Carnevale … farewell to meat. Properly interpreted, this Italian expression meant: Enjoy your meat while you may, Shrovetide is nearer than you think. The carnivorous and pleasure-loving Viennese took the idea very much to heart. If they were going to fast and abstain for forty days after Shrove Tuesday, they would certainly feast and enjoy themselves for forty days before. By starting their carnival on Epiphany, January sixth, they could link it with the last of the Christmas festivities, and even the earliest Easter gave them ample time for the enjoyment of meat and all the masks, merriment, and mischief that went with the festive occasion.
In Venice, the mother city of the carnival, they had long ago condensed their celebrating to three or four days, but not in Vienna. Every Viennese was a born Vercinsmeyer, a joiner, and every society, organization, and association to which he belonged felt called upon to give an annual Faschingsball, carnival ball. Every embassy and legation, every trade and profession, even the smallest suburban Klub and Verein—absolutely everybody had to hold a Fest and absolutely everybody else had to go to all of them to see whether he would have missed anything if he had stayed away. Some of the old Vereine had almost no real existence except for their actively functioning Ballkomitee. The Sezission, modern museum, tried to outdo the Künstlerhaus, the Philharmonic vied with the Musikverein. Each group competed with all the others in going completely mad.
Herr and Frau Baronin, unrecognizable in various costumes, enjoyed every minute of it. When several panics fell on the same evening, they did not choose which one to attend, but only which one to attend first. If the second and third were less amusing than the first, they went back to the first and returned to the others later to see whether these had improved. There was plenty of time, the night was long, no self-respecting Faschings reveler ever came home before sunrise, and it was a matter of honor to eat breakfast at a corner kiosk with the poor benighted creatures who started their day in the morning. Breakfast during carnevale meant meat; it could be half a chicken in noodle soup, a Wiener Würstcben, or Saft Gulyàs, but meat it must be.
Almost all the balls were masquerades, an inheritance from the carnival in Venice. This scheme delighted the Viennese, who could abandon their formalities and conventions the moment they lost their identity behind a slant-eyed black satin mask. As the Fasching progressed, the Viennese came to know a good deal about one another's subconscious. They knew what everybody came as, given the opportunity. The ladies all treated old Doktor Shanta quite differently when they discovered that he always came as Casanova, and no one felt quite the same about the Gräfin Listra after she had appeared for the third time as Lady Godiva. The Prinzessin Hohenhof always came as anything that would show off her legs, and the pale and retiring Prinz Lada-Bashanski came as a dynamic Mephisropheles, no matter what the occasion.
Herr Baron was never quite certain what he secretly wanted to be: He was not inclined to the toreadors, troubadours, and lion tamers that his friends usually chose, and he rejected the friars and clowns that hid the less imaginative men. In the end, he usually went as something that didn't clash with his mustache or as something that clashed with it completely—the Winslow Boy or Hans im Glück. He was always happiest when he went as Augustine, the unconquerable spirit of Vienna. On sight of him every pretty Maske sang “Acb, du lieber Augustime, ” and off they would waltz together. Frau Baronin was naturally the shepherdess and dirndl type, she was given to powdered wigs and crinolines, but she made herself completely unrecognizable by adopting costumes that even her closest friends would not have suspected her of. She spent the entire Fasebing happily disguised as Pocahontas, Minnehaha Laughingwasser, or Amelia Bloomer.
Maskenfreibeit, freedom of the masks, meant that perfect strangers could speak, dance, flirt, and even fall in love without the inhibiting obstacle of knowing each other. When Herr Baron went as a mustachioed early Christian martyr, he found himself inclined to dance with slave girls, goddesses, and an irreproachable Pompeia, whom he found, ill-matched, dancing with Lord Beaconsfield. He had always to keep a masked eye out for the tall feather on Minnehaha's head, as she was besieged by attentions from all explorers and discoverers, and in particular by a rather stout white-haired gentleman. Having come simply as a diplomat in full dress, he pocketed his red ribbon and changed his character into Long-fellow at sight of Frau Baronin's lovely red-tinted legs.
At one time the Viennese Fasching was further enhanced and crowned by two great court balls. The aristocracy, the army, the diplomacy, and the famous were asked to the indescribably gay and colorful Hofball. The Ball Bei Huf was an entirely different matter and much less fun for the old Emperor. It was attended only by the highest diplomats and ministers, the top statesmen and generals, and those members of the airstocracy who were descended from an unbroken line of sixteen aristocratic grandmothers—eight on each side;the ninth could have been a nobody. Needless to say, the Ball Bei Hof had a very small attendance: Sixteen evenly divided great-great-grandmothers with coronets were hard to come by. The Fiaker drivers' and the laundrymaids' balls were the gayest of them all, although, having survived the war, they suffered from the advent of the taxi and the washing machine.
Through all the festivities—the waltzing and the polkas, the parties and the masquerades—everyone ate Faschingskrapfen, the light Viennese carnival doughnuts. To Frau Baron in the word meant doom. Her mother-in-law descended upon her each year for the sole purpose of baking Faschingskrapfen for her Goldpfoterdl, little golden paw, her only child, the Herr Baron. The old Baroness regarded this invasion as her annual maternal duty and generously allowed a full week for what would have taken Resi a day. Besides her baking paraphernalia, she brought along six evening dresses so that she could indulge her passion for the opera after the long days in the kitchen. The repertoire could always be relied upon to include Romeo and Juliet, The Damnation of Faust, and Rienzi, all of which Herr Baron disliked intensely. Most of all he dislike giving up any part of the Fatching festivities. After dutifully taking the old Baroness to late supper, everyone retired with yawns and clear signs of fatigue. Half an hour later Minnehaha and Der Lieber Augustine departed, shoes in hand, to catch up with the Fatching revelers. They had to leave the festivities earlier than usual so that Frau Baronin could appear rested and relaxed, without a moment's sleep, to help the old Baroness with the baking.
Resi, who invariably gave notice during the visit, could make very respectable Fascbingskrapfen herself, but to the old Baroness they were like lead, like a child's mud pies. The white band—the all-important unbrowned band that showed they had floated properly in the far—was too narrow, the size and color I were mediocre. The filling was uneatable, the yeast was too strong, the fat was just a shade—shall we say—rancid, and the eggs perhaps a day too old. They had obviously been sugared too early or not early enough, they were heavy, they were solid, they were bourgeois, they lacked refinement. In fact, they were a complete failure and not good enough for her beloved little golden paw.
The Baroness came from Bohemia, where she played the role of a sort of dowager carp in an elegant little artificial lake. The constant adulation of all the little fishes had made her into a domineering old lady, and one convinced that she could not do anything less than perfect, especially when she descended into her son's Viennese kitchen to bake Fascbingskrapfen.
Sometime between Saint Sylvester's Eve and Epiphany, Frau Baronin and poor Resi had to have the kitchen painted, the copper polished, the stove blackened, and the stone floor ground. The beautiful old Meissen canisters had to be emptied and refilled. Sugar, farina, flour, everything had to be sifted and strained; if there had been a single lump in anything, the old Baroness would have found it.
For the children, January sixth meant the taking down of the Christmas tree and the arrival of their grandmother, a combination so depressing that they hid in the linen closet or under their beds.
The irony of the baking was that the old Baroness actually did nothing while Frau Baronin and Resi did all the work. She commandeered and directed, made noises and criticized, she played the general and, when it was all over, she took the credit and praise.
After the old Baroness left, Herr and Frau Baronin returned to the carnival, to the eating of Fascbingskrapfen, and to the “enjoyment of meat.” Work was neglected, the Viennese became a little pale and hollow-eyed, but time for penance lay ahead. Even the longest Fasching, which would not come until anno Domini MMXXXVIII, would give the only sixty-three nights to dance through.
Spanferkel (Roast Suckling Pig)
Wash and dry a suckling pig and rub the interior with salt and 1 teaspoon caraway seed. Sauté 2 pounds sauerkraut for 10 minutes with 1/2 cup butter, 1 onion, chopped, and 1/2 teaspoon caraway seed, and add 2 apples, peeled, cored, and chopped. Fill the cavity with this stuffing.
Lay the pig on a rack, or across two wooden spoons, in large pan. Cover the ears and tail with little envelopes of buttered brown paper and place a wooden plug in the mouth. Soak the rind from 1/2-pound piece of unsliced bacon in 1 1/2 cups beer and place it near the stove. Roast the suckling pig in a moderate oven (350° F.) for 1 1/2 to 2 hours depending on its size, or until it is golden brown, rubbing it every 10 minutes with the beer-soaked bacon. Uncover the ears and tail, replace the wooden plug with a small apple, and serve the pig on a bed of water cress.
Pour all superfluous fat from the roasting pan and stir in 3 tablespoons flour and 2 cups strong stock. Stir the gravy over low heat until it comes to a boil, strain it, and serve it with the suckling pig. Accompany the pig with potato dumplings (November, 1958).
Wiener Saft Gulyàs (Viennese Goulash)
Crush together 2 teaspoons marjoram, 1 teaspoon each of caraway seed and finely chopped lemon rind, and 1 clove of garlic. In a large kettle combine 3/4 cup butter, 1 tablespoon tomato paste, and the crushed seasonings. Add 2 pounds onions, sliced, and saute them, stirring constantly, until they are golden. Add 1 tablespoon sweet Hungarian paprika and cook the onions, stirring constantly, for half a minute more. Add 2 pounds beef—chuck, rump, or round—cut into large uniform chunks, 1 cup water, and salt to taste. Cover the kettle tightly, and simmer the beef until it is tender, about 1 1/2 hours. Add a little more water during cooking only if necessary. Just before the goulash is done, add 1/2 cup water and let the gravy boil up once. If a moister goulash is preferred, sprinkle it with 1/4 cup flour just before the water is added at the end and add 1 cup water.
Serve the goulash with Späzle (February, 1958), noodles, or boiled potatoes. In Hungary, this gulyàs is served with slivered green peppers strewn over the top.
Krapfen (Doughunts)
Scald 2 cups milk, add 1/4 cup sugar and 1 teaspoon salt, and cool the milk to lukewarm. Dissolve 1 package yeast in 1/4 cup lukewarm water. Pour the scalded milk mixture into a large bowl, add the yeast, 4 cups sifted flour, 1/4 cup oil, and 2 eggs, and stir the mixture well with a wooden spoon. Acd 3 more cups flour and beat and stir the dough until it is smooth and comes away from the sides of the bowl. Cover the dough and let it rise in warm place until it doubles in bulk, about 1 1/2 hours.
Turn the dough onto a well-floured board, roll it out 1/2 inch thick, and cut it into rounds 2 inches in diameter. Place 1 teaspoon strawberry jam on half the rounds, cover them with the remaining rounds, and pinch the edges together. Cut through the two rounds together with a slightly smaller cutter, to seal the edges. Lay the rounds on a floured cloth, cover them with a warm cloth, and let them rise for 1/2 hour.
Fry the Krapfen, a few at a time, in deep hot fat (375° F.) at least 3 inches deep until they are golden brown, turning them once. Drain the Krapfen, sprinkle them with confectioners' sugar, and serve them warm. Makes about 24 Krapfen.
Wiener Faschingskrapfen (Viennese Carnival Doughnuts)
In a large bowl, dissolve 3 packages yeast in 3/4 cup lukewarm water and stir in 1 cup flour to make a sponge. Let the sponge rise in a warm place for 1/2 hour, or until it doubles in bulk.
In a saucepan combine 1 1/2 cups milk, 1/2 cup butter, 1/4 cup sugar, 4 eggs, the zest of 1 lemon, and a pinch of salt, and stir the mixture over very low heat until the butter is just melted. Cool the mixture and add it to the sponge. Add 4 cups flour, working it in with a wooden spoon until the dough is smooth. Add 3 more cups flour and continue to work the dough until it comes away from the sides of the bowl. The dough must be light and not too stiff. Add a little milk if it is too stiff, or flour if it seems too soft. Turn the dough onto a well-floured board and roll it out 1/2 inch thick, handling it as little as possible. Cut the rolled dough into an even number of rounds, each 2 inches in diameter.
The best filling is rose hip conserve, which should be used unthinned. Or thin 1 cup apricot jam with 1/4 cup apricot brandy. Place 1 teaspoon filling on each of half the rounds and cover them with the remaining rounds. Press the edges down very gently and cut through the two rounds together with a slightly smaller cutter, to seal the edges. Lay the filled rounds on a floured cloth, cover them with a warm cloth, and let them rise for 1 hour, or until they double in bulk.
Fry the Krapfen in deep hot fat (375° F.) until they are golden, about 10 minutes. Turn them and fry them until they are golden on the other side, from 6 to 8 minutes. Makes 24 to 28 Krapfen.
Spritzkrapfen (Puffed Doughnuts)
In a large skillet (do not use an enamel pan), bring to a boil 1 1/8 cups milk, 1/2 cup butter, 1 tablespoon sugar, and a pinch of salt, and let the mixture boil until the butter is just melted. Remove the pan from the heat and add 1 1/4 cups sifted flour all at once, mixing it in quickly. Return the pan to the heat and cook the dough, stirring constantly, for 5 to 8 minutes. The dough must cook even after it leaves the sides of the pan. Turn the dough into a bowl, let it cool slightly, and beat in 6 eggs, one at a time, mixing thoroughly.
Using the largest fluted tube of a pastry bag, pipe the dough in rounds or figure eights onto well-greased heavy paper. Carefully turn the paper over and drop it into deep hot fat (370° P.). The piped Krapfen will loosen and the paper can be removed. Fry the Krapfen for 6 to 8 minutes. They will turn themselves over as soon as one side is done. Skim them from the fat with a Slotted spoon, sprinkle them with powdered sugar, and serve them hot, with warm vanilla sauce. Makes 18 Spritzkrapfen.
Vanilla Sauce
With a wooden spoon cream 1/3 cup sugar well with 2 or 3 egg yolks. Stir in 1 teaspoon flour. Scald 1 1/2 cups milk with a small piece of vanilla bean and add the milk little by little to the egg yolk mixture, stirring well. Return the mixture to the pan and cook it over very low heat, stirring constantly, until it almost reaches the boiling point. Remove the vanilla bean and strain the sauce. Cool it, stirring it vigorously at first and then occasionally, to prevent a crust from forming.
Keneval Gold Nudeln (Golden Noodle Nest)
Mix to a smooth paste 4 cups flour, 1/4 cup milk, 8 egg yolks, 2 whole eggs, 1/2 teaspoon vanilla, and a pinch of salt. If the eggs are small, it may be necessary to add a little more milk. Divide the dough in half and roll it out very thin. Let the two pieces dry for 15 minutes. Cut one piece into “noodles” 8 inches long and 1/4 inch wide. Cut the other piece into “noodles” 8 inches long and 1/8 inch wide. Boil the wider strips in salted water for 15 to 20 minutes and drain them well Fry the thinner strips in deep hot fat (375° F.) for about 10 minutes, or until they are golden, and drain them well, Shake the boiled strips with 3 tablespoons butter, arrange a layer of them on a serving platter, and sprinkle them with sugar and hazelnuts, chopped and browned with butter in a very slow oven (250° P.). Arrange a layer of fried strips on the nuts and sprinkle them with more sugar and nuts. Repeat the layers, to form a mound, until all the strips are used, sprinkling each layer with additional sugar and nuts. Use about 3/4 cup each of sugar and nuts. In the top of a double boiler, over gently boiling water, beat together 1/2 cup each of white wine and sugar, 3 egg yolks, 6 tablespoons melted butter, and a squeeze of lemon juice until the sauce is foamy. This will take about 5 minutes with an electric beater. Pour the sauce over the strips on the serving platter, and serve at once. Serves 8.
Schlosserbuben(Prune Fritters)
Gradually stir 2 cups white wine into 2 cups flour, add a pinch of salt, and set the batter aside. Drain 1 pound cooked prunes, about 36. The prunes should not be too soft. Substitute a blanched almond for each prune pit and skewer each prune with a wooden pick to secure the almond. Dip the prunes in the wine batter. Fry them at once in deep hot fat (370° F.) until they are golden brown. Drain the prunes on absorbent paper and roll them in a mixture of 1/2 cup each of grated sweet chocolate and sugar. Serve the prunes on the picks,
Karneval Pudding (Chestnut Pudding)
Cut crosses on the flat sides of 1 pound chestnuts and heat the nuts in a moderate oven (350° F.) for 8 to 10 minutes, or until the edges of the shells have rolled back and are brittle. Peel the nuts and boil them with 1/2 cup sugar in water to cover until they are soft, about 20 minutes. Pull off any remaining inner shells and rice the chestnuts, setting aside 1/2 cup riced chestnuts for later use. Stir into the chestnuts 6 tablespoons butter, 1/2 cup sugar, 4 egg yolks, and 2 tablespoons cocoa. Add 1/3 cup flour and fold in 4 stiffly beaten egg whites. Pour the mixture into a well-buttered pudding mold, cover the mold, and steam the pudding in a covered kettle of boiling water 3/4 hour. The water should reach halfway up the mold. Unmold the pudding and pour over it a mixture of 1/2 cup apricot jam heated with 1/2 cup heavy rum. Sprinkle the reserved 1/2 cup riced chestnuts over the pudding.