Surschnitzel (Cured Pork Cutlet)

Every Gasthaus in Salzburg has Surschnitzel on the board. Not in the specials, not as a seasonal feature. On the board, permanently, because taking it off would cause a small uprising. This is the Schnitzel Austrians actually eat during the week. Not veal, not expensive, not reserved for Sunday lunch. Cured pork, breaded and fried, with warm potato salad and maybe a cold beer if the day earned it.

The "Sur" in Surschnitzel means the pork has been cured, brined in salt and spices until the meat turns rosy pink all the way through and develops a gentle tang you won't get from fresh pork. It's the same curing tradition behind Surfleisch, the boiled cured pork that's been feeding Austrian families through long winters for centuries. When you bread and fry that cured meat, something wonderful happens. The salt in the cure seasons the Schnitzel from the inside, so every bite has flavor right to the center. Fresh pork can't do that.

I grew up eating Surschnitzel at Gasthäuser on our annual trips through the Salzkammergut with Gretel and my grandmother Eva. It was the dish you ordered when you were hungry and didn't want to think too hard about it. The plate would arrive, golden and generous, overlapping the edges of the dish, with a mound of Erdäpfelsalat glistening beside it. Nobody took a photograph. Everybody ate. That's how you know a dish has earned its place.

The technique is straightforward. Pound the cured pork thin, run it through the classic Viennese breading (flour, egg, breadcrumbs, in that order, always in that order), and fry it in enough clarified butter that the Schnitzel floats. The coating puffs and turns wavy and golden. The meat inside stays juicy because the cure has already done the work of seasoning and tenderizing. This is good Austrian home cooking at its most honest.