Travelling recently through Tyrol, Vienna and Russia, I was struck by how often Goulash appeared on menus. Whether called Gulyás in Hungary or Gulasch in Austria and Trieste, this deeply comforting dish clearly travelled widely through the former Austro-Hungarian Empire, adapting to local tastes and traditions along the way.

Curious once again about its origins, I returned to one of my favourite cookbooks on Hungarian cuisine — Cuisine of Hungary by George Lang — still one of the most detailed and informative books I own on the subject.
Gulasch in Trieste
— for many years. As a child living in Trieste, I grew up with the strong culinary influences of Central Europe. Trieste was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire until the end of the First World War, and many dishes from that period remain firmly embedded in the city’s cuisine.
Triestian Gulasch is usually made simply with beef, onions and paprika. The onions and meat are slowly browned in lard and olive oil, but bacon is generally not used. Unlike many northern European versions, Triestian recipes rarely include potatoes, peppers or additional vegetables, and they are never thickened with flour.
Some cooks add caraway seeds or a little tomato paste, but red wine is not traditional.
My Version of Gulasch
Like many home cooks, I have gradually adapted the dish over time.
I almost always cook with wine and have always added red wine to my Gulasch. Perhaps this came from my mother’s cooking; it is something I have never questioned. I also rely heavily on herbs in my kitchen, so bay leaves naturally find their way into the pot. And because I enjoy a little complexity in flavour, I use both sweet and hot paprika.
I do not add potatoes directly to the stew. Instead, I prefer to serve them separately — perhaps as patate in teccia or creamy mashed potatoes enriched with milk and butter.
More often though, I serve Gulasch with polenta, one of the great accompaniments of Triestian cooking.
In Tyrol I was also served Goulash with braised red cabbage, which worked beautifully.

I do not add potatoes to the braise and prefer to present then separately, either Patate in teccia or creamy mashed potatoes with lashings of milk and butter. However, I am more likely to present it with Polenta, a favourite accompaniment in the cooking of Trieste.

What Makes a “True” Hungarian Gulyás?
According to George Lang, a true Hungarian gulyás should contain no spice other than paprika and caraway seeds.
He insists that lard, bacon and onions are essential and famously warns:
“Never use flour. Never Frenchify it with wine. Never Germanize it with brown sauce.”
Traditionally, the only additions should be potatoes or galuska (small dumplings).
But, as with all traditional dishes, variations exist from household to household and region to region. Some cooks add tomatoes or tomato paste, garlic, green peppers or hot cherry peppers for extra heat.
That flexibility is part of the reason why this dish survived across borders and cultures.
George Lang’s Kettle Gulyás Recipe
This recipe Kettle Gulyás comes from “The Cuisine of Hungary” by George Lang (Penguin Books, 1971)
Ingredients
- 2 tablespoons lard (or vegetable oil)
- 2 medium onions, coarsely chopped
- 1.1 kg beef chuck or round, cut into cubes
- 225 g beef heart (optional), cubed
- 1 garlic clove
- Pinch of caraway seeds
- Salt
- 2 tablespoons paprika
- 1 ripe tomato
- 2 green frying peppers or Italian peppers
- 450 g potatoes
Method
Peel and roughly chop the onions.
Heat the lard in a large heavy pot or Dutch oven. Brown the beef cubes in batches, taking care not to overcrowd the pan. Remove the meat as it browns.
Add the onions and cook gently over low heat until glossy rather than browned.

Return the beef to the pot.

Crush the garlic, caraway seeds and a little salt together using the flat side of a knife.
Remove the pot briefly from the heat. Stir in the paprika and garlic mixture quickly with a wooden spoon, then immediately add warm water. George Lang warns against adding cold water at this stage because it can toughen the meat.
Cover and simmer slowly for about one hour.
Meanwhile, peel and chop the tomato, slice the peppers into rings and dice the potatoes.
After the meat has braised for an hour, add the tomato, peppers and enough water to create a soup-like consistency. Season lightly with salt and continue simmering for another 30 minutes.
Add the potatoes and cook until tender. Adjust seasoning and add hot cherry peppers if you prefer a spicier version.
Food, Memory and Empire
What fascinates me most about Goulash and Gulasch is not simply the recipe itself, but the way food travels across borders and becomes absorbed into local identity.
A Hungarian shepherd’s dish became part of the everyday cooking of Trieste, Vienna and much of Central Europe. Each place adapted it slightly, yet the essential character remained — slow-cooked meat, onions, paprika and warmth.
These are the dishes that tell stories of migration, empire, trade and memory.
And perhaps that is why I continue to cook Gulasch after all these years.

For my recipe of Gulasch, as cooked in Trieste see:
GULASCH (Goulash, as made in Trieste)






