
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.
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Rough-torn Nockerl layered with pungent Pinzgau mountain cheese and golden fried onions, served straight from the Pfandl to the table with nothing but a crisp green salad alongside.
The first time I ate Kasnocken properly was at a Gasthaus in Saalfelden, on one of those childhood trips to Austria with Gretel and my grandmother Eva. I was maybe ten. The Pfandl arrived at the table still sizzling, and the smell hit me before the food did: browned butter, sweet onions, and this sharp, almost barnyardy cheese that I didn't have a name for yet. I remember Gretel nodding at the pan and saying, 'That's real Pinzgau cooking. Simple ingredients, nothing hidden.' She was right. There's nowhere to hide in this dish.
Kasnocken are small, rough-torn dumplings made from the most basic dough you can imagine: flour, eggs, water, a pinch of salt. You scrape them off a board into boiling water, fish them out when they float, and layer them in a hot pan with grated Bierkäse, the pungent washed-rind cheese that the Pinzgau is famous for. The cheese melts into the warm Nockerl and goes stretchy and golden. Then you pile caramelized onions on top, the kind fried low and slow in butter until they're deep amber and sweet. The whole thing goes to the table in the pan it was made in.
This is mountain food. It was built to feed people who'd been outside all day in cold air, people who needed something hot, rich, and filling that could be made from what the farm produced: flour, eggs, milk, cheese, onions. There's no cream sauce, no béchamel, no complication. The cheese does the work. If your cheese is good, your Kasnocken will be good. If your cheese is bland, nothing else can save it.
Kasnocken belong to the Pinzgau, the mountainous western district of Salzburg province, where alpine dairy farming has shaped the cuisine for centuries. The dish relies on Pinzgauer Bierkäse, a washed-rind cow's milk cheese with a strong aroma and a tangy, almost spicy flavor that softens to something buttery and complex when melted. The name Bierkäse likely comes from the old practice of washing the rind with beer or whey during aging. Kasnocken are protected as a traditional Pinzgau specialty and remain the signature dish of the region's Gasthäuser, served year-round but most beloved in winter as the definitive après-ski meal.
Quantity
400g
Quantity
4 large
Quantity
150ml
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
250g
coarsely grated
Quantity
3 large
halved and thinly sliced
Quantity
60g
Quantity
pinch
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
generous handful
cut into rings
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| plain flour (griffiges Mehl if available) | 400g |
| eggs | 4 large |
| water | 150ml |
| salt (for dough) | 1 teaspoon |
| Pinzgauer Bierkäse or strong washed-rind mountain cheesecoarsely grated | 250g |
| onionshalved and thinly sliced | 3 large |
| unsalted butter | 60g |
| sugar | pinch |
| salt and black pepper | to taste |
| fresh chivescut into rings | generous handful |
| green salad (Blattsalat) | for serving |
Combine the flour and salt in a large bowl. Make a well in the center. Crack in the eggs and add the water. Stir with a wooden spoon, working from the center outward, until you have a thick, sticky dough. It should be too wet to knead and too thick to pour. Beat it vigorously with the spoon for two or three minutes until it starts to pull away from the sides of the bowl in stretchy strands. This beating develops the gluten, which is what gives the Nockerl their pleasant chew. Let the dough rest for ten minutes while you start the onions.
Melt the butter in a wide pan over medium-low heat. Add the sliced onions, a pinch of sugar, and a good pinch of salt. Stir once to coat them in the butter, then let them cook slowly. You're not sautéing, you're coaxing. Stir every few minutes. The onions need fifteen to twenty minutes to go from raw and sharp to deep golden, sweet, and soft. If they start to darken too fast, lower the heat. Rushed onions taste bitter. Patient onions taste like caramel. Set them aside when they're a rich amber color.
Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a rolling boil. Wet a cutting board and spread a portion of the dough across it in a thin layer. Using a knife or a Nockerl scraper dipped in water, cut small, rough strips of dough and scrape them directly into the boiling water. Work in batches so the pot doesn't crowd. The Nockerl sink first, then bob to the surface after a minute or two. Let them float for another thirty seconds, then lift them out with a slotted spoon into a warm bowl. They should be tender but with a slight resistance when you bite through. Don't worry about making them uniform. Rough shapes are the whole point. The irregular edges catch the melted cheese.
Preheat your oven to 180°C (350°F). Butter a cast-iron Pfandl or oven-safe skillet generously. Spread a layer of warm Nockerl across the bottom. Scatter a generous handful of grated Bierkäse over the top. Add another layer of Nockerl, another layer of cheese. Repeat until you've used everything, finishing with cheese on top. The warm Nockerl start melting the cheese immediately, which is exactly what you want. Slide the Pfandl into the oven for eight to ten minutes, just until the cheese on top is fully melted and starting to turn golden at the edges.
Pull the Pfandl from the oven and pile the caramelized onions across the top. Scatter chive rings over everything. Bring the whole pan to the table on a wooden board or a folded kitchen towel, because the handle will be hot. Serve it straight from the Pfandl with a crisp green Blattsalat dressed in a simple vinaigrette on the side. The salad isn't optional. You need that cold, sharp bite against all that rich, melted cheese. Mahlzeit!
1 serving (about 350g)
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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.

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