HUNGRY FOR HUNGARIAN: DINE LIKE A MAGYAR KING

The Hungarians, or Magyars, as they call themselves, came to Europe from central Asia thousands of years ago speaking a maddeningly complex, unpronounceable language. They mingled with their neighbors--Slavs, Latins, Teutons and Gypsies--producing the unique bloodline that they carry today. Their language is as difficult as ever.

Hungarian cooking is another hybrid, the product of a colorful, romantic history. Ottoman pashas occupied Hungary for centuries, bringing with them the secrets of Turkish kitchens. Sour cream is a substitute for the yogurt once used in Hungarian dishes. Even their favored seasoning, paprika, is an import. Paprika was brought from the New World and didn’t arrive until the late 16th Century.

Modern Hungarian cuisine is subtle, delicate, hearty and rich, and it’s a shame that this country has so few first-class Hungarian restaurants.

There is variety here and regal peasant charm, but don’t expect the grandes salles of Budapest society. You’ll find a lot more than just goulash ( gulyas ), but if you require a place where wine flows like the Danube and violinists play through the night, bring your own sommelier and string quartet along.

O’Buda is charming, despite an unassuming store front in a pod mall. Judith Ivots, who is bilingual, opened the restaurant with her mother a little over a year ago, and she’s filled the dining room with an air of cheerful simplicity.

The kitchen at O’Buda is authentic and lively, thanks to the young chef Ivots recently brought over from Hungary. Service is provided by Ivots’ boyfriend, Tibor, a Hungarian who is distinctly not bilingual. Tibor wanders the room with an errant grace reminiscent of a young Bela Lugosi, and when he descends on your table with his long black tuxedo you know he means business. There’s nothing sinister about his smile, though. He’s an excellent waiter, despite the language barrier.

Tibor started us with hortobagyi palacsinta , a meat-filled crepe blanketed by a naturally thickened meat stock; you are not likely to find a better Hungarian dish anywhere in Los Angeles. He also insisted we try the cold fruit soup, a sour cherry cream soup that is more of a dessert than an appetizer. It too was delightful. Both appetizers are deceptively filling.

The restaurant has many interesting main dishes, and there are different specials daily. Two of the best are the Sunday special het vezer tokany , chunks of veal and pork in a delicate cream sauce, and rakott krumpli , a perversely rich casserole of scalloped potatoes with kolbasz sausage, eggs, and sour cream, served Saturdays.

Saturday is also one of the days O’Buda has entertainment, a Hungarian pianist and engaging raconteur--for those who understand Hungarian. Those who don’t can revel in the simple charm of the place. Wash everything down with a bottle of Badacsonyi Surkebarat, a medium-dry white wine that rivals the best Germans at half the price, or the better-known Egri Bikaver, also known as bulls’ blood, a robust red with a fine, flowery bouquet. You’ll have an evening to remember.

Monique doesn’t sound like a Hungarian name, and that’s because it isn’t. Monique Theraube is a stunning blonde from Barcelona, and when she greets you at the door you may think you’ve come to the wrong place. You needn’t worry. Her chef was trained in Budapest.

The chef’s name is Sandor Fekete, and before he walked across the Austrian border in 1956 he was in his native Hungary. Fekete prepares French and Continental specialties nightly, but his heart is in the Hungarian dishes, which are prepared from recipes he learned as a child.

Monique’s has a special for two called the Hungarian potpourri at just under $25; and for first-time visitors it is the logical choice. If you’re like me, though, you won’t make it past the appetizers.

Everyone begins with a little crock of homemade Liptauer cheese, a classic spread of farmer’s cheese, paprika, and caraway seeds, regardless of whether or not they order the Hungarian dishes. It’s habit forming. Then langos , a Hungarian fried peasant bread dripping peppery oil, is brought. Langos looks and tastes the way you always dreamed a homemade doughnut would--soft, yielding, yeasty and chewy. You rub it with the clove of garlic that comes on the plate and-- voila --you have a peasant’s paradise.

Then the Debreceni kolbasz are served, three giant, home-smoked, piquant sausages, with the scent of fresh, sweet paprika that is so irresistible. By the time you finish the sausages, not to mention a subtle cucumber salad topped with sour cream and served almost as an afterthought, you should be ready to do what we did--bring the main dishes (stuffed cabbage, and beef tokany in a rich sauce of red wine and paprika) on a picnic the following morning. Then you might have room for real Dobos torta and for a glass of tokaji aszu , the famed Hungarian dessert wine.

Hortobagy has been around for several years; it should be around for several more. It is named for the puszta , or great plain of Hungary, a dry, dusty, expanse where nomads, cowboys, and wayward violinists have been grilling meats over crude fires for countless centuries.

Hortobagy is the place to try many mainstream Hungarian dishes, like sekely gulyas , a Transylvanian pot of pork, sour cream, sweetened sauerkraut, and caraway. This is also a good place to try gulyas itself, a soup really, a feisty red broth filled with paprika and chunked beef.

My friend and I thought we were hungry, so we decided on the fatanyeros , or wooden platter, which claims to serve two, but could feed a band of Gypsies and a pack of wolves. The plate is piled with grilled and breaded meats--liver, pork steak, schnitzel, sausage--and accompanied by garnishes like pickles, cabbage, potatoes and rice. There’s even a slab of csazar szalona atop the pile, thick bacon curled into an arc. It’s $21, for two.

Don’t leave Hortobagy without trying their wonderful palacsinta -- thin, rolled up pancakes with a variety of different fillings. The best are lekvar , a prune jam, and walnut, with just the right amount of sugar. There are also apricot, and sweet cheese.

Hortobagy makes a homemade chestnut torte that is absolute perfection, but too rich for any non-cowboy or beached Gypsy. Believe me, you’ll have to csardas all night if you want to work that one off.

O’Buda Hungarian Restaurant, 5424 Laurel Canyon Blvd., North Hollywood, (818) 508-5049. Open for dinner Wednesday-Monday. Beer and wine. MasterCard, Visa, Diners Club accepted. Dinner for two (food only) $15-25.

Monique, 618 S. Shoppers Lane, Covina, (818) 332-4902. Open Tuesday-Saturday, for lunch and dinner. Beer and wine. All major cards. Dinner for two (food only) $25-40.

Hortobagy, 11138 Ventura Blvd., Studio City, (818) 980-2273. Open daily for lunch and dinner. Beer and wine. No credit cards. Dinner for two (food only) $20-35.