What to Do with a Bunch of Leftover "Brezn"
25 August 2009
A couple of weeks ago we had friends visiting from Zurich and decided this was a great opportunity for a Bavarian "Weisswurstfrühstück" – an extended breakfast essentially including Weisswürste (Bavarian "white sausages", which are simmered in not-quite-boiling water rather than fried) with sweet mustard, fresh Brezn (pretzels), and wheat beer to drink (admittedly, I substituted this by a glass of prosecco, as I personally don’t like beer – of course I am shamefully aware that this is actually completely, totally wrong…).
The pretzels must be very fresh (anything else is really a no-go), so Simon made his usual Sunday-morning-trip to the bakery (this is our usual division of labour: I’m responsible for dinner, Simon for breakfast). In his enthusiasm, paired with an empty stomach and possibly some remaining sleepiness, he came home with what looked like at least half of Munich’s supply of Brezn – oven fresh, big, and deliciously doughy. Although our appetite was quite big, we couldn't possibly eat them all.
I had scruples throwing the leftover heap of those wonderful Brezn away, so I decided to process them into Breznknödel (meaning pretzel dumplings) the next day. Wrapped in a plastic bag, they had turned chewy over night - the perfect state to chop them up, soak them with milk and eggs and together with a bunch of condiments work them into a doughy mixture. I had never made Breznknödel before, so I basically followed this recipe by Alfons Schuhbeck, adapting it slightly to my liking (essentially, I added a teaspoon of curry and some dried lovage). I shaped the dumplings, wrapped them up, and having no immediate use for them put them in the freezer.
Coming home from a weekend in London last Sunday evening, we were delighted to find those home-made dumplings in the fridge (I had removed them from the freezer before leaving for the weekend), all done, just waiting to be boiled. I very briefly sautéed some tasty chanterelles and porcini to go with them (I love wild mushroom season!), and there was our perfect Sunday evening dinner!
Breznknödel
| adapted from Alfons Schuhbeck |
yields about 6 dumplings |
| 250g day-old soft, "doughy" pretzels |
| 250ml milk |
| 2 eggs |
| 1/2 large onion |
| 20g butter |
| 1 tablespoon freshly chopped parsley |
| a good pinch of freshly ground nutmeg |
| 1 teaspoon mildish curry powder |
| 2 teaspoons lovage (either freshly chopped or dried) |
| some oil for frying |
| freshly ground salt and pepper to taste |
Take the about one-day-old pretzels, rub off the salt on the crust, cut them into relatively fine slices and place in a bowl. (The pretzels should be of the soft and "doughy" type. Ideally, wrap them in a plastic bag when they are fresh and let them rest over night, so they get chewy but not completely dry.)
Bring the milk to a boil, let it cool down again to luke-warm temperature and stir in the eggs. Season with a bit of salt, pepper, freshly ground nutmeg, and in my adaption with a tablespoon of mild curry powder as well as some dried lovage. Pour over the pretzel crumbs and mix well.
Peel the onion, chop finely and briefly sweat in a little bit of oil. Warm the butter until slightly browned, combine with the onions as well as the chopped fresh parsley and thoroughly stir into the pretzel mixture. Let the finished dumpling dough rest for a while so the remaining pieces of pretzel get totally soaked; later you can easily squash them with a wooden spoon, making the dough more homogeneous.
Form the mixture into either a bunch of ball-shaped dumplings (this is how I did it), or one big roll of about 5cm in diameter (as Schuhbeck suggests). In either case, wrap with one layer of clingfilm, followed by a layer of aluminium foil and close the edges well (like this, you can also perfectly freeze the dumplings if you don’t want to use them immediately; just defrost before cooking).
To cook, bring a pot of water to a gentle boil and simmer the dumplings for about 30 minutes. Drain and unwrap. You can serve them as a whole or sliced (the slices are also nice when briefly browned in a bit of butter).
Breznknödel can of course be used as a side for a variety of dishes, but I really like them best in a simple sauce of wild mushrooms; for example chanterelles and porcini, just sautéed in butter with a bit of finely chopped onion, garlic and fresh parsley, and optionally finished with a little spoon full of crème fraîche.