and lightly golden, 8 to 10 minutes.
Add the paprika (both kinds, if not using meat) and tomato paste and cook, stirring, until fully incorporated, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the tomatoes, stirring to deglaze the browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Cook until the tomatoes begin to release their juices, 2 to 3 minutes.
Add the peppers and salt, and stir to incorporate. Decrease the heat to medium-low, cover and cook until the peppers have reduced and softened, stirring every 5 minutes, about 20 minutes.
Add the kielbasa, if using, and cook until the peppers are soft but retain a bit of bite, about 10 more minutes. Taste, and season with more salt, if desired, then remove from the heat. Ladle into bowls, top with a dollop of sour cream and/or a little dill, if desired, and serve.
VARIATION: For added flavor, you can cook the vegetables in rendered bacon fat instead of oil. Cook 4 ounces of chopped bacon until the fat is rendered, 5 to 7 minutes. Then, proceed with the rest of the recipe, using the rendered bacon fat in place of oil.
Nutrition Information
Per serving, with kielbasa (about 1 2/3 cups)
Calories: 365; Total Fat: 26 g; Saturated Fat: 6 g; Cholesterol: mg; Sodium: 39 mg; Carbohydrates: 27 g; Dietary Fiber: 7 g; Sugar: 14 g; Protein: 11 g
This analysis is an estimate based on available ingredients and this preparation. It should not substitute for a dietitian’s or nutritionist’s advice.
From New York City-based food writer Luke Pyenson.
Tested by Jim Webster; email questions to voraciously@washpost.com.
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Source: WP
