Schutzhaus Fare: Wild Mushroom Stew

Schutzhaus in the Tyrol Austria

The weary traveler wanders through the green valleys and steep passes of Tyrol. She finds she can walk no further; her hunger prohibits her from taking another step. Luckily a humble Shutzhaus, a haven for hikers, appears through the pines, offering shelter and hearty sustenance to succor body and spirit.

Schutzhaus fare is simple yet wholesome, intended to satisfy the often ravenous appetites of those who have been wandering, sometimes for hours on end, the mountain passes of Austria. The 1905 Manöver-Küche cookbook provides a fascinating array of simple recipes to satisfy those appetites. It also offers the Shutzhaus proprietor valuable information on how to best store and use provisions and cooking utensils under less than ideal conditions. Meat must be carefully selected, the silverware thoroughly washed, and only the finest oil and coffee purchased lest it grow rancid or stale after months of storage.

Because these tiny cottages are usually located in areas that cannot be accessed by roads, the meals served are simple affairs, made from ingredients that do not require refrigeration. Here is a recipe from Manöver-Küche for wild mushroom stew, a meal where most of the ingredients come straight from the forest.

Wild Mushroom Stew

1 pound mushrooms, wild or store-bought
2 tablespoons butter
1 onion, chopped
1/2 bunch parsley
1/2 cup chicken or vegetable stock
1/4 cup flour
Salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons sour cream

Clean the mushrooms and cut them into slices. Place them in a baking dish. Cut up butter and place on top of mushrooms. Add onion and sprinkle flour over the mixture. Pour in stock and sprinkle parsley and salt and pepper over the mushrooms. Cook in a medium oven for 1/2 hour, or until mushrooms are tender. Take out of oven and stir in sour cream. Serve immediately. This dish can also be prepared on the stove.

 

Why Fast and Fermented Foods by Christine Baumgarthuber

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From Matera, Italy: Bread Soup

olives and tree, schematic illustration

The hills near Matera, Italy stand brown and cragged against a cornflower-blue sky. For centuries their arid slopes defied nearly all attempts at cultivation; as a result, the inhabitants of Matera suffered the worst privation, such as living side-by-side with their livestock in caves. An 1878 guidebook describes Matera as “a dirty town [its] lower classes [being] the least civilized of the province of Basilicata.” But the farmers of Matera did manage to produce from the dry and rocky soil excellent wine and olive oil, and their traditional dishes reflect this meager but flavorsome yield.

Here is a recipe from the province of Basilicata for bread soup, a clever dish that turns day-old bread into a savory supper. Serve it with a green salad and red wine.

Bread Soup

9 tablespoons olive oil
2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
4 eggs, well beaten
1/2 pound stale crusty Italian bread, crumbled or cut into squares
ground hot pepper
1 small bunch basil, chopped
1 pint (500 ml) water
Salt and pepper, to taste
Pecorino Romano cheese, to taste

Place crumbled bread in soup bowls. In a large soup pot, saute the garlic and ground hot pepper. Add the water and bring the mixture to a boil. Cook for a few minutes, then stir in the basil and eggs. Pour soup over crumbled bread in soup bowls. Add salt and pepper and grated Pecorino Romano, if desired.

 

Why Fast and Fermented Foods by Christine Baumgarthuber

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A Gift from the Field: Dandelion Salad

Bright little dandelion,
Downy, yellow face,
Peeping up among the grass,
With such gentle grace;
Minding not the April wind
Blowing rude and cold,
Brave little dandelion
With a heart of gold.

With their pert yellow faces peering from amid clusters of jagged green leaves, dandelions are a distinctive flower. “You cannot forget it if you would those golden kisses all over the cheeks of the meadow, queerly called dandelions,” Henry Ward Beecher wrote in his delightful discourse on flowers. Belonging to the family of Compositae, the second largest family of flowering plants, dandelions are related to burdock, ragweed and the royal chrysanthemum. They are hardy plants, seemingly impervious to assault by rodents and grubs. They are also deceptively intricate: Each dandelion bears the weight of over two-hundred tiny blossoms, which eventually turn to the gentle puffs of fuzzy seeds beloved by children and lovelorn romantics.

dandelion, schematic illustration


Dandelion leaves make for a number of toothsome meals. They grow in abundance in fields and lawns. Gather dandelions before the flowerbud has attained any great size and serve them in a salad, as they have a pleasant bitter flavor when raw. Germans serve them with warm bacon fat, but a splash of olive oil and lemon is more refreshing. Here is a 1908 recipe for dandelion salad, a supposedly potent springtime tonic for the blood.

Dandelion Salad

Rub a salad bowl with a clove of garlic slightly bruised. Cut a small leek into thin rings and place in the salad bowl. Add a dash of English mustard, salt, pepper and a tablespoon of French wine vinegar. Drop by drop, add some French [or olive] oil, up to 2 tablespoons. Mix together. Add a hard cooked egg, cut in slices. Last of all, add the dandelion leaves, about four cups. Toss with the other ingredients. Serve with a crusty white bread.

 

Why Fast and Fermented Foods by Christine Baumgarthuber

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And, if you’d like to help the Kitchen keep cookin’, please consider picking up copies of my books, Why Fast? and Fermented Foods.