The Goulash Cure: Recipe for a Remarkably Soothing Soup

The Goulash Cure: Recipe for a Remarkably Soothing Soup

In the beer halls of Munich, they’ve come up with a great antidote to anxiety: meaty, paprika-spiced goulash soup. Upon publication of the 50th anniversary edition of ‘The German Cookbook,’ author Mimi Sheraton shares the story behind her affection for this dish, and a classic recipe

By Mimi Sheraton in the Wall Street Journal

I RECOGNIZED THAT goulash was comfort food long before it comforted me. In the mid-1960s, doing research on German food in Munich, I learned that the local version, soupier than Hungary’s paprika-bright stew, is typically served as a restorative and a hangover preventative at the end of a night of carousing. Gulyassuppe (goulash soup) can be found all over the city but is especially prevalent in the stubes and brauhauses in the student section of Schwabing, close to the University of Munich.

It was only a few years later, when a near-tragedy took me back to that beautiful old Bavarian town for three weeks, that I came to truly understand the soup’s sustaining powers. My husband, Richard Falcone, a ski importer, was on a business trip to Munich when his appendix ruptured, leading to a prolonged stay in what I came to describe to cabdrivers as “das Krankenhaus auf Nussbaumstrasse,” the hospital on Nut Tree Street.

Fortunately I had two friends in Munich who helped as best they could, picking me up at the hospital around 10 or 11 each night. Invariably I’d have skipped dinner and would be longing for a hot shower and a warm bed. But my friends always insisted I eat something. Many good restaurants with serious food stayed open late into the night, but complex preparations and elaborate service were too tiring for me to deal with during that difficult period. Goulash soup turned out to be the answer: easy-to-eat spoon food that was also remarkably soothing and appealing.

I ate goulash soup all over Schwabing during those three long weeks. One night we’d visit the soaring rooms of the Gothic-style Ratskeller; another, the beery, boisterous Hofbräuhaus, or the friendly, spare Zum Spöckmeier. A particular favorite was Beim Sedlmayr on the edge of the Viktualienmarkt, the lavish morning food market. Thus did I begin to appreciate what a bowl of the steaming, vermilion soup could really do to alleviate depression and nervous fear.

Whatever the venue, I counted on meltingly tender nuggets of beef, softened onions and potatoes, and gentle whiffs of caraway, garlic and marjoram; the best iterations contained both sweet paprika and a restorative dash of hot paprika. In some of these places the soup was served in metal porringers; in others, deep china bowls. Usually and ideally, a big salted pretzel came on the side. The accompanying beverage might be a glass of Munich’s own strong, pale weissbier, or the more standard helles (light) or dunkles (dark), all best ordered en fasse—on tap. My preference, however, was for a frosty, tapered shot glass full of one of the powerfully strong schnappses based on cherries or pears or even raspberries, as in my flowery favorite, himbeergeist. Cutting through the spicy soup, a couple of shots of schnapps were less filling and, for me, more sleep-inducing than a big glass of beer—with all due apologies to Munich, the brewing capital of Germany.

After my husband’s recovery and our return home, goulash soup became a fixture in my kitchen repertoire, usually made in large quantities during cold months, as it freezes well and is just what icy winter weather demands. Through trial and error, I found that the soup works best with soft, slightly fatty cuts of beef such as chuck, neck, shin or the currently popular beef cheeks. The meat should be cut into pieces small enough for spoon-feeding, as should the boiling potatoes. Veal is an acceptable alternative to beef for this soup, though a fairly pricey and less juicy one, and some cooks like to add pork to the beef for flavor.

‘I counted on meltingly tender nuggets of beef and gentle whiffs of caraway, garlic and marjoram.’

Lard, rendered beef fat and bacon fat are all traditional choices for sautéing the onion with the paprika, but I’ve found that a light vegetable oil—sunflower, corn or safflower—or a combination of animal and vegetable fats can be substituted. Those wishing to increase their daily vegetable intake can add finely diced carrots or green peppers, alone or together. For a more nuanced and sophisticated version, flambée ¼ cup of heated brandy over the seared meat and onion mixture before adding the other ingredients.

Find big, freshly made pretzels if you can, or if not, serve the soup with a crusty sourdough roll. Dunking is not only acceptable but encouraged, as you’ll want to sop up every warming drop. Schnapps and beer both make excellent accompaniments, but forget wine: That would be a poseur move with such plebeian fare. The consoling power of this soup, after all, lies in its simplicity.

—Ms. Sheraton is the author of “The German Cookbook,” published this week in a 50th-anniversary edition by Random House.

This is Bavaria’s favorite midnight snack, a local tradition in Munich’s crowded beer halls. The flavor improves greatly if this soup is prepared a day or two before serving. Store covered in the refrigerator, bring to room temperature, then reheat slowly but thoroughly and adjust seasonings before serving.

Active Time: 1 hour Total Time: 2 hours Serves: 4-6

• 2 tablespoons fresh lard, rendered beef fat or bacon fat; or 3 tablespoons light vegetable oil
• 1 large yellow onion, diced
• 1 heaping tablespoon Hungarian sweet paprika
• ½ teaspoon Hungarian hot paprika
• 1 pound beef (chuck, shin, neck or cheeks), cut into 1-inch cubes
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
• ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more to taste
• 2 tablespoons distilled white vinegar or white wine vinegar
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste
• 1 tablespoon caraway seeds
• ½ teaspoon dried marjoram
• 1 clove garlic, crushed
• 3 medium potatoes, peeled and diced

1. Heat fat in a heavy 3-quart saucepan or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onions and sauté until soft and faintly golden, but not brown, about 8 minutes. Lower heat, sprinkle paprikas over onions and sauté, stirring, until paprika loses its raw aroma, 1-2 minutes more.

2. Add beef and stir to coat with paprika-onion mixture. Cook, stirring occasionally, until meat cubes sear and lightly brown, about 8 minutes. Sprinkle with 1 teaspoon salt, ½ teaspoon pepper and vinegar and stir in tomato paste. Simmer over low heat, stirring gently, until mixture is blended, 3-4 minutes.

3. Add caraway seeds, marjoram, garlic and just enough water to cover meat. Increase heat to high and bring to a boil. Decrease heat to medium, cover loosely and simmer gently until meat is almost completely tender, 45-60 minutes. Add diced potatoes and cook slowly until meat and potatoes are completely soft, 20-25 minutes more. Add water as needed to maintain a soupy consistency. Check and adjust seasonings.

4. Serve steaming hot in heated deep bowls, preferably with a big, crusty salted pretzel on the side.