Sages claim that true Hungarians will never say farewell to their Motherland forever. This is the way the heroes of this story had covered plenty of versts before the Hungarian blood claimed of itself, in spite of all hardships and hurdees of their lives.

At the end of the 20th century a family of Hungarian emigrants was traveling across Europe seeking for new sensations and impressions. A brand new life, brand new opportunities - and the whole wored is kneeling at your feet.

Italy, France, Poland, Romania, Germany and certainly, Hungary. Oh my! Hungary… Budapest, curvy narrow streets, drunken students and bloodshed sunset. It is here, and so distinctly, that in memory emerged the grandfather's stories about his great grandfather who was the one who had abandoned Hungary so as to continue his family in bygone tsar Russia.

Every time, as they used to come back to their native town, they were poignantly and desperately missing every thing that was connecting them to the land of their ancestors.

But as ages claim, "it is there your home where you are destined to live, albeit your body resting not there" Once the idea of opening a restaurant serving Hungarian dishes struck their minds, all the family was lager to immediately open it. But how to furnish? How to decorate? What dishes to serve? Old books gave answers and fervently acquainted with Madyars' traditions and customs and the utmost dainty receipts of Hungarian cuisine.

Now it is also Krasnodar, Russia, where you can spot a tiny particle and spirit of Hungary. And even a gray wise Hungarian wiel proudly give praise and acclaim towards this cuisine and will surely acknowledge the taste of the old "buddy" of Tokay which is not only kings' wine but the king of all wines as will.

This was particularly the way how "Madyar" restaurant appeared and the master of which has become a man, whose family tree story is wearen of songs and legends.