Hungarian Goulash Beef Stew

My grandmother's kitchen always smelled like paprika when winter arrived, and somehow I inherited both the habit and the recipe without ever formally learning it. The first time I made Hungarian goulash on my own, I was intimidated by the paprika—how could something so vibrant not burn?—but I watched her hands work through muscle memory alone, and mine finally understood. Now, whenever I brown those cubes of beef and the kitchen fills with that unmistakable warmth, I'm right back there, learning that goulash isn't fancy; it's just honest food built on patience and good ingredients.

I made this for my partner's family one snowy February, nervous about cooking someone else's cultural food correctly, but his grandmother tasted it and just nodded—the kind of nod that meant everything. She didn't offer corrections, only asked for seconds, and that quiet approval felt like the highest compliment. That's when I understood that goulash isn't about perfection; it's about showing up with respect and letting the dish speak for itself.

Ingredients

• Beef chuck: The marbling in chuck is everything here—it breaks down into gelatin as it cooks, which is what gives the broth that silky, rich body that makes you want to drink it straight from a spoon.
• Hungarian sweet paprika: Not the supermarket stuff gathering dust in the back—seek out real Hungarian paprika from a specialty shop or online, where it still tastes like the peppers it came from and hasn't lost all its soul to time and fluorescent lighting.
• Onions: These are your foundation; don't rush them past golden, or they'll turn bitter and the whole stew suffers.
• Caraway seeds and marjoram: They're subtle enough that you might not consciously taste them, but if you skip them, you'll feel like something's missing without knowing what.
• Beef broth: Homemade is ideal, but a good quality store-bought version works—just taste it first to make sure it's actually seasoned and not just salted water.
• Tomato paste: A small amount deepens everything without making it taste tomatoey, which is the whole trick of using it correctly.

Instructions

Build your base with caramelized onions:

Warm your oil or lard in a heavy pot—cast iron or enameled Dutch oven is ideal—then add the onions slowly and let them turn golden over medium heat, stirring occasionally. This takes about eight minutes, and it's not wasted time; you're creating the foundation that everything else sits on.

Wake up the garlic:

Push the onions to the side, add the garlic, and let it cook for just a minute until the smell shifts from raw to fragrant. The moment you catch that aroma, you're done; one more minute and it turns acrid.

Brown the beef properly:

Add your beef cubes and increase the heat slightly; resist the urge to stir too much, letting them sit long enough to develop a golden crust on each side. This takes about five minutes total and creates the umami foundation that makes the whole stew deep and satisfying.

Toast the paprika:

Sprinkle it over the meat and onions, then stir immediately and constantly for about thirty seconds—this blooms the paprika's flavor without letting it burn. If you add paprika to cold ingredients, it stays a bit flat; heat makes it sing.

Build the flavor layers:

Add your tomato paste, caraway seeds, marjoram, pepper, and salt, stirring everything together until the tomato paste is mostly dissolved. You're creating a paste-like coating that will distribute all these flavors evenly throughout the stew.

Add the vegetables and broth:

Toss in the carrots, bell pepper, and bay leaf, then pour in your broth while scraping up every browned bit from the bottom of the pot with your wooden spoon. Those brown bits are liquid gold—don't leave them behind.

First gentle simmer:

Bring everything to a simmer, then cover and reduce heat to low; this slow cooking for an hour lets the beef start softening without the aggressive heat that can make it tough. Stir occasionally, more out of habit than necessity.

Add potatoes and finish cooking:

After an hour, add the potatoes (if using), uncover, and continue simmering for another forty-five minutes to an hour until the beef shreds easily and the vegetables are tender. You want the stew slightly thickened from the beef's collagen and the potatoes breaking down a bit.

Taste and adjust:

Fish out the bay leaf, taste it, and add more salt if needed—it should taste bold and deeply savory, not timid. This is your moment to listen to your own palate instead of following someone else's measurements.

Save

Years later, I served this to my own kid for the first time, and they asked why it tasted like love—which is a strange thing to say about a stew, but also exactly right. That's when I realized my grandmother had passed on more than a recipe; she'd passed on the understanding that slow cooking is an act of care.

The Paprika Question

I've made goulash with grocery store paprika, and I've made it with paprika I brought back from Budapest, and they're genuinely two different dishes. The authentic stuff has a depth and slight sweetness that budget paprika just doesn't have, and since paprika is literally the only spice doing heavy lifting in this stew, it's worth ordering online or finding at a specialty market. If you absolutely cannot find Hungarian sweet paprika, you can use Spanish smoked paprika in a pinch, though it'll taste smokier and less delicate, and your goulash will lean in a different direction entirely.

Serving and Leftovers

Goulash wants something to soak up its broth—thick, crusty bread does the job beautifully, and egg noodles make it feel like a proper dinner. Some people serve it over csipetke, which are little Hungarian dumplings you pinch off by hand, and if you've never made those, they're worth learning. The real magic happens the next day, when the flavors have had time to marry and the stew tastes even richer than it did fresh.

Making It Your Own

This is a template, not a prison sentence. If you like heat, add hot paprika or a chopped chili pepper in the last thirty minutes. If you're not a potato person, leave them out entirely—the stew is just as good without them. Some people add red wine, which darkens the broth and adds tannin; some people add a splash of vinegar at the end, which brightens everything up slightly. Cook it your way and trust your own instincts.

• Try using beef short ribs instead of chuck if you want even more flavor and don't mind longer cooking time.
• A small pinch of cayenne at the very end adds complexity without obvious heat if you want depth rather than spice.
• Always taste before serving and remember that salt can always be added but never removed.

Save

Make this when you want your home to smell like comfort and your dinner to feel like an embrace. That's the whole point.

Recipe FAQ

→ What cut of beef works best for this stew?

Beef chuck is ideal due to its marbling and connective tissue, which break down during slow cooking, resulting in tender, flavorful meat.

→ How does Hungarian sweet paprika influence the dish?

Sweet paprika adds a smoky, mildly sweet depth and vibrant color, essential for capturing the traditional flavor profile.

→ Can I add other vegetables to this stew?

Yes, carrots, onions, bell peppers, and optionally potatoes contribute texture and sweetness, balancing the rich meat base.

→ What is the best way to thicken the stew?

Slow simmering reduces the broth naturally, concentrating flavors and causing a slight thickening without added starches.

→ Is it necessary to brown the beef before simmering?

Browning the beef develops a rich caramelized flavor and improves the depth of the stew.

→ Can this dish be made spicier?

Adding a pinch of hot paprika or chopped chili peppers will introduce extra heat while maintaining traditional flavors.