In defense of hearty German food

A recent story in the Washington Post reported on a sad trend: All over the country, German restaurants are going out of business.

This news is especially troubling because Germans still make up the largest ancestry group in the United States. But the food of their homeland is rarely served in restaurants. The reason given most often is that German food is heavy.

What’s wrong with heavy? Let’s not even call it heavy, let’s call it hearty. That sounds better, and is more accurate. It’s hearty, it’s filling, it’s full-flavored. And it’s wonderful.

German food often comes to us one of three ways: made with pork, made with bacon or made with both pork and bacon. But the country is also known for its robust, chewy breads and its delicate, cream-filled pastries.

And there is, of course, its beer. German beer — stouter and sturdier than American — is a perfect accompaniment for dishes made from pork and bacon, as well as brawny loaves of bread.

For this culinary tour of Germany, I decided to stay away from the most obvious choices. That meant no sauerbraten, no sausages, no potato pancakes. I did include schnitzel.

Specifically, I made Schnitzel à la Holstein. Originally created at a Berlin restaurant for a well-known patron named Friedrich von Holstein, it features a fried egg, anchovies and capers on top of the schnitzel, a breaded veal cutlet.

I highly recommend using veal, if you can find it and afford it. Use of pork is a choice made more out of frugality than flavor. There is nothing like a mild and tender veal schnitzel.

To contrast with the rustic schnitzel, I decided to add a little refinement: a sauce made from cognac and cream. Because the dish is German, this sauce was served with pork. Thin medallions of tenderloin are I browned and simmered in a sauce redolent also of mushrooms (a full pound for four servings), shallots and the sweet German wine Riesling.

Sticking with the pork theme, I also made a stew with pork, leeks and potatoes: perfect for after a long day of hiking in the Alps.

The pork — I used meat from the shoulder — cooked up nicely tender after just about an hour. I added the leeks and diced potatoes about halfway through the cooking time, which allowed them to become succulently soft but not overcooked. This is a deeply satisfying, earthy dish.

All of that meat deserved a good salad, so I made an excellent one with beets and onions. Horseradish gives it a modest bite, and it is all brought together by the tang of vinegar and the moderating presence of vegetable oil. A pinch of sugar smoothens out the vinegar, while caraway seeds (the recipe suggests either caraway or cumin) add a welcome sharpness.

Finally, we include a pastry. Germany is famous for its konditoreis, bakeries that sell only pastries, not bread. The konditerei baked goods are sublimely light and often filled with a heavenly pastry cream. I decided to make a cream puff.

The shell is made from a pate à choux dough, the same as an eclair. This dough, when cooked, puffs up and becomes hollow in the middle. Getting this magic to work requires a few simple tricks, but these are easy to make and the result is absolutely worth it.