Budapest’s Most Noteworthy New Bakeries Take Tradition in New Directions
Observer · · g3054643
A mix of new and old flavors alike defines the city’s sweet scene.
Mornings in Budapest often unfold over biscuit-like pogácsa or crescent-shaped kifli savored from a neighborhood bakery, known as a pékség. By afternoon, attention turns to slabs of bright apricot-cottage cheese Rákóczi túrós veiled in a meringue lattice and slices of nutty, buttercream-layered Esterházy torta, beloved mainstays of the pastry and confectionery shop—the “cukrászda.” All these treats are inviting portals into Hungarian culture, but in recent years, a slew of bold bakers have veered away from tradition, both reimagining the classics and introducing new creations, like a strawberry-pistachio Paris-Brest and a Swiss roll filled with cherry jam and tonka bean-mascarpone cream. A tour through unconventional Budapest bakeries and pastry shops reveals an alluring fusion of innovation and appreciation for the past.
After 12 years learning and working in bakeries throughout Europe, Gergő Fekete returned home to Hungary and opened Artizán , eager to woo locals with the same slowly fermented sourdough breads he encountered during his travels. Sourdough was already catching on in the city, with early pioneers providing a welcome alternative to the dominant airy, white, mass-produced loaves. Fekete’s bread, sometimes spawned from ancient grains like einkorn, spelt and kamut, still draws lines, but so do the pastries.
Initially, Fekete refused to turn out predictable Hungarian favorites, but now, along with ever-changing seasonal confections that meld, say, blueberry and lemon cream, there are inventions that pair chocolate with sour cherry, a fruit that is exceptionally popular in Hungary. Regulars also order túrós táska, bundles of sweet curd cheese, and chocolate-swirled kakaós csiga, snail-shaped beauties—there’s a savory jalapeño incarnation, too—that are a fixture on the Hungarian breakfast table. “With time, I realized that it is important to show people new things, interesting products from around the world, but it is also important that we take care of our heritage,” Fekete tells Observer.
Since Artizán’s debut, Fekete has built an empire, including porridge bar Fågel , café Pan’ni, ice cream shop Minus11 and patisserie Mamie, which features refined renditions of go-to Hungarian desserts, including Dobos torta crowned in a sliver of crackling caramel.
Like Fekete, baker Csaba Osváth kicked off his career abroad, working at bakeries in London and Stockholm. When he and his wife, Zsófia, returned to Hungary, they launched Läget to “show another way of baking,” he says. Breads embrace whole-grain flour from Hungarian mills, and Osváth’s Scandinavian influence manifests in best-selling buns made with freshly milled cardamom seeds. But from the beginning, he was also keen to give Hungarian recipes daring twists, like a Korean-inspired csiga variation with spring onions and gochujang, finding a balance of intrigue and familiarity.
The distinct roles of baker and pastry chef were once exclusive domains. Increasingly, these roles are starting to comfortably intertwine. In Budapest, the impact has been well-received.
Lea Lefkovits’ passion for baking came from her grandmother. Buoyed by stints in her family’s restaurants, Lefkovits went on to study at the Culinary Institute of America. Upon earning her diploma, she worked at Spago Beverly Hills and Dominique Ansel ’s now-defunct Los Angeles bakery. She eventually returned home to Budapest, where she became the pastry chef of Salt restaurant, co-owned by her sister. The sourdough bread she made for the tasting menu was such a hit that eventually, the Salt Bakery spinoff was born, translating the restaurant’s commitment to top-notch ingredients, craftsmanship and hospitality to a more relaxed, everyday setting. Here, those signature breads mingle with kimchi csiga, vegan chocolate babka, and basil-yuzu cookies under Lefkovits’ Babo Bakes line.
For Lefkovits, Budapest’s old-fashioned pastry shops remain an essential part of Hungarian food culture. “They carry memories, history and recipes that shouldn’t be lost,” she says. At the same time, people are curious about new options, and Lefkovits has responded to those cravings by planting her feet in both worlds: “I want to create things that feel rooted in place while still feeling fresh, exciting and relevant.”
The desire to elevate the Budapest baking scene in a more focused, thoughtful way is only continuing to grow. Consider brothers Tamás and Gábor Buda , the duo behind the roving pop-up Termelő , which fosters a sense of community in hangouts like the Vietnamese café Caphe by Hai Nam and co-working space Isola through buzzy events centered on their baked goods.
Tamás, a chef-turned-baker, previously worked in Denmark and Norway, and Gábor followed him there. When they came back to Hungary, they wanted to introduce Budapest locals to the Nordic spirit through their clamored-for cinnamon buns. Soon, they had another runaway success with the creamy walnut-vanilla bucka, a Danish-reminiscent delight that gives new meaning to a nut pervasive in Hungarian baking. A brick-and-mortar Termelő shop with large windows and benches is forthcoming, reinforcing the sense of exuberance and engagement the Buda brothers engendered in their pop-ups from the get-go. “We want to be present and have a connection with our customers,” Tamás explains. They also want to shatter the notion that bakeries need to please everyone and highlight only a few items that accelerate Termelő’s reputation as a destination. Rather than bake already pervasive croissants themselves, they’ll tell customers where to snag good ones.
Gergely Váczi is also leaning into the niche at Orma , a bakery born in Pécs, in southwest Hungary. The newly opened Budapest outpost, a colorful, subterranean space that taps into Váczi’s architecture background, is arguably the city’s most ambitious bakery yet. Only plant-based, unprocessed ingredients are used here, sourced from organic farms. “Instead of butter, we use sweet potato puree and cold-pressed oils,” he says. “It’s an undiscovered way of baking, and it’s actually a lot of fun.” Faux-sweet cottage cheese buns shun dairy for millet, a rustic csiga is chock-full of walnuts, and Danish-style rye is dubbed “zero-waste bread” because it incorporates such leftovers as coffee. Between the small-scale production system and Váczi’s fermentation experiments, he’s ushering in an impressive model of sustainability for upstart bakeries to pull from.
Café Gerbeaud , undoubtedly Budapest’s most iconic pastry shop, dates back to the mid-19th century, and visitors swoon for its namesake cake, known as zserbó szelet: a fusion of walnut, apricot and dark chocolate served in the company of glittering chandeliers and swaths of wood.
But a few luxe additions to the scene reinforce a growing enthusiasm for desserts beyond the Hungarian canon without diminishing the vitality of the well-worn cukrászda. At the St. Regis Budapest, which debuted earlier this year, Klotild Patisserie turns heads. A former apothecary, it retains its old-world ambiance, enticing guests with almond croissants, mango sorbet and log-shaped millefeuille. Equally glamorous Cova is in nearby Matild Palace; the Budapest branch of the historic Milanese import arrived this summer, serving panettone and tiramisu amid deep blue velvet and restored regal columns.
Self-taught pastry chef Alexandra Horváth , a co-owner of Egy Csipet Torta , cultivates this duality at her modern confectionery, the offshoot of a custom cake-baking business. “Hungary has a wonderful pastry tradition, and I think it’s important to respect and preserve it,” she explains. That’s why custardy canelés, chocolatey coconut balls and constantly changing choux pastries sit beside jars of updated Somlói, the Hungarian sponge cake trifle.
Tiny, pioneering Asztalka , a homey spot serving cakes atop doilies, has also abided by this double-pronged baking mindset since opening in 2013. “We call it ‘otthon a cukrászdában’—home, in the pastry shop—because the porcelain we use, the atmosphere, all of it contributes to a shared experience where guests can discover a variety of delicious things together,” says owner Virág Lelkes .
Although Lelkes revels in dreaming up cakes that flaunt brazen flavor combinations like white chocolate-matcha mousse ramped up with blueberries and blackcurrants, she also has a soft spot for new spins on legendary Hungarian desserts, including the Márai cake based on the chocolate-walnut Gundel pancake. Most adored of the bunch is Asztalka’s take on the famous krémes, an ethereal amalgamation of toasted almond meringue, vanilla cream and whipped cream. “It brings back the flavors of childhood,” she adds.
A reverence for the old and an affinity for the new are undeniable in Budapest, and the city’s contemporary bakeries and pastry shops add another layer to a city in constant flux. They are both preserving and reinterpreting a strong, cherished culinary component of Hungarian identity.