The menu posted near the gate leading into Paprika am Ring offers the only insight into the Hungarian dishes served at the restaurant in Mannheim, Germany. (David Edwards/Stars and Stripes)
The spice cupboard in our family kitchen was a source of fascination during my youth, especially containers whose labels described the origin and history of such favorites as cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, cardamom and saffron.
My half-Italian mother’s recipes were the usual way of experiencing their delights. I also reveled in chances to add spices to baked goods or meals I was preparing.
But I struggle to recall a culinary concoction from those days that called for paprika. It was generally part of the stock on hand, but in retrospect it seemed to be our house’s sole inhabitant of the island of misfit spices.
Not until my early 40s, when I checked off the bucket-list destination of Budapest, did I encounter paprika on a food item other than the dreaded deviled eggs. The goulash I ordered for lunch on my first day in the Hungarian capital stuck with me as much as it stuck to my ribs.
Now, as a nearly five-year resident of Germany seeing the intense European and American focus on the mid-April elections in Hungary, I had a hankering for another taste of the country’s cuisine and its signature spice. That’s how Paprika am Ring in Mannheim found its way into my search results.
For the first of two dinners there, I started with an order of langos. My Eastern European phrase book’s normally helpful table of dishes led me to expect a “deep-fried potato cake,” which I envisioned as something like a hash brown patty.
The Hungarian food offerings at Paprika am Ring in Mannheim, Germany, include three types of langos. Pictured is the one the eatery calls the Langos Devil. (David Edwards/Stars and Stripes)
Instead, I was served an item that looked like a mini pizza topped with garlic, crème fraîche, bacon, onions and pepperoncini. It was tasty and filling, so I didn’t mind the book’s misinterpretation.
The selection of a main course came down to two items: chicken goulash or Wiener schnitzel with paprika. I’m guessing the latter is a testament to when Hungary was the junior partner in the Vienna-run Habsburg Empire.
But it didn’t feel right to me, given the ubiquity of schnitzels in the German-speaking world, so goulash it was.
The chicken goulash at Paprika am Ring in Mannheim, Germany, is bursting with the flavor of the eatery's namesake spice. It is served with a side of spätzle. (David Edwards/Stars and Stripes)
That turned out to be a fine choice. The pieces of chicken covered in a paprika cream sauce were savory and gained Hungarian character when dipped in the adjacent sour cream, which was sprinkled with the restaurant’s namesake.
I ravenously polished off both items, although I left the entrée’s accompanying spätzle almost untouched due to its blandness.
My chosen beverage was the most intriguing thing on the table that night. Known as kiba, it’s a smoothielike blend of chilled cherry and banana nectars whose name comes from the German words for the two fruits, kirsche and banane.
A glass of kiba sits on a table at Paprika am Ring in Mannheim, Germany. The beverage consists of chilled cherry and banana nectars, as reflected in the name, which is derived from the German words for the two fruits. (David Edwards/Stars and Stripes)
The nectars’ differing densities create a suspension rather than a mixture, giving the drink a marbled appearance. The delicious duality was a welcome discovery that I look forward to ordering again sometime.
A few days later, I returned with a companion for a follow-up dinner. This time, I came primed to try the menu item listed as Szegediner goulash, an amalgam of sauteed pork, sauerkraut and crème fraîche served with boiled potatoes.
The German name prompted me to guess that the dish hails from the southern Hungarian city of Szeged, but that turned out to be wrong. In English, it’s called Székely (pronounced SEH-kay) goulash in reference to the name of its purported inventor.
Although I’ve outgrown a number of finicky eater tendencies from childhood, sauerkraut usually generates a high yuck factor with me. Not so with this Paprika am Ring preparation, however.
The Hungarian dish known in English as Székely goulash is listed on the Paprika am Ring menu as Szegediner goulash. It blends pork, sauerkraut and peppercorns in a creamy sauce. (David Edwards/Stars and Stripes)
The ingredient mixture had me loving every bite. As for the side, the potatoes were a vast improvement on the spätzle served with the previous meal.
Speaking of which, the German who joined me on visit No. 2 ordered the same dish I had tried days earlier, and her verdict was in lockstep with mine. Hearing her say she didn’t care for the spätzle made me feel more secure in my review.
The cuisine of Hungary makes up only a fraction of the offerings at Paprika am Ring, which is owned by an Italian married to a Hungarian. Italian food, therefore, predominates. Patrons who don’t feel up to a meal à la Magyar will have no problem finding something more familiar.
The restaurant’s distinctiveness as a purveyor of the tastes of Hungary is not well-advertised, as the signage and the color scheme of red, white and green give the impression that it’s just another Italian restaurant in Germany.
I had walked past it at least twice before, thinking that was the case, so I did a double take when my map app directed me there. Only then did it dawn on me that the flags of Italy and Hungary have identical coloration.
The outdoor patio area at Paprika am Ring in Mannheim, Germany, surrounds patrons in greenery. The restaurant serves Hungarian and Italian cuisine. (David Edwards/Stars and Stripes)
Since that aforementioned Budapest trip, I’ve gone back twice more and now consider it my favorite European city. My last visit was a one-day stopover en route back to Germany a couple of weeks before Christmas.
But an extremely tight budget meant that I could only look longingly at the assorted food offerings and mentally note them for next time. Paprika am Ring allows me to bridge that gap, however long it ends up being.
A stroll along the ring road in Mannheim, Germany, is a good way to work off calories after a meal at Paprika am Ring. Across the street from the city's iconic water tower is the Pelican Fountain, surrounded by the lovely, flagrant blooms of empress trees. (David Edwards/Stars and Stripes)
Paprika am Ring
Address: U4 No. 13, Mannheim, Germany
Hours: Monday through Saturday, 5-11:30 p.m.
Prices: Langos, 9.50 to 9.90 euros; goulash, 16.50 to 21.90 euros; paprika schnitzel, 19.50 euros; goulash soup, 12.90 euros; kiba, 4.10 euros
Information: +49 621 43759339, https://paprika-am-ring.de/
