It was a game-changer: a tightly knitted cotton jersey rather than a knobbly woollen jumper.
‘Snitchil’ night was a highlight during my childhood and judging by the volume of ready-made versions available at grocery stores, it’s still a go-to family favourite in our part of the world. But ‘schnitzel’ where I grew up can be used to describe just about anything coated in chunky breadcrumbs that’s popped in the oven for convenience and, more often than not, smothered in cheese sauce.
So perhaps it’s a good thing that as children we never quite got the pronunciation right because Schnitzel is something quite specific. As a German word (in a cooking context) it translates as ‘cutlet’ or ‘escalope’, which I learned by ordering a Jägerschnitzel in southern Germany expecting crumbs. What arrived was a flattened piece of pork cooked in a pan and served with creamy mushroom sauce.
Now I check for ‘Wiener’ in the description to be sure it’s the breaded kind. In Germany pork is common, whether it’s topside pounded thin or a slice of fillet or boneless loin chop. And challenging any ideas that it has to be a lean cut is Nobelhart & Schmutzig – a lauded values-driven restaurant near Checkpoint Charlie, working with ingredients sourced strictly in or around Berlin.
Their Fettschnitzel is a celebration of eight-week matured pork from the leg, rich with melty, jelly-like fat under a crisp coat of sourdough origins, served with verjus-seasoned mayonnaise made with lard from the same pig: one that was raised on Erdhof Seewalde, a farm in the south of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern. It also puts the focus firmly on the quality, flavour, and provenance of the meat – rather than hiding behind a golden pocket of crowd-pleasing crumbs.
For us a key difference between the Snitchils we grew up with and a Schnitzel Viennese-style (besides the unbridled use of chicken) is how fine the breadcrumbs are. As we discovered one unforgettable lunchtime in Berlin at a brasserie called Borchardt, just off the Gendarmenmarkt in the centre of the city.
As much an institution as a restaurant, Borchardt could easily be a film set for a pre-war period piece. At the time it had a reputation for attracting celebs and politicos. So much so, there was a little box on top of the menu saying, ‘please don’t take pictures of other guests. Respect their privacy’. We went for the undoubted speciality of the house: Wiener Schnitzel.
It arrived in a bubbled, brown blanket of breadcrumbs, the edges extending beyond the plate. Sides were to the point: a lemon wedge and potato salad. The meat was hammered extraordinarily flat and the crust, in places risen like a souffle so that it both housed and hugged the meat, was an equally thin, crisp mesh of far finer crumbs than any Snitchil I’d ever eaten. It was a game-changer: a tightly knitted cotton jersey rather than a knobbly woollen jumper.
I was halfway through before I realised mid-slice, as I looked over Nikki’s right shoulder, that sitting behind a marble pillar on a burgundy velvet banquette was in fact a Vienna-born actor who played in Inglourious Basterds. The Austrian capital had a strong presence in the room, but thanks to Berlin we’ll never look at Schnitzel in the same way again.
Three key moves
1. Make fairly fine crumbs. More importantly, they must be evenly sized which is why I always use a sieve when making them. When you use fine crumbs, the way they blend with the egg mixture creates a coating rather than a layer of crumbs.
2. Hammer out the meat extremely thin. I do it by putting slices of meat between two pieces of cling film and gently beating with a rolling pin until it’s about 5mm thick. Baking paper also works, but with cling film, you can see what’s going on and it also makes for easier handling of the individual schnitzels. Again, uniformity is the key. This not only gives it the required texture, but as the meat cooks it will shrink a little and that’s what helps the crust ripple and bubble up from the surface.
3. Season the eggs not the flour. Season the egg mixture with mustard, salt and pepper so the mustard creates a creamy wash that covers the whole schnitzel and the seasoning sticks to the surface rather than falling off with the excess flour.
The meat
Using the same method you can get great results with chicken breasts, beef fillet, and a variety of pork cuts, like topside, tenderloin or deboned loin. As long as the cut is top quality, preferably sustainably farmed by a producer who cares. For those pictured here, we used pork silverside from Lowerland regenerative farm near Prieska in the Northen Cape.
The crumbs
We make crumbs from Nikki’s homebaked wheat sourdough loaf, and importantly not with any of the crust, just the inner part of the loaf. Toasted crumbs tend to overdo and turn too dark while the white crumbs will fry up golden (so use the low-temperature oven-drying method in the link below). If you do use ready-made crumbs, just crumble them in your fingertips before putting them through a sieve.
The egg mixture
The amount of egg mixture required will depend on how many schnitzels you’re making, but in general, I prefer to use two eggs at least to make things easier. Either way, the ratio is:
1 extra large egg : 15ml Dijon mustard : 5ml fine sea salt : 5ml white pepper
We have also had great results using just egg white (a technique I learned to make the best Bitterballen ever!) and if you do that, you can always add a tablespoon of cream to get the right coating consistency and richness the yolk would usually provide.
Shallow frying
You need to fill a high-sided frying pan with about 1.5cm of vegetable oil or, better still, a high-heat blend, normally containing canola oil. Butter will burn too quickly, but clarified butter is a luxurious option (if resources allow) that will only elevate flavour.
You’re good to go when the oil reaches 175°C. The oil temperature will drop as you start to fry, but as long as you land up somewhere around the 165°C mark, you’re in business. If you don’t have a thermometer, drop some dry crumbs in to the oil and if they sizzle up immediately, you’re in the ballpark.
I like to make a few little crash-test-schnitzels to make sure everything’s good to go. What you’re looking for is a golden brown exterior, so it might take some experimentation to get it right.
How to do it
Preheat an oven to 50°C and set a cake rack on top of a baking sheet lined with paper towel. You are going to be prepping and frying the schnitzels one at a time. If you prepare them in a batch and allow them to sit, the coating will stick to the surface and jeopardise the ‘soufflé’ effect. So do them individually and then keep them warm in the oven. They will keep their crisp texture remarkably well if you use the cake rack technique.
Prepare a production line. First a plate with a healthy half cup or so of sifted flour. In the middle, have a shallow bowl with the egg mixture. And then a second plate full of breadcrumbs.
Drop a schnitzel onto the flour plate, wiggle it around, turn it over and make sure to get a nice even coating of flour, flapping it gently to shake off excess. I do this with my hands.
Carefully slide the floured schnitzel into the egg mixture and then, using a fork or two toothpicks (I use two tiny little metal skewers used for fastening Beef Olives) turn the schnitzel over to coat the other side. Avoid using your hands: you’ll end up crumbing your fingers which makes things very messy. Again, the secret is an even coating with no visible dry spots.
Lift out the schnitzel, allowing excess egg to drip off and then drape it onto the crumb plate. Turn it over, pressing down a little and scattering more crumb over the top until you have a good even coating of crumbs.
Now slip the schnitzel into the oil. Insert it vertically at the front of the pan and then carefully drape it away from yourself in case any oil spits up. It should start sizzling immediately around the edges.
Using a pair of tongs, and again always working away from yourself, gently spoon some of the surrounding oil over the top of the schnitzel. After a minute or so, turn the schnitzel over and repeat the process on the other side. You should start to see the surface ‘soufflé’ in places i.e. bubble up a bit. Now turn it over again and check to see how it’s doing. You are looking for a golden brown finish, so keep going about a minute per side until it looks good to you.
Gently remove the schnitzel with the tongs, let any excess oil drip off, place on the cake rack and keep warm in the oven.
For the breadcrumb method with video, click the link below.