Kaiserschmarrn

A full day after the Vikings' latest heart-wrenching loss, allow me to share with you an Austrian breakfast recipe that made for a therapeutic morning meal.

I could still feel the agony in my throat. And in my stomach. And in my chest, a little left of center. But like I said previously, with the Vikings it had happened to me three times before, and those are just the NFC championship games. I can't even imagine what it must have been like for the faithful watching all those Super Bowl losses in the 1970s. The Vikings have to be the most successful football team that has never won anything of significance. I would've even been happy with just making it to the Super Bowl and losing to the Colts. That would've at least been a new accomplishment for me. No one remembers who loses in the conference championship game, except, that is, for those ill-fated fans like me, who, in their stupid loyalty - or their loyal stupidity - are condemned never to forget.

But let me get to the point of this post - something i think you'll all appreciate: Kaiserschmarrn (I'll explain). Because i had to stay up late to watch the game (until 5am), I decided in advance that I'd take Monday morning off, sleep in, and make myself Kaiserschmarrn for breakfast. I had purchased all the ingredients, and woke up around 11, but was still so haunted by the game that my appetite was crushed and there was no point in making the 'Schmarrn. (I think the line from The Killers' song "Mr. Brightside" captures the feeling as well as anything: "and my stomach is sick"). So i went to Cafe Da Vinci for a coffee and got on with my miserable day.

This morning, however, I made Kaiserschmarrn. I ate all of it, and it was glorious. If you don't know Kaiserschmarrn as of yet, I implore you to make its acquaintance. I learned it from my Austrian roommate in 2007-08. If you like crepes, delicious Polish naleśniki, or any other breakfast food made from batter, you absolutely need to try it. (Joel, I'm terribly sorry that we never discovered this in Vienna. That said, better late than never.)

Basically you make the batter for crepes (milk, flour, egg), throw in some raisins, and perhaps a bit of cinnamon and sugar. Then you dump the entire batter into a heated pan with a bit of butter (as a longtime recipient of my mother's crepes on Saturdays, and later maker of crepes, there's something about dumping all the batter in at once that's unusually exciting), and let it cook on medium for some 6-8 minutes. When the bottom is a bit firm (but the top still runny), cut in fourths and flip. After a minute or so, break into smallish pieces with the spatula and cook until golden-brown. Dust with powdered sugar and eat with whatever (and whomever) you please.

On this particular morning I opted for slices of kiwi, banana, and mandarin oranges. And I shared...with myself. I'll admit I had to use the restroom half way through, but I did finish the pan like a freaking champion. I felt like a sophomore girl who was dumped by her "bf" and was now taking it out on a half-gallon of rocky road. And alas, all that heavenly fruit and batter has been pure therapy - helping me to forget about the Vikings and all their fumbles.

In any case, Kaiserschmarrn is nice because you don't have to constantly tend to your crepes on the stove, trying to eat as you cook them one by one - or let them get cold before serving. In essence, it's like cooking one giant crepe with all the batter you have. There are several creative stories as to the origin of the dish, but I like to imagine the Austrians receiving from the French a recipe for crepes in exchange for Marie Antoinette, and that, impatiently, they simply dumped all the batter in at once and cooked it. But lest the French find that too amusing, they should recall that it was the Austrians who first made the croissant - a symbol of the crescent moon to commemorate the defense of Vienna from the Ottoman Turks in 1683.

So huge props to the Viennese for croissants and Kaiserschmarrn. And I hope everyone in New Orleans' French Quarter has a nasty hangover this morning.