Gebackene Champignons

Every Austrian Beisl has a version of this on the menu, and every regular has an opinion about whose is best. Gebackene Champignons are the quiet proof that the Wiener Panier, that sacred three-step breading of flour, egg, and breadcrumbs, doesn't belong to Schnitzel alone. It belongs to anything brave enough to be fried in hot fat and eaten with your fingers at a Heuriger table while the wine is still cold.

I first had these as a child at a Buschenschank outside Vienna, one of those annual trips with Gretel and my grandmother Eva. The mushrooms arrived on a wooden board, golden and piled high, with a little bowl of tartare sauce and a wedge of lemon. I remember being amazed that something so simple could taste that good. The crust crackled when you bit through it and the mushroom inside was soft and almost creamy, having steamed gently inside its breadcrumb shell. Gretel always said the Viennese figured out long ago that if you bread something properly and fry it in enough fat, you can make anything taste like a celebration.

The technique is identical to Wiener Schnitzel. Flour first, to give the egg something to grip. Egg next, to glue the breadcrumbs on. Fine breadcrumbs last, pressed gently, never packed. Then into hot fat, enough that the mushrooms float and the crust puffs away from the surface. If the breading lies flat and greasy against the mushroom, your oil wasn't hot enough or you didn't use enough of it. This is not health food. This is good Austrian cooking, honest about what it is.