Note: The ? marks sprinkled in the text below are artifacts of how the NY Times article got saved to my computer. Your guess is as good as mine as to how the ? should be translated. Sorry ...
Fifty-odd years ago, the journalist Joseph Wechsberg introduced many Americans to the pleasures of Austro-Hungarian food, but somehow the cuisine faded in the shadow of French cooking. Such fare may not quite be trendy these days, but it has at last gained a certain gravity and visibility, thanks largely to Kurt Gutenbrunner, the New York City chef and restaurateur. He recently added Blaue Gans, a fifth, more casual restaurant with German leanings, to his collection of Wallsé, Café Sabarsky, Café Fledermaus and Thor. Unlike David Bouley, whose well-regarded Danube plays with certain Austro-Hungarian dishes, Gutenbrunner makes it his mission to introduce fusion-minded customers to such unadulterated classics as kavalierspitz (boiled beef served with apple horseradish, potatoes and creamed spinach). "I cook it the same way every single day," he said. "This is what classical musicians do: they play a classic well, doing it over and over again the right way." The truth is, Americans might not recognize his masterly technique. They need a little tutorial in the Austro-Hungarian culinary canon ? the schnitzels, spaetzles, goulashes and all those astounding pastries. For them, there is still no better English-language guide than Wechsberg.
"His writing about food, and music, was so unbelievably precise, you couldn't argue with it," said George Lang, Wechsberg's friend and collaborator on "The Cooking of Vienna's Empire," a 1968 entry in the Time-Life Foods of the World series. But, he added, "I never heard his name mentioned in the last 15 years." Wechsberg, who died in 1983, also profiled truffle hunters, waiters, musicians, bankers and silversmiths, all of whom shared his affinity for flawlessness.
Born in 1907 to a Jewish banking family, Wechsberg enjoyed the last days
of the Hapsburg dynasty in haut bourgeois comfort. Although he grew up
in the Moravian Czech town of Ostrava, his cultural beacon was Vienna,
which it remained until his death. Wechsberg's father died in battle in
1914, and the family lost its money. The young Wechsberg earned a Czech
law degree but also spent time in Paris living la vie bohème, playing
violin in Montmartre dives, at the Folies-Bergère and eventually on
French cruise ships. As a young man, he worked many jobs ? lawyer,
soldier, croupier, journalist ? before coming to the United States in
1938, the year that Hitler
Wechsberg began writing again, reporting in his newfound language for
magazines like The New Yorker and Gourmet on cultural and historical
matters but with a particular keenness for music ? and food. In "Blue
Trout and Black Truffles," which is still in print, and "Dining at the
Pavillon" (available through Web sites like Alibris.com
The Time-Life book was his most populist. (Unlike his other works, it
came with recipes.) Wechsberg's Vienna was crowded with many of the
dishes that Gutenbrunner loyally serves today: strudel with dough as
thin as onionskin, Wiener schnitzels so greaseless you could sit on them
without a stain, painstakingly layered doboschtorten (spongecakes) and
piles upon piles of whipped cream, or schlagobers.
Wechsberg sometimes displayed a stubborn nostalgia, and he could be a
snob. Plenty of his restaurant essays cast a disparaging eye on ugly
Americans or Communist Party officials who failed to appreciate a chef's
talents. No matter how much money or power such diners had, they lacked
the finesse of those at one Viennese restaurant he frequented: "The
guests of Meissl & Schadn were thoroughly familiar with the physical
build of a steer and knew the exact anatomical location of Kügerls,
Scherzls and Schwanzls," he wrote. "Precision was the keynote. You
didn't merely order 'boiled beef' ? you wouldn't step into Tiffany's and
ask for 'a stone' ? but made it quite clear exactly what you wanted."
Although the world wars and Soviet rule in Eastern Europe devastated his
homeland, Wechsberg did not tend to engage in politics in his writing.
Instead his stories reflected the fragility of his world in the
underappreciated, evanescent performances of cooks and musicians,
marking a preference for ephemeral delights like schlagobers and arias
that may have been the worldly Wechsberg's most Viennese trait: "The
Viennese put up a beautiful monument to Johann Strauss, who makes them
forget," he wrote, "but no monument at all to Sigmund Freud, who makes
them remember." Much as Gutenbrunner does in his kitchens, Wechsberg
fashioned his own monuments: it's as if by cataloging all 24 varieties
of boiled beef served at Meissl & Schadn and the many varieties of
dumplings patted out by Czech housewives, he could quietly obscure some
of history's cruel sweep. Today his remembrances of schnitzels past seem
more timely than ever.
NOTE: To make a Liptauer dip, stir an extra ¼ cup sour cream into the
paste. Pour into a serving bowl and sprinkle with chives. Serve with
crudites.
/Serves 4. Recipes adapted from "The Cooking of Vienna's Empire," by
Joseph Wechsberg, part of the Time-Life Foods of the World series./
Liptauer Cheese
Transylvanian Goulash
Sara Dickerman is a cook and writer living in Seattle.