Monday, May 17, 2010

Waffleschmarrn

Dinner at Die Blaue Gans the other night was more than satisfying: a spicy cheese spread and a tower of potatoes, sauerkraut, and blood sausage were a rich start to a filling main course of pan-fried trout with cauliflower and pine nuts in a buttery white wine sauce. I was nonetheless coaxed into ordering dessert, partially out of peer pressure, but also because “Schwartzwälder Torte” looked fun to pronounce. But when the desserts arrived at the table and everyone saw what was placed in front of Chase, we all instantly wished we had been savvy enough to say “Kaiserschmarrn.”

It wasn’t that the presentation was that spectacular. It looked like, and was, a heap of mangled and nearly-burnt pancakes. But the scent of butter and sugar rising from it set off whatever sensory receptors are responsible for telling the brain “There is something nearby that should be eaten immediately.” I don’t remember if I asked permission before extending my fork; all I remember is the decadent taste of butter saturation and chewy caramelized edges.

“Kaiserschmarrn” is a dessert version of the original “Schmarrn,” a shredded omelet, but the same word can be used to mean “rubbish.” It’s clear, to me at least, that this traditional Austrian dish is the product of incompetence in the kitchen: the delicious result of being unable to flip an omelet or a pancake without destroying it, followed by the chef's giving up and calling it something else. So as I surreptitiously devoured Chase’s dessert, I started thinking about how to make it myself.

But while I pondered whether it would be best to use a cast-iron skillet or non-stick pan, another experiment occurred to me, one that would use up the leftovers from a previous weekend brunch that were now sitting in the freezer. “Waffleschmarrn” seemed like it would have potential – the many edges would allow for even more caramelization.

It was experimental cooking, played entirely by ear. I melted two tablespoons of butter in a frying pan, and zapped two frozen waffles in the microwave for a minute or so, sprinkling them with lemon juice when they came out to make sure they stayed soft. I tore them into irregular chunks and threw them into the melted butter, then added a tablespoon or two of powdered sugar and turned the heat up to high. After a few minutes the edges were crisping up and the sugar was caramelizing nicely in places. I piled all of it onto a plate and spooned some blueberries (also thawed in the microwave) over the top.

I would say the experiment worked. Next time I might brown the butter a bit more and add sugar to the pan before the waffles to get a deeper caramel going, but it was still a very tasty dessert. When you think about it, it’s nothing more than a butter-soaked heap of rag-like breakfast pastry bits, but when you can describe something using the words “butter-soaked” and “heap,” it's clearly not the time or place for skepticism.

No comments:

Post a Comment