Weißwurstsalat

Weißwurstsalat belongs to Bavaria after the morning rule has already been broken. Weißwurst is Munich food, tied to the second breakfast, the Weißwurstfrühstück, with sweet mustard, a Breze, and a wheat beer if the day allows it. The old rule says the sausage shouldn't hear the noon bell. Fine. Then the cooked ones left from the morning become salad. Weggeworfen wird nichts.

The regions don't agree on sausage salad, and they shouldn't. In Swabia and Baden, Wurstsalat often means Lyoner or Regensburger cut into strips, sharper vinegar, sometimes cheese near the Swiss border. In Munich I keep the Bavarian centre: peeled Weißwurst, sweet mustard in the dressing, onion, chives, radish, no cheese. Das ist kein Bierzelt. It's a Brotzeit, the bread-time snack table, made properly.

The make-or-break is simple: peel the sausages cold and soften the onion in vinegar before it touches the veal. The casing is fine in the morning water, but cold it turns rubbery and blocks the dressing. Raw onion thrown straight in will bully the mild sausage; ten minutes in vinegar takes off the burn and gives the dressing its first seasoning. Then fold, don't mash. This is a salad, not mortar.

Serve it cold, not refrigerator-dead, with a torn Breze and more sweet mustard at the side. Würzen, Fett, Salz zum Schluss. Taste before you salt, because the sausage and mustard have already spoken.