Kaiserschmarrn

First and foremost, happy belated Mother’s Day to all the moms out there, especially those brand new or soon-to-be ones.  You know who you are, and I hope that you know that I know what fantastic moms you’ll be.  Yay for babies!  And mothers!

As for my own mom, she’ll be here in less than a week, and I can hardly contain myself.  The very thought has me scrubbing bathrooms, planning day trips, and generally just doing a lot of bouncing up and down.  The thing is, I happen to have a really great mom (and dad, obviously, but I’m trying to make a point here).  So does my husband.  Our moms are kind of similar, actually.  Imagine two brown-haired, very small, very loving, very busy ladies who GET IT DONE.  IT being whatever you put in front of them, be it some sort of financial contract or a bowl of eggy, raisin-dotted dough.  Now imagine that these two (who don’t speak the same language, by the way) will be sharing a kitchen and running circles around one confused me for the next two weeks.  It’s going to be so great.  But more on that later.

While my mom, dear soul, hustles around to fill her suitcase with things I can’t get or don’t like in Europe (necessities, like large bottles of Ibuprofen, cake pans, and candy), my mother-in-law holds down the fort here in Germany.   I showed up on her doorstep last week, hungry as heck, and she immediately fed me cake.  I love her.  It was homemade, perfect, raspberry-topped cake.  Then she asked me what I wanted for dinner.  Considering that there was already some fresh plum compote sitting on the counter, I can only assume that she knew the answer:  Kaiserschmarrn.  Move over, raspberry cake.

The best translation my husband and I could come up with for Kaiserschmarrn is “Emperor’s Scramble,” the other option being “Emperor’s Rubbish.”  Neither really does it justice.  Just know that it was originally made for an Emperor and something went terribly wrong.  And by terribly wrong I mean oh so right.  It’s thick, fluffy, not-too-sweet batter that’s fried gently and then torn up into bits and pieces.  I don’t know how else to describe it.  It’s basically what the cookie monster would do if he ever got ahold of a really yummy pancake.  After sprinkling it with powdered sugar, you serve it with—in my world—thick, cinnamony plum compote.  It balances the schmarrn perfectly, and I beg you not to eat it any other way.  Ever.  The serving size is whatever size your pan is, so expect to go to bed full.  House rules.  Which reminds me!  It’s another one of those originally Austrian, chameleon-like treats that can be served as breakfast, lunch, dinner, or dessert, so you can eat it whenever you want.  Directly after raspberry cake, even.  Are you in love yet?  I am.

Vielen vielen Dank, as ever, to my mother-in-law for her recipe, her time, and her patience as I repeatedly stuck my camera lens in her batter bowl, mid stir.  Next time you show up hungry on my doorstep, I promise I’ll return the favor!

Kaiserschmarrn

You can make this with or without raisins.  We used normal raisins and then later wished we had soaked them in rum first.  You can also use butter instead of ghee, but I prefer the taste and texture of ghee’d schmarrn.

4 large eggs, separated
1½ cup flour
¼ cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
¾ cup milk

Raisins
Ghee
Powdered sugar
Plum compote or preserves

Beat the egg whites until stiff.  Combine the sugar, flour, baking powder, and salt in a bowl.  Add the remaining yolks to the flour mixture and mix until smooth, slowly adding the milk as you go.  Fold in the egg whites.

Melt a generous chunk of ghee in a large skillet over medium heat.  Pour a portion of the batter into the pan and sprinkle with a handful of the raisins. Leave it alone until it is nicely browned—this will take a few minutes.  It should become about fifty percent thicker than an American pancake.  Flip it over and allow the other side to brown slightly.  With two wooden spoons or forks, tear it into bite size pieces and continue frying until all pieces are golden.

Sprinkle with powdered sugar and serve with plum compote.

Serves 2-4

Tagged as: Dessert, family, Kaiserschmarrn, Recipe