Paprika adds spice to Huntington’s dining options

On the eve of a family vacation, our garage door began

malfunctioning. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the boys’ attempts

to squish a trash can by lowering the door on it.

Realizing we couldn’t leave town with the garage door stuck

partially open, I unselfishly volunteered to stay home alone --

visions of televised sports, uninterrupted naps and greasy takeout

food filled my head -- while the wife and kids trekked to Yosemite.

Karen inexplicably greeted my magnanimous offer with a scowl so

vicious-looking it sent me scurrying across the street in search of

Bob -- my neighbor/friend/handyman. Knowing I’m as mechanically

inclined as Barry Bonds is naturally strong, Bob took pity upon me

and quickly fixed the door.

I insisted Bob let me take him to dinner for his efforts. He

accepted and suggested we go to Paprika.

Paprika? I’d never heard of it.

Neither had Bob until he stumbled upon it during a trip to

PetSmart. Bob went on to explain how Paprika was a new (four months),

tiny (seats ten), no-frills (plastic utensils) place serving -- now

get this -- authentic Hungarian cuisine. Hungarian food? Can anyone

name me a Hungarian dish other than goulash?

Nonetheless, Karen and I accompanied Bob and his wife, Cheryl, to

Paprika for what turned out to be a surprisingly good dinner. After

ordering at the counter and grabbing our sodas and Snapples from the

fridge, we began to feast.

Paprika’s concentrated menu allowed us to try most everything.

I’ve never been a big fan of cabbage, eating it only on fish tacos,

but I really enjoyed their cabbage rolls. A large cabbage leaf is

wrapped around a well-seasoned meat mixture the size of a holiday

cheese log. It comes with plenty of sauerkraut for topping.

The namesake spice is most prevalent in the paprikash entrees --

beef, chicken or mushroom. The beef paprikash, with chunks of beef in

a vigorous, paprika-laced sauce, is reminiscent of beef stroganoff.

It came with a tart cucumber salad and gnocchi-like dumplings.

The chicken paprikash featured two bone-in, skin-on, white-meat

pieces of notably moist chicken dusted with paprika. Operating on the

premise that you can never have too much paprika, we got a side of

paprika-roasted potatoes, as well as pungent mushrooms mixed with

sauteed onions.

Of course, we got the goulash. Paprika’s version of beef goulash

is comparable to a robust beef stew -- with burly chunks of beef,

potato, and carrot swimming in a hearty broth. This goulash will

surely put hair on your chest.

When it comes to Wiener schnitzel, Americans might think “hot

dog,” while in Germany, it’s a veal cutlet. Paprika’s Weiner

schnitzel is actually a humongous chicken cutlet. Paired with parsley

potatoes and a thinly sliced tomato salad, this dish was a winner.

The only entree I was not battling the others for was the roasted

pork loin, which seemed characterless compared to everything else

we’d tried.

For dessert we shared a couple of apricot crepes (only $1.05!)

that were temperately sweet.

Although we dined in, Paprika is equally well suited for take-out.

A crisp fall night would be the perfect time to take home some

warming goulash instead of burritos or sushi for the third time in a

week.

I like Paprika for the same reason I like “My Name Is Earl,” disc

golf and Staropramen lager -- it’s different.

* JOHN VOLO is the Independent restaurant critic. If you have

comments or suggestions, e-mail [email protected].

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