Salzstangerl

Every Bäckerei in Austria has a basket of Salzstangerl by the register. They sit there looking simple, almost plain, and that's exactly why people underestimate them. A good Salzstangerl has a thin, shattering crust rolled in coarse salt and caraway seeds, and a soft, slightly chewy interior that pulls apart in long strands when you break it open. You eat them with cold cuts, sharp mountain cheese, pickled gherkins, and a smear of good mustard. This is Jause food. The Austrian answer to the question of what to eat between meals, or instead of a meal entirely if you're honest about it.

I grew up eating these on our trips to Austria with Gretel and my grandmother Eva. We'd stop at a Bäckerei on the way from Salzburg to the Salzkammergut and Eva would buy a paper bag full of Salzstangerl and Laugenstangerl and we'd eat them in the car, warm, tearing off pieces and passing them around. Gretel always said the caraway was what made them Austrian. Take away the Kümmel and you've just got a bread stick. Put it back and suddenly you're in Vienna.

The dough is straightforward. Flour, yeast, a little butter and milk, a touch of sugar to feed the yeast. You knead it until it's smooth, let it rise, then roll each piece into a tapered stick with your palms. The shaping takes a few tries to get right but there's nothing fussy about it. Brush them with egg wash, press them into a scattering of caraway and coarse salt, and bake them hot until the kitchen smells like an Austrian bakery at six in the morning. That smell alone is worth the effort.