
Chef Elsa
Eiersalat (Austrian Egg Salad)
Cool, creamy Austrian egg salad with sour gherkins and tart apple in a mustard-yogurt dressing, the kind of honest Jause food that tastes like an Austrian Easter table and works beautifully all year round.
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Crispy golden breaded chicken torn over warm potato salad and tender Vogerlsalat, the whole thing drizzled with dark green Steirisches Kürbiskernöl that turns this Styrian composed salad into a proper meal.
The first time I tasted Steirisches Kürbiskernöl I was nine years old, sitting in a Buschenschank outside Graz with Gretel and my grandmother Eva. Gretel drizzled it over a plate of sliced tomatoes and white beans and told me to taste it. I remember the color before the flavor: so dark green it looked almost black, until you tilted the plate and it caught the light and turned garnet at the edges. Then the flavor, nutty and deep and completely unlike anything in my grandmother's Kent kitchen. I was hooked.
Backhendlsalat is Styria's answer to the question every good cook eventually asks: what happens when you put something crispy on top of something soft and dress the whole thing properly? The chicken is breaded and fried exactly like a Wiener Schnitzel, golden and wavy and shatteringly crisp. You slice it into thick strips while it's still hot and lay it over a bed of Vogerlsalat (lamb's lettuce, those tiny dark rosettes that taste like earth and pepper) and warm potatoes dressed in beef broth and vinegar. Then the Kernöl goes on. Not heated. Never heated. You drizzle it cold from the bottle in dark green ribbons and it pools in the folds of the lettuce and stains the potatoes and makes the whole plate smell like toasted pumpkin seeds.
This is a Gasthaus dish. You'll find it on every second menu in Styria and across most of Austria by now. It's substantial enough to be your whole dinner, and on a warm evening with a glass of Welschriesling, I can't think of many things I'd rather eat. The contrast is what makes it work: hot chicken, cool greens, warm potatoes, cold oil. Every bite is a little different from the last.
Backhendl (fried breaded chicken) has been a fixture of Austrian cooking since at least the 18th century, when it appeared in Viennese cookbooks as a celebratory dish. The Styrian salad version emerged in the 1980s and 1990s as part of a regional food renaissance, when Styrian chefs began showcasing local ingredients, particularly Kürbiskernöl, which received its Protected Geographical Indication (Steirisches Kürbiskernöl g.g.A.) from the European Union in 1996. The oil comes from a specific variety of hull-less pumpkin seed grown only in southern Styria, and its production is so tied to place that Styrians consider it as essential to their identity as olive oil is to Tuscany.
Quantity
4 (about 150g each)
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
80g
Quantity
2 large
beaten
Quantity
120g
Quantity
for frying
Quantity
500g
unpeeled
Quantity
150ml
Quantity
1 small
finely diced
Quantity
3 tablespoons
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
pinch
Quantity
3 tablespoons
Quantity
150g
washed and dried
Quantity
4 tablespoons
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
handful
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| boneless, skinless chicken breasts | 4 (about 150g each) |
| salt and freshly ground black pepper | to taste |
| plain flour | 80g |
| eggsbeaten | 2 large |
| fine dry breadcrumbs | 120g |
| clarified butter or neutral vegetable oil | for frying |
| festkochende (waxy) potatoesunpeeled | 500g |
| warm beef broth | 150ml |
| onionfinely diced | 1 small |
| Apfelessig (apple cider vinegar) | 3 tablespoons |
| smooth Dijon-style mustard | 1 teaspoon |
| sugar | pinch |
| neutral oil (sunflower or grapeseed) | 3 tablespoons |
| Vogerlsalat (lamb's lettuce)washed and dried | 150g |
| Steirisches Kürbiskernöl g.g.A. | 4 tablespoons |
| white wine vinegar | 1 tablespoon |
| roasted pumpkin seeds (Kürbiskerne) | handful |
| lemon wedges (optional) | for serving |
Put the potatoes in a pot of cold salted water, bring to a boil, and cook until a knife slides through without resistance, about twenty to twenty-five minutes depending on size. You want them tender but not falling apart. Drain them and let them sit just long enough that you can handle them. Peel while still warm and slice into rounds about half a centimeter thick. Warm potatoes absorb the dressing. Cold potatoes just sit there wearing it on the outside. This is the single most important thing about Austrian potato salad.
Lay the warm potato slices in a wide, shallow bowl. Scatter the finely diced onion over them. Heat the beef broth until it's properly hot, not warm, hot. Whisk together the Apfelessig, mustard, pinch of sugar, a good amount of salt, pepper, and the neutral oil. Pour the hot broth over the potatoes first and let it soak in for two minutes. Then pour the vinegar dressing over. Toss very gently with your hands or a soft spatula. You're not making a stir-fry. Let the dressed potatoes sit at room temperature while you prepare everything else. They need at least fifteen minutes to absorb the dressing and develop that glossy, creamy quality that Austrian Erdäpfelsalat is known for.
Place each chicken breast between two sheets of cling film and pound gently with a rolling pin or meat mallet until they're an even thickness, about one centimeter throughout. You're not making Schnitzel-thin here. You want the chicken thick enough to stay juicy inside while the crust turns golden. Season both sides generously with salt and pepper.
Set up three shallow dishes. Flour in the first, beaten egg in the second, fine breadcrumbs in the third. Dredge each chicken breast in flour, shake off the excess (this matters, excess flour makes the coating gummy), dip through the egg, letting any extra drip off, then press into the breadcrumbs. Coat both sides evenly but don't pack the crumbs tight. You want a loose, shaggy coating that will puff and turn wavy in the hot fat, just like a proper Wiener Schnitzel.
Heat clarified butter or neutral oil in a wide, heavy pan. You need enough fat that the chicken floats in at least a centimeter of it. If the chicken sits on the dry bottom of the pan, the crust won't puff and you'll get flat, greasy breading instead of golden, wavy breading. Test the oil by dropping in a small piece of bread. It should sizzle immediately and turn golden in about thirty seconds. Slide in the chicken breasts, no more than two at a time so you don't crowd the pan and drop the temperature. Fry for three to four minutes per side until deep golden brown and cooked through. Spoon hot fat over the top while frying if the oil doesn't quite cover the surface. Lift onto a wire rack, not paper towels. Paper towels trap moisture against the crust and you lose that crunch within minutes.
Wash the Vogerlsalat gently in cold water. These tiny rosettes trap grit in their roots, so dunk them properly and lift them out of the water rather than pouring the water off. Dry them in a salad spinner or on a clean tea towel. In a small bowl, whisk together the white wine vinegar, a pinch of salt, and one tablespoon of the Kernöl. Toss the Vogerlsalat in this dressing just before you're ready to plate. Don't dress it early. It wilts fast.
Spoon the warm dressed potatoes onto the center of each plate. Arrange the dressed Vogerlsalat around and on top. Slice the hot chicken breasts into thick diagonal strips and lay them over the salad, letting some strips lean against the potatoes. Drizzle the remaining Kernöl generously over everything: the chicken, the greens, the potatoes. The oil should pool in dark green ribbons across the plate. Scatter roasted pumpkin seeds over the top. Add a lemon wedge to each plate for anyone who wants a squeeze of brightness over the chicken. Serve immediately while the chicken is still crackling and the potatoes are still warm. Mahlzeit!
1 serving (about 420g)
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