A 1998 Tokaji, the year we met, called for something equally special: homemade foie gras torchon. Three days, a bamboo sushi mat, a pair of tweezers and one very good bottle of wine later, Thanksgiving suddenly felt rather luxurious.

Gulyás carries a lot of Hungarian history in a single bowl: soup, not stew, plenty of paprika, strong opinions about what belongs in the pot, and a long journey across Central Europe. Here’s the Hungarian version, plus what to drink with it.

We used to live just an hour from Hermitage - close enough for a Saturday morning wine run. Some regions stick with you. So when there’s lamb on the table and Chave Farconnet beside it, Northern Rhône memories come back.