Germknödel

Germknödel belongs to the Alpine south, to ski huts, winter tables, and the sweet main dish that nobody in the north pretends is supper. In Bavaria and Austria it comes big as a fist, filled with Powidl, the thick plum preserve, and buried under melted butter with Mohnzucker, poppy sugar. In the Palatinate they will start talking about Dampfnudeln with a salty crust. In Saxony you hear Hefeklöße. Im Norden anders, im Süden anders. This one is the southern soft dumpling, no crust, no packet, no apology.

The trick is not the filling. The trick is the dough. Yeast dough for a dumpling has to prove twice because the first rise builds strength and the second fills the shaped Knödel, dumpling, with gas in the right place. Skip that second rise and the outside swells while the middle stays heavy around the Powidl. Das braucht seine Zeit.

Steam it gently, not at a hard boil. A hard boil knocks the dumpling about and tightens the dough before the centre has lifted; steady covered steam lets it swell without tearing. Keep the lid on until the time is up. Lift it early and the temperature drops, the skin wrinkles, and you learn manners from a saucepan.

Use real Powidl if you can, or a very thick plum butter cooked down from Zwetschgen, the oval prune plums. Thin jam leaks and turns the centre wet. Nicht aus dem Glas if the glass is full of syrup pretending to be fruit. Thick, dark, almost spoon-standing. Then butter, poppy, sugar. Schön ist, was schmeckt.