Jezsek Cukrászda on Népszínház utca: where the old days have stayed with us, in the good sense
Among the overfilled bins of Népszínház utca, there is a place where time has stood still. But in the good sense.
Fotó: Jezsek Cukrászda / FacebookThis article was translated from Hungarian. The Hungarian original is the authoritative version. Read the original
If you walk down Népszínház utca today, let’s face it, the good old days are not what comes to mind. It is a bit grubby and a bit run-down, the wind rolls plastic cups along at the foot of apartment blocks with crumbling walls, and what drifts out of the gateways is hardly the scent of spring flowers. Let’s be honest: the area has seen better days. But right in the middle of this big Pest muddle there is a clean, safe island where a person can find some peace: Jezsek Cukrászda.
While on the other side of the Nagykörút the fashionable, modern cafés dazzle the crowds with all sorts of grandly named, wildly overpriced free-from pastries and oat milk coffee, Jezsek doesn’t mess about. Barely five people fit into the tiny, old-fashioned shop at once, but there is no need for flashy furniture. There is no secret here: from the simple partnership of good lard and flour they bake savoury scones that the fussy folk of the city centre would beg for on their knees. The marzipan mignon, the traditional custard cream slice and the homemade bejgli are made exactly as they were written down in our grandmothers’ recipe books. They couldn’t care less about today’s trends, and they are quite right.
Behind the counter the family runs the shop, now in its third generation. They don’t appear on television, and they don’t want to show off designer pastries on the internet. They simply do their job day after day: they bake for the local labourers, the office workers who drop in and the old regulars. The coffee is brewed on a simple machine, the service is free of unnecessary sugary flattery, and still everyone comes back. Because after the dilapidation of the street, stepping in here is like coming home to a friendly kitchen.
When you drink the last sip of your black coffee to the bored hum of the cake fridge, you realise that the world outside may really have changed, and not for the better. But as long as Jezsek holds the line in the middle of run-down Józsefváros (Budapest’s 8th District), all is not lost. You pocket your change, step out onto the worn pavement, and say to yourself only this: I will definitely come back here.
