skinny girls & mayonnaise

I spent a long, cold portion of a winter in Vienna once.

What I was doing there is a long story all it’s own, but like many such stories, it had to do with a girl. That didn’t work out as planned, and I spent much of my time there on my own, exploring the city — stumbling on former residences of Beethoven around every corner, searching out the Grove of the Immortals — Brahams, Schubert, Strauss, Beethoven — in the Central Cemetery, visiting the homes of Mozart and Dr. Freud, staring at the sparkling canvases of Klimt at the Kunsthistorisches Museum, taking in Richard Strauss’ “Rosenkavalier” at the famed State Opera House and a performance of the Vienna Boys Choir at the Imperial Chapel.

As I do most places I go, I had food adventures in Vienna as well. I found a favorite wurst stand near the Stephansplatz (St. Stephan’s Square to you and I) run by a Chinese guy who laughed hysterically whenever I ordered the spicy currywurst and said in broken Chinese-and-German-accented English, “Some like it hot!!!” I found the Turkish neighborhood and bought hot, freshly baked flatbreads. And then there was my daily afternoon stop at a liquor store on my way home, where each day I would pick up a large bottle of beer to take back to enjoy at the flat overlooking the Danube. Each was better than the next; that is, until I one day purchased a particular bottle that was especially thin, one-dimensional and bitter. It was only upon closer inspection of the label that I discovered the word, “Alkoholfrei.”

I ate out many times while I was there — in grand old coffee houses like the famous Café Pruckel, and hipster joints with my former-girlfriend-but-by-this-point-just-friend Karin. But the one thing I never at in Vienna was wienerschnitzel.

My sister, Andrea, rescued me midway through my stay and we set off for Italy. She took great delight in my explaining to her that Vienna in German was called “Wien” (pronounced, “Veen”), and the people who lived there were therefor “wieners.” “Look at all the wieners!” she kept saying as we traversed the city by bus. “Wienerschnitzel” is the “schnitzel” (cutlet, typically made with veal) of the Viennese. It’s as simple as that! And the dish, for one steeped in such lore, is deceptively simple. Much like the city’s wursts, there are a dazzling array of variations — pork schnitzel, paprika schnitzel, rahm schnitzel with mushrooms… even versions from further afield like the Berliner schnitzel a la Holstein with anchovies and fried egg. I prefer the pork version — it’s less expensive and tastier than veal, and you aren’t eating a baby animal.

In the years since my adventure in Vienna, I’ve become quite adept at making schnitzel. I’ve even mastered the traditional accompaniment: the light, drizzly egg pasta known as spaetzle. One day I would like to return to that lovely city and try the dish where it originated. For now, I take my meat mallet in hand and pound, pound, pound…

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Wienerschnitzel
serves 4 – 6

2 lbs. pork or veal cutlets, 1/2-inch thick
3 eggs
1 cup flour
1 cup fine bread crumbs
1 cup lard or vegetable oil (or half and half of each)
1 large lemon
Flaky sea salt & freshly ground pepper

About 1 hour before commencing cooking, sprinkle the cutlets liberally with salt.

Place cutlets, one at a time, between two sheets of wax paper. Using a meat tenderizer or the back of a heavy chef’s knife, pound the cutlets as thin as you can — preferably to 1/4 an inch. Continue until all cutlets have been pounded out.

Beat the eggs in a large, low bowl. On two plates, place the flour and the bread crumbs. Heat about 1/3 cup of lard (or oil) in a very large skillet over medium-high heat. Dredge the cutlets in flour, then dip in the egg, then in the bread crumbs to coat. Place cutlets, 2 or 3 at a time (whatever your skillet will fit), and cook about 2 minutes on each side, until crisp and golden. Remove to a plate and keep warm in a 200 degree oven. Continue until all cutlets have been cooked.

To serve, place a couple cutlets on each of 4 (or 6) plates. Sprinkle with flaky sea salt and freshly ground pepper, and serve with a lemon wedge. Wienerschitzel is typically served with spaetzle (a loose egg-based pasta noodle) and/or sauerkraut.