Several weeks ago, when we published a translation of the so-called "Culinary Charter" addressing the alleged crisis in Hungarian dining and culinary culture, we promised to publish our own thoughts on the matter in "a few days." Well, it took a little longer than that, in part because the authors of the charger came back with a second open letter, but also because we wanted to think long and hard before we put our fingers to the keyboard. (This also explains why posting on the site has recently been a little light.) If you have any thoughts on the questions raised by these various documents we'd love to hear them, and we suspect others would as well. - The Editors

In matters of food and wine, the Hungarian state is a root problem, not a potential savior

The signatories of the Culinary Charter concede that the Hungarian state is unlikely to play a significant role in any renaissance of Hungarian cuisine that may take place in the near future. But they seem do so only grudgingly, saying that the state's role in the destruction of dining culture during the Communist era gives it a "special responsibility" not only to stop hindering the national kitchen, but to help rebuild it.

While in a country like Hungary it is only natural for the public sector to loom large in any discussion of culture, an even bolder break with this habit is necessary. The Hungarian state is not only responsible for the culinary horrors of the 20th century. It continues to be the national kitchen's worst enemy. Set aside the fact that the state-run bodies set up to "promote" food and wine in Hungary generally do exactly the reverse. The very behaviors and attitudes that are inimical to a dynamic culinary culture - mediocrity, dishonesty, meanness of spirit, and the triumph of form over substance and connections over quality - are the same ones tirelessly promoted by the state and its corrupt and morally bankrupt institutions.

As the Hungarian state shows no meaningful signs of reforming itself or being reformed, an important part of any genuine effort to develop Hungary's culinary culture is to kick the Hungarian state out of the national kitchen, and not let it back in until it learns to behave itself.

Food snobbery and faddism are corrosive to a good culinary culture

Connoisseurship is a wonderful thing, and essential to the development of a dynamic food or wine culture. But when taken to the extreme, it quickly becomes food snobbery, which is something quite different, and not nearly as wonderful.

Let's be honest. Many foodies get so excited by (for example) high-quality "heirloom" tomatoes not just because they are better than regular tomatoes. It's because a special knowledge of, or access to, super-paradicsom gives one a certain "insider" status that is even more tasty than the high-grade tomatoes themselves. And if everyone has access, it's not so much fun anymore.

So before you join any culinary crusade, you should examine your own motives, and honestly come to terms with the question of whether you genuinely want everyone to appreciate and enjoy what you appreciate and enjoy, or whether a desire to be among a select crowd of enlightened connoisseurs is more important to you. If the answer is the latter, you can take your fancy tomatoes and go wait in the hallway with the Hungarian State. We don't need you.

Freedom includes the freedom to eat garbage

Though the one thing all humans have in common is that they eat, only a minority of people even in affluent societies spend much time focusing on the finer points of culinary life. And as life becomes ever more crowded with things to get excited about - the new iPhones are here! - it's not clear that people are going to spend more rather than less time worrying about the food they eat. But this doesn't mean that these people are ignorant or uncouth, just that they may have different priorities.

So even if you are an altruistic, non-snobbish connoisseur who only wants to spread the Good Word about heirloom tomatoes, keep in mind you will still run into lots of people who don't care about heirloom tomatoes, and never will. And they have a right not to be forced to eat or subsidize the production of heirloom tomatoes if they don't want to, no matter how wrong-headed you may think they are.

Tesco is not the enemy

For sure, hypermarkets are responsible for their share of culinary horrors. But the dramatic, unprecedented rise in average Hungarians' food purchasing power thanks to the arrival of modern, high-volume retailers is the surest foundation for a future blossoming in general culinary attitudes and behaviors. It is only when people don't have to scrape their fillers to buy potatoes that they can start worrying about how the potatoes taste. Meanwhile, you don't find five different kinds of reasonably-priced virgin olive oil in your local CBA or farmers' market. So find another, more worthy villain.

Good food without good service isn't very good

Some of us recently visited Italy - one trip to the north, and another to Sicily - and in both regions we encountered nothing but friendly, helpful and hard-working restaurant service workers. If hard-pressed waiters in some of the most overrun tourist cities of the world, and those in sleepy, mob-infested villages closer to Africa than Rome can both get it right, surely we can expect more from Hungary's pincérek. Especially if the management is tacking on an extra 10% to the bill for "service."

When you kiss ass, you spread disease

If your mother makes a bad pörkölt or your neighbor comes by with a bottle of his traditionally undrinkable házipálinka, you can be excused for pretending it's delicious. But when someone is expecting people to pay their hard-earned forints for a plate of food or bottle of wine, you shouldn't mince words.

For a people who take their complaining seriously, Hungarians are strangely unwilling to speak up when presented with food or wine that fails to meet their expectations. And this silence is most pronounced when the food or wine comes from some fashionable or "historic" restaurant or wine-maker.

So if you have an overpriced, unexceptional meal at (for example) Gundel, don't be afraid that politely informing your waiter of your disappointment is going to cause a scene. (Of course, the waiter will most likely instantly take it personally, but that's his problem, not yours.) Instead, be afraid that by not doing so their poor example will be emulated by others.

A dirty restaurant critic is worse than a dirty cook

It's hard or impossible for a nation to have a dynamic dining culture if the media and other bodies supervising that culture are crooked. And, unfortunately, Hungary's are - deeply.

Fortunately, this is one area where those interested in creating a more dynamic and healthy dining culture in Hungary - especially those who have signed the Culinary Charter - can actually make an immediate difference, by shunning or ostracizing those people and institutions known to trade cash or favors for good reviews, "PR articles" or awards.

Rather than speaking in vague terms, we're going to take the rather drastic (at least in our lawyer's opinion) step of naming names, or at least one: the "Best of Budapest." To be perfectly blunt, anyone who has anything to do with this monstrosity is a culinary criminal of the worst order, no matter how many fancy petitions they may sign.

A nation's culinary character is the product of individual, not collective, vigilance and achievement

Finally, despite widespread belief to the contrary, successful national cuisines or dynamic culinary cultures are not the product of people or communities deliberately "banding together" to promote excellence. Instead, they are the result of individuals, families and communities just doing what comes naturally to them over time.

It is important to remember this whenever examining a particular culinary culture, and especially when trying, as the Culinary Charter signatories are, to change it. Ambitious public campaigns aimed at changing deeply-ingrained social habits seldom achieve more than making the campaigners feel good about themselves. To quote the great American satirist P.J. O'Rourke, "Everyone wants to save the world; no one wants to help mom with the dishes." So before we rush off to change the world, let's see if mom needs any help with the dishes, and maybe even help her with dinner.