A Tale of Two Lives...
This story actually doesn't start with me. It starts with my father. Born in Hungary in 1949, my father grew up in an era of Soviet occupation and majority control. The stories of little work, unfair wage, hunger and cold is grueling to even imagine.
In 1971 at the age of 21, my father escaped the Soviet regime as a national wrestler while traveling to Austria for competition. He bounced around for years between refugee camps in Germany and Austria with a few stops in between before he was granted assylum in the US (although that was not his objective, but we'll save that story for another day).
While my father made the US his home for over 45 years with the grit and perserverance of nothing I have ever seen in my own generation, he truly never forgot his roots. He visited Hungary as often as possible even if that meant being followed by Soviet cops thinking he was a spy! He brought clothes, money and helped whenever her could - perhaps to make up for the time he lost or maybe out of guilt for leaving without a note...but let's fast forward. I was born in June 1989 - and I must have brought luck because the Iron Curtain fell just a few month later in November.
My father and I visited our family often in Hungary. Simultaneously, in 1994, my father was able to open The Paprikash, the only Hungarian restaurant in Chicago. His mere 90 seat restaurant served Hungary on a plate. His passion was contagious - I could taste the love with every bite and feel the warmth of Hungarian hospitality just setting foot inside. It was almost like being back in Hungary and tasting my dear Nagymama's food again. Unfortunately, after opening a bigger location, 2008 just...well, it happened. Without much to show for his many years of success, he moved back to Hungary to retire.
At 73, you will find my father making palinka (we'll get into that later), gardening and finally getting every ounce of Hungarian life that he missed for so long. Of course, I visit him and my family as often as possible. And, he comes to visit me too. When he comes to the US - he says he is home again. When I go to Hungary - I am home again.
This website is dedicated to my father - the man who imperfectly, but with great purpose and full heart, led two lives...and has accidentally passed this double life to me.