Roving Teen Reporter: Nudli Bridges Cultures
- Viki Kiss | Torrey Pines High School Junior
As I look down at my hands crusted in cocoa powder and bread shavings, I am reminded that 6,288 miles separate me from my family.
Over the years, dishes like Nudli, Gulyás, and Csirkepaprikás cultivate a union across the two homes I call home – set across the ocean. There is one in San Diego, Calif., filled with most of the tangible memories with my close family, my parents’ love, and insignificant sibling arguments — often accompanied by a visiting grandparent living down the hall. My other home is situated in two physical locations: Veszprém and Budapest, Hungary. Here, I am surrounded by cousins whom I see annually and, unfortunately, rarely speak with over the phone; aunts and uncles who can only bring up memories from my younger years; and the smell of a heartwarming dish prepared by a grandparent.
Luckily, I have had the opportunity to maintain a close-knit relationship with my Nagyi (Grandma) and Peti Papi (Grandpa) because their financial capabilities allow them to fly to California regularly. Unfortunately, this privilege has not yet extended to other members of my bloodline.
When I was younger, within minutes after my Nagyi landed in the U.S., she would always ask me what specific Hungarian dish I would like her to prepare. My answer would always be Nudli, rolled potato dumplings. Topped with cocoa powder and lingering with a sweet aftertaste, it reminds me of my Hungarian heritage.
Dishes like this built a bridge connecting my two homes.
Over the years, it became our tradition, regardless of what continent we reunited on, that Nudli would always be served. Even though this tradition started just between us, it evolved into my relationship with Peti Papa and Nagymama, as they also cooked my favorite upon arrival.
Not long ago, Peti Papa began preparing extra Nudli for me, storing them in the freezer so that they would be available whenever I needed them. A simple gesture like this keeps me feeling connected with my grandparents, even if we are an ocean apart.
Nudli is not just a dish; it means love, care, and compassion, constantly integrating my Hungarian heritage into everyday meals, bridging gaps between my two families – qualities I hope to bring into my future home. When you think about it, it is kind of sweet, just like Nudli.