Csopaki Resti

Last weekend, I found myself invited to Lake Balaton, where I had the chance to enjoy some of the finer pleasures Hungary has to offer. One of the highlights was an unforgettable evening at Csopaki Resti—a charming, intimate restaurant housed in a former train station building.

The space is remarkably small, with seating for just ten guests. As a late addition, I was fortunate enough to be squeezed in, claiming the eleventh seat. Interestingly, while the building is no longer used by the Hungarian State Railways, the train station itself remains active. Trains still pass by and also stop here.

The setting felt deeply personal and warm, almost like being welcomed into someone’s home. With only ten seats, eleven in my case, it created an intimate atmosphere where guests could watch the chef and his apprentice prepare each course just a few steps away. Their quiet concentration and graceful movements became part of the dining experience itself, turning the meal into a kind of culinary performance.

Dinner was a set six-course menu, which I ordered with the wine pairing. I don’t usually go for pairings, but given the setting, it felt like the right choice. Most of the group kicked things off with a schnapps, followed by a glass of sparkling wine to get the appetite going. I could barely keep up before the first course and its accompanying wine arrived.

We began with a chicken liver pâté served with berries and a toasted slice of brioche. Although the Hungarians don’t call it brioche, but rather cake, it was still warm from the grill and beautifully paired with the pâté, shaped into a smooth Quenelle. A spoonful of wild berry sauce, along with fresh raspberries and blackberries, added a touch of brightness. A sprinkle of flaky sea salt balanced the sweetness perfectly.

It was a wonderful start to the evening. The liver parfait was creamy, with an exceptionally smooth texture. The berries brought a lovely sweetness, balanced by just enough acidity to keep the soft, rich flavors of the pâté from becoming overwhelming. It was just perfect on the warm brioche.

The vegetarian first course featured a thick slice of king oyster mushroom with wilted spinach and cashew nuts, served with a tangy, fairly acidic sauce. While the sauce paired well with the mushroom, the dish as a whole lacked depth and wasn’t particularly memorable.

Next up was celeriac three ways. It’s one of the most humble vegetables—often overlooked and rarely given center stage. Most people know it only as part of the classic soup vegetable mix, tucked between carrots, parsley root, and leek. Here, though, it was treated with care and creativity, showing its full potential. The dish was served with a wine from the Somló region, which complemented its earthy depth beautifully.

At Csopaki Resti, this humble root vegetable was elevated to a true showstopper. A round disk of celeriac was gently cooked and then roasted in butter until it reached the perfect tender texture without gaining too much color. Seasoned with Dukkah, it carried a wonderful nutty flavor. Resting atop the disk were a few small cubes of celery stalks, also basted in butter. The dish was accompanied by a creamy celeriac purée blended with coconut milk and crowned with crispy celeriac flakes. I would have gladly licked the plate—the creamy purée was absolutely outstanding. To top it off, the entire dish was completely vegan.

The next course left all thoughts of veganism behind as carp, Lecso, and bacon made their appearance. Lecso is a Hungarian version of ratatouille, rich with peppers and tomatoes. This lecso was uniquely seasoned with Ras el Hanout, an Arabic spice blend, creating an intriguing and unexpected flavor combination.

Its unusual color came from both the spice mix and the use of yellow peppers, eggplant, and squash. The bacon arrived in two forms—crispy fried strips atop the vegetables and delicate lardo draped over the carp. Carp can be tricky to prepare well, often carrying a muddy aftertaste if not sourced carefully. At Csopaki Resti, however, it was impeccably handled, fresh and clean in flavor.

What can I say—it was absolutely delicious, and I washed it down with a glass of rosé. The vegetarian version featured grilled parsley root and oven-dried tomatoes, with the tomatoes standing out in particular for their intense aroma.

Next came the duck soup, made from a broth that had been simmering all in all for over a year, resulting in a deeply intense and rich fowl flavor. The soup was garnished with celery stalks, spring onions, sesame noodles, and crispy fried leek, adding layers of texture and freshness.

I loved the Asian-inspired soup. Its complex flavors, balanced with fresh ingredients, kept it light rather than heavy—almost like a perfect palate cleanser after the fish. With no wine served alongside, I finally had a chance to catch my breath.

The vegetarian version of the soup was very light and almost flavorless, especially after tasting the rich duck soup. So I cannot really say how it tasted.

The meat course that followed was guinea fowl served with a vegetable stew. The bird was grilled on a kettle barbecue right in front of us, adding to the anticipation. While we waited, we were served a small cup of peppermint tea. Its fresh, soothing flavor made me wonder why I had never liked it before.

Unfortunately, the guinea fowl was my least favorite dish of the evening. The smoky flavor was overpowering and masked much of the other elements. That said, the meat was juicy, and the skin perfectly crispy. After finishing the fowl, I was able to appreciate the vegetables on their own—they were fresh and still had a nice bite. The dish had a bit too much roux for my taste, which is a personal preference rather than a fault of the chef. I also missed the promised tarragon, detecting only fresh parsley. On the bright side, the wine pairing was wonderful once again.

The vegetarian version featured the same vegetable stew, accompanied by a couple of falafels. Freshly fried, the falafels tasted more of the frying oil than of chickpeas or seasoning. The BBQ sauce, made from red beet, was mild but failed to add anything memorable. Overall, this dish didn’t quite convince me either.

The dessert, on the other hand, was an absolute winner. A rich chocolate brownie topped with caramel rested on a bed of vibrant apricot sauce. A dollop of whipped ganache, made with coconut cream, crowned the top, while more brownie pieces nestled in a small cavity at its center. The sweet wine served alongside complemented the vegan dessert perfectly.

The brownie was made with olive oil instead of butter, which perhaps gave it that unique and wonderful flavor. My vegetarian friend was so impressed that she wanted to order a second portion right away—it truly was absolutely to die for!

What a lovely surprise to discover such a jewel in the smallest of settings. The set menu with wine pairing was memorable on many levels—not just for the company, but also for the rare chance to watch a chef in his element. Highly recommended! Yours, Pollybert