The making of a perfect schnitzel L2Goodness,
A good schnitzel reminds many families of German heritage
Listen carefully, and you’ll hear the sounds of Oktoberfest.
Not only the oompah bands. Not only the cries of “Prost!” as revellers raise their beer glasses.
But also, in homes and restaurants all across Waterloo Region, the sizzle of frying schnitzel.
Wienerschnitzel. Schweineschnitzel. Jägerschnitzel. Or — get ready for this — Karadjordjeva Schnitzel.
That last dish is a Serbian specialty in which the schnitzel is rolled into a tube, stuffed with a delicately sour, creamy homemade cheese, and fried.
Crisp on the outside, and gooey-chewy within, it’s a favourite among customers at the cosy, family-owned Veslo Restaurant in Kitchener, which does a brisk trade in all kinds of schnitzel this Oktoberfest week.
“They eat here, then go out to drink,” says Alex Culum, an owner of the restaurant started by his mother and father, Bob and Vesna.
His mother has told him that “if she could make schnitzel her whole life, she would,” he said.
Signs of Waterloo’s German heritage are fading over time. For many years, German was the most commonly spoken language in Waterloo Region, after English. But by the 2016 census, that had changed. Now, the second language is Mandarin, and German is in third place.
Still, our rich German heritage still resonates here in many home kitchens.
“I’ve been making schnitzel since I could reach the counter,” says restaurant manager Tori Koller. “It’s very much a part of my life. It’s meaningful to me.”
She has fond memories of cooking with her late father, who would pound the meat on a cutting board and gleefully make a mess in the kitchen.
At 26, Koller runs the Bao Sandwich Bar in Waterloo. Her grandparents came to Canada after the Second World War, from Germany, Austria and elsewhere in Europe. Her father and uncles were butchers.
She makes the schnitzels by pounding the pork loin between layers of wax paper or plastic until a quarter to half an inch thick (a little less than one centimetre).
Pounding tenderizes the meat and ensures it is the right thinness. If the schnitzel is too thick, the breading will burn before the meat cooks through.
From there, it’s a three-step process: the meat is dredged with flour, bathed in an egg wash (equal parts beaten egg with water or milk, Koller says) and finally covered in bread crumbs, which stick to the egg.
Koller says the bread crumbs can be made from white or rye bread, but she has also seen her grandmother use crushed cornflakes or rice cereal. In her family, “you don’t let anything go to waste,” she said.
When she feels like a treat, she will “double bread” the cutlet. Once it has been coated with bread crumbs, she dips it in flour and egg a second time, and coats again with a second layer of bread crumbs.
That makes a “super crispy” crust, she says. “I love it that way.”
After breading, the cutlet is cooked in hot fat until browned. Koller fries it in an electric skillet set at 350 degrees.
Koller says a mix of half butter, half vegetable oil is the perfect fat in which to cook schnitzel.
“That’s the way my grandmother did it, so that’s the way we did it.”
The oil has a higher smoking point so it helps to prevent the butter from burning. And the butter gives a rich, luxurious flavour.
But there are many differing opinions on what makes a good schnitzel.
Christa Battistone of Baden, a German-born cookbook author and chef, maintains the schnitzel should be cooked in lard, not oil or butter. “It gives way more flavour,” she asserted.
As the schnitzel is frying in the pan, the fat should come halfway up and some of the hot fat should be dribbled over the top part, she added.
The flour binds with the moisture in the meat to seal the juices inside, while the bread crumbs make a crispy exterior. If the breading ripples a little bit, that’s a sign of a wellcooked schnitzel, she says.
Schnitzel can be made with veal or chicken, but pork is the most savoury. Battistone likes to press the flat side of a large knife on the meat and then press down with the heel of her hand. This makes the meat thinner without making it too mushy. For Battistone, the schnitzel shouldn’t be thicker than half a centimetre.
She spreads a thin layer of mustard on one side of the meat, horseradish on the other, before dusting with flour, dipping in egg wash and coating with crumbs. Sometimes she will add grated Parmesan cheese to the bread crumbs for extra flavour. If her guests need a gluten-free option, she uses almond flour to coat the meat instead of bread crumbs.
What about accompaniments? A traditional way of serving schnitzel is sprinkled with salt and a lemon wedge, with fried potatoes and green salad on the side.
At Veslo restaurant, you will get fresh-tasting coleslaw and creamy mashed potatoes with your schnitzel. Some are topped with mushroom gravy and others with a mixture of peppers and tomatoes.
Battistone says mashed potatoes are acceptable with schnitzel, but only if red cabbage is served as well. Although beer is an often-served accompaniment, she enjoys a fresh new wine (something like the Portuguese “vinho verde”’) as well.
A favourite accompaniment for her is a bacon and potato salad from the Schwäbisch part of the country, near Stuttgart.
For five people, cook eight slices of bacon. Slice and cook as many potatoes as they will eat. Put the drained cooked potatoes in a bowl with salt and pepper. Mix together with the crumbled bacon. To make the dressing, whisk the bacon fat with a little mustard, a quarter-cup (60 mL) of chicken broth, and a little apple cider vinegar. Mix well with the potatoes and bacon. Sir in some chopped green onions and parsley.
Koller loves to make spätzle, which are homemade noodles made by pressing a batter of flour, egg and water through the holes of a colander into boiling water. After they cook, she fries them lightly in a pan with butter and poppy seeds.
She likes to serve schnitzel with mashed potatoes and red cabbage that has been cooked in beer and bacon. Honey-glazed carrots are a favourite accompaniment, too.
When her grandparents first came to Kitchener, they sent their Canadian-born children to German-language schools and were part of the Concordia Club, Koller recalled.
A generation went by. The connection to the old country loosened over time. Koller didn’t go to Germanlanguage school. But she still loves to make schnitzel.
“Our family revolves around food,” she said. “Especially traditional food.”