For the One You Love
Spaetzle are worth it
I feel about Valentine’s Day what Christmas babies feel about Christmas. It’s kind of a rip-off.
My birthday isn’t on the dreaded February 14, but it’s close enough that they’ve been a package deal my whole life. I find the commercialism of fake holidays irritating on a good day but having the leading offender blended in with my birthday has always been a sore point. It’s probably part of the reason I make so little effort to celebrate my birthday – self-centeredness mixed with holiday crassness is cringy.
That said, it’s the dead of winter and there’s no real holiday on the horizon for a while. And it’s cold. And dark. So even if you won’t be getting overpriced flowers and a tacky stuffed bear holding a plastic heart it’s probably time for a treat.
Spaetzle loves you. And you might not know it yet but you’ll love spaetzle too.
Spaetzle means “little sparrow” and it’s a beautiful and very simple little dumpling/pasta thing from the southwest region of Germany. It’s not the only little dumpling thing from central Europe, but they are the ones I fell in love with on my first visit to Munich about twenty years ago.
You’ve got to try these, our friends said. They were talking about Kasespaetzle (literally “cheese spaetzle”), the Bavarian take on that often tired macaroni dish. An alpine cheese, fried onions, and happy little carb bombs were heaven to travelers with jetlag and tired feet. They were such heaven I found myself in a German grocery store buying a spaetzle maker, certain that nothing similar was to be had back home.
(Available from your favourite online retailers. You know you want one.)
I made them occasionally in the years after, but it wasn’t until culinary school that I heard much mention of them again and it’s there I discovered their special gifts.
Spaetzle looks impressive (in a “hey, I MADE this!” kind of way), don’t require special ingredients, fancy tools are optional, and are a great way to use up vegetables. Spaetzle saved my hide on one of my final cooking exams, giving me a place to get rid of a mandatory artichoke that I lost track of.
The other awesome thing? It’s an “eyeball” recipe in that the exact proportions don’t matter that much if you know the texture you’re looking for. And you can correct with more flour if it’s too wet and more milk if it’s too dry. How great is that?
Ready to try one of my favourite things ever? Ready for some carb bomb love?
You’ll need a bowl, a whisk, a silicone spatula, a colander, a pot of simmering water, and a slotted spoon or strainer. Ingredients are eggs, milk, all-purpose flour, salt and pepper. Nutmeg is optional, but recommended.
Whisk together eggs with a good sized splash of milk, a pinch of salt, a sprinkle or crack of pepper (I’m using white pepper). A quick grate of nutmeg adds lovely flavour but isn’t mission critical. I’m going with two eggs per person, but if you prefer a softer texture use one per person.
Add flour. Start with about a cup and mix. I’m using part whole wheat because I felt like it, but feel free to experiment when you get the hang of it.
Add more flour until you get a texture that looks like this. It should hang off the spatula in a v-type shape. I give it a taste to check for seasoning but if you’re concerned about consuming raw flour or eggs you can skip this – you’ll compensate for seasoning deficiencies later.
Place your colander over the simmering water. Add a lump of your dough and, using the spatula, push the dough through the holes.
The “little sparrows” will sink to the bottom of the pot and then start to float. Once most of them have risen to the surface, start counting about a minute.
Once the minute is up, skim the spaetzle off the surface with your slotted spoon. Drain well and refrigerate in a single layer. If they seem a bit sticky stir in a little olive oil or spritz with cooking spray.
Repeat with the rest of the dough. Pro-tip: do not leave the colander over the simmering water when not in use – it will heat up, dough will cook into every crevice, and your life will be a gross messy hell.
See why they call them “little sparrows”? Cute, eh?
Now, let’s make this more fun.
Remember how I said you could use up vegetables? I had some roasted beet puree in my freezer so…
I added a couple of spoonfuls of beet to a portion of dough. I added a little extra flour to get my texture back.
Just look at these pretty things! I made this batch on my special spaetzle maker so they are a little larger in size (and so you can be jealous until you buy your own!)
You could, of course, eat these as is, but let’s do the separate-the-hard-work-from-the-eating-so-you-can-actually-enjoy thing and get the sticky dishes cleaned up. If you aren’t going to use your spaetzle within a day they can be frozen in a single layer on a parchment-lined sheet and bagged when solid.
When you’re ready to eat, heat up a few tablespoons of butter and a chug of olive oil in your favourite pan. Get it good and hot, the butter fully melted, and the bubbling starting to subside.
Slip in your spaetzle (chilled or frozen) and DO NOT STIR! You want them to crisp a little and they won’t do that if you fuss with them.
Once you can smell a little toasty carb aroma NOW give them a good mix. If you have multiple colours they won’t bleed too much if they were full cooked, chilled, and mostly dry.
Crisp to your taste. I like mine mildly chewy and just a bit toasty. Season with salt and pepper as needed. Add some grated cheese, fresh herbs, or whatever makes you happy. More butter? Yes please!
You can enjoy spaetzle as a side dish or on their own. You can customize them with whatever you have on hand and the process is very forgiving. As long as you know what you’re looking for at each stage you really can’t mess them up.
Learning to trust yourself is a big part of cooking, and it’s also a big part of loving yourself. So regardless of who you’re cooking for this February 14, spaetzle are worth it (and you are too!)