
Chef Elsa
Bröselnudeln
Broad egg noodles tossed in golden butter-toasted breadcrumbs until every strand is coated and crackling. Four ingredients, fifteen minutes, and a dish that has kept Austrian families fed and happy for centuries.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
Hand-crimped Carinthian pasta pockets stuffed with smoked pork and fresh mint, boiled until tender and then pan-fried golden in brown butter. Kärnten on a plate.
Carinthia is the part of Austria that doesn't get enough attention, and its food is the reason that's a shame. The first time I ate Kärntner Fleischnudeln properly was on one of those childhood trips with Gretel and my grandmother Eva. We'd driven south from Salzburg through the Tauern tunnel and ended up at a Gasthaus somewhere near the Wörthersee. I was maybe ten. A woman brought out a plate of these half-moon pasta pockets, golden from the pan, and I remember the smell before I remember the taste: brown butter, mint, and something smoky underneath. I ate four. Gretel ate three and took notes.
What makes Carinthian Nudeln different from every other filled pasta in Europe is the Krendeln, the hand-crimped edge that seals each pocket. It's not decorative, or not only decorative. The crimp locks the filling inside so tightly that nothing leaks during cooking. Carinthian grandmothers judge each other's Krendeln the way Viennese Konditors judge each other's Torten. It takes practice. Your first few will look rough. That's fine. They'll taste the same.
The filling here is Selchfleisch, Austrian smoked pork, ground and mixed with fresh mint. Mint in a meat filling sounds strange if you're not from Kärnten, but it's the signature. It lifts the smoky richness of the pork and gives the whole dish a brightness you don't expect. You boil the Nudeln first, then finish them in a hot pan with butter until the edges go crisp and golden. The contrast between the tender dough, the savory filling, and those buttery fried edges is what keeps Carinthians fiercely proud of their Nudeln, and what keeps me putting them on my menu in Salzburg every autumn.
Kärntner Nudeln trace their lineage to the culinary crossroads of Carinthia, Austria's southernmost province, where Slavic, Italian, and Alpine German cooking traditions have mixed for centuries. The filled pasta tradition likely arrived through contact with Italian and Slovenian neighbors, but the Krendeln crimping technique and the distinctive use of fresh mint in fillings are uniquely Carinthian. Fleischnudeln, the meat-filled version, were historically a feast-day dish served after pig slaughter in late autumn, while the more common Kasnudeln (cheese-filled) were everyday fare. The Lesachtaler Brot, a related bread tradition from Carinthia's Lesach Valley, was added to UNESCO's Intangible Cultural Heritage list, reflecting the region's deep food identity.
Quantity
300g
Quantity
2 large
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
80-100ml
Quantity
350g
finely minced or ground
Quantity
1 medium
finely diced
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
2 tablespoons
finely chopped
Quantity
1 tablespoon
finely chopped
Quantity
1 medium (about 100g)
boiled and riced
Quantity
1
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
pinch
freshly grated
Quantity
60g
Quantity
for serving
finely cut
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| plain flour | 300g |
| eggs (for dough) | 2 large |
| neutral oil (sunflower or rapeseed) | 1 tablespoon |
| salt (for dough) | 1/2 teaspoon |
| lukewarm water | 80-100ml |
| Selchfleisch (smoked pork)finely minced or ground | 350g |
| onionfinely diced | 1 medium |
| butter (for filling) | 1 tablespoon |
| fresh mintfinely chopped | 2 tablespoons |
| fresh parsleyfinely chopped | 1 tablespoon |
| waxy potatoboiled and riced | 1 medium (about 100g) |
| egg yolk | 1 |
| salt and black pepper | to taste |
| nutmegfreshly grated | pinch |
| unsalted butter (for pan-frying) | 60g |
| fresh chivesfinely cut | for serving |
Mound the flour on a clean work surface and press a wide well into the center. Crack the eggs into the well, add the oil, salt, and about half the water. Work the dough together with a fork first, then switch to your hands once it becomes shaggy. Knead for a full eight to ten minutes, adding water a splash at a time until the dough comes together. You want it smooth, supple, and just slightly tacky to the touch. If it sticks to the counter, you've added too much water. Dust lightly and keep kneading. The dough should feel alive under your hands, springy when you press your thumb into it.
Wrap the dough tightly in cling film and let it rest at room temperature for thirty minutes. This is not a suggestion. The gluten needs to relax after all that kneading, or the dough will fight you when you try to roll it thin. It will spring back and tear instead of stretching. Walk away. Make the filling. Come back when the dough is ready to cooperate.
Melt a tablespoon of butter in a small pan over medium heat. Cook the diced onion gently until soft and translucent, about five minutes. You don't want any color on it. Set it aside to cool. In a bowl, combine the minced Selchfleisch, the cooled onion, the riced potato, egg yolk, chopped mint, parsley, nutmeg, salt, and pepper. Mix with your hands until everything is evenly distributed. The potato binds the filling and keeps it moist. Without it, the smoked pork can dry out during cooking.
Divide the rested dough in half. Work with one piece at a time, keeping the other covered. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out thin, about two millimeters. You should nearly see the countertop through it. Cut circles using a round cutter or a drinking glass, about ten centimeters across. Gather the scraps, press them together gently, and re-roll once. The second-roll pieces won't be quite as tender, but they'll be fine.
Place a generous teaspoon of filling slightly off-center on each circle. Don't overfill or you won't be able to seal them. Brush the edge lightly with water. Fold the dough over to form a half-moon and press the edges firmly to seal, pushing out any trapped air as you go. Air pockets will expand during cooking and burst the Nudeln open. Now for the Krendeln: starting at one corner, fold and pinch the sealed edge in small overlapping pleats, working your way around the curve to the other corner. It looks like a tiny rope border. Your first few will be clumsy. By the tenth one you'll find a rhythm.
Bring a large pot of generously salted water to a rolling boil. Drop the Nudeln in, working in batches if needed so you don't crowd the pot. They'll sink, then float. Once they float, cook for four to five minutes more. The dough should be tender but still have some bite at the crimped edge, where it's thickest. Lift them out with a slotted spoon and let them drain on a clean kitchen towel. Don't pile them on top of each other or they'll stick.
Melt the butter in a wide, heavy pan over medium heat. Let it foam and then watch the color. You want it golden and nutty smelling, not dark. This is Nussbutter, brown butter, and it's going to give the Nudeln a toasted, rich finish that plain melted butter can't touch. Lay the boiled Nudeln in the pan in a single layer. Don't touch them for two minutes. Let the bottom develop a dry, crisp golden crust. Flip them once and fry the other side for another minute or two. The edges of the Krendeln will get particularly crispy. That's the reward for all that crimping.
Transfer the Nudeln to warm plates, browned side up so you can see the crust. Spoon any remaining Nussbutter from the pan over the top. Scatter fresh chives across the plate. Some people in Kärnten serve a simple green salad alongside, dressed with pumpkin seed oil. That's a good idea. Mahlzeit!
1 serving (about 270g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Elsa
Broad egg noodles tossed in golden butter-toasted breadcrumbs until every strand is coated and crackling. Four ingredients, fifteen minutes, and a dish that has kept Austrian families fed and happy for centuries.

Chef Elsa
Vienna's weeknight answer to everything: soft flour Nockerl fried golden in butter, scrambled through with eggs and buried under fresh chives. A sharp green salad on the side because the Viennese know that richness needs a counterpoint.

Chef Elsa
Soft Austrian potato dumplings in browned butter with warm, caraway-scented sauerkraut. A meatless Gasthaus meal that's been filling up Alpine kitchens for centuries.

Chef Elsa
Tyrolean meatless bread dumplings stuffed with handfuls of fresh herbs and soft onions, poached until they float, and served in broth or with brown butter and a sharp green salad.