Skip to content
Recipes

All recipes

Vegetarian, or something you can't eat? Set your diet once and we'll hide recipes that don't fit.

Bratkartoffeln

Bratkartoffeln are the potatoes of every German pub and home kitchen, from Hamburg to Munich: yesterday's boiled potatoes sliced and fried slowly in a heavy pan until the edges are crisp and brown, then tossed with onion. They come with fried eggs, pickled herring, Sülze or a green salad, and many cooks add bacon cubes; this version stays vegetarian with butter, onion and marjoram. The mistake everyone makes is stirring too often and crowding the pan: the slices steam instead of crisping. Chef's tip: use waxy potatoes boiled in their skins the day before; cold, firm slices hold their shape and brown far better than fresh ones.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Senfeier

Senfeier is a dish many people who grew up in Berlin, Saxony or anywhere in the old East remember from school canteens and Friday suppers: halved hard-boiled eggs in a smooth, pale mustard sauce, with boiled or mashed potatoes to soak it up. It is cheap, fast and comforting, and the sauce is a simple butter-and-flour roux loosened with stock and milk, then sharpened with two kinds of mustard. A common mistake is boiling the sauce hard after the mustard goes in, which makes it taste flat and grainy; add it off the heat. Chef's tip: a spoon of the gherkin pickling liquid at the end lifts the whole sauce.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Schupfnudeln

Schupfnudeln are thick little potato noodles, rolled between the palms into pointed fingers, that turn up at every Christmas market and village festival in Baden-Württemberg, fried in a huge pan with sauerkraut. At home they are a winter supper on their own or a side for roasts. The dough is the same family as gnocchi, but the noodles are boiled first and then fried until browned on the outside. A common mistake is using freshly boiled hot potatoes and too much flour: they need to be cold and dry, so plan to cook them the day before. Chef's tip: rinse the sauerkraut only if it is very sharp; otherwise its tang is what balances the butter.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Finkenwerder Scholle

Finkenwerder was a fishing village on an Elbe island, and the way its fishermen cooked plaice is now Hamburg's signature fish dish, eaten from May to autumn when plaice is plump. A whole fish is dusted and fried in butter, then covered with crisp cubes of smoked pork belly bacon and a handful of tiny brown North Sea shrimps warmed in the same pan, and served with parsley potatoes and cucumber salad. The bacon is pork; leave it out and add capers for a pork-free plate. Chef's tip: score the dark skin side lightly twice so the fish stays flat in the pan and cooks evenly to the bone.

40 minGermanFishGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Spundekäs

In Mainz and the wine villages of Rhine-Hesse, Spundekäs is what lands on the table at a wine festival or in a Straußwirtschaft, the pop-up taverns winemakers open in their courtyards in late summer. It is a light, airy whip of quark and cream cheese, sharpened with onion, garlic and plenty of sweet paprika, and it is scooped up with soft pretzels or Laugenbrezel. The name comes from the cone-shaped wooden 'Spund' it was once pressed into. A common mistake is using watery quark straight from the tub, which makes a runny dip; drain it first. Chef's tip: make it a couple of hours ahead so the onion softens into the cheese, then dust with fresh paprika just before serving.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pellkartoffeln mit Quark und Leinöl

Ask anyone from the Spreewald, the river-and-forest country south-east of Berlin, for the taste of home and many will name this: small potatoes boiled in their skins, a bowl of cold herb quark and a thread of golden, nutty linseed oil poured over the top. It is a weekday supper in Brandenburg and Berlin, cheap, quick and surprisingly filling, often with a Spreewald gherkin on the side. Fresh linseed oil tastes of hay and walnuts; old oil turns bitter and fishy, so buy a small bottle and keep it in the fridge. A common mistake is peeling the potatoes before boiling; cooking them in their skins keeps them firm and flavourful. Chef's tip: beat a splash of milk or sparkling water into the quark, which makes it light and creamy instead of stodgy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pfitzauf

Pfitzauf is a Swabian Sunday-afternoon treat: a thin egg and milk batter poured into a heavy clay or tin mould with deep cups, which rises in the oven like a soufflé and 'pfitzt auf', pops up, far above the rim. Grandmothers on the Swabian Alb served it hot with apple sauce or vanilla sauce, sometimes with stewed cherries. A muffin tin or popover tin works too. The classic mistake is opening the oven during baking: the puffs collapse and never come back. Chef's tip: get the buttered tin really hot in the oven before pouring in the batter; the shock of heat is what makes them climb.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Berliner Kartoffelsuppe

This is the soup of Berlin's cheap lunch counters and winter kitchens: potatoes and the 'Suppengrün' bundle of carrot, celeriac, leek and parsley root, simmered thick and seasoned with plenty of marjoram. In Berlin it usually comes with a sliced Wiener sausage floating on top; this vegetarian version is finished instead with crisp fried onions and croutons, which give the same savoury contrast. A common mistake is using waxy potatoes, which never thicken the soup; you want floury ones that collapse. Chef's tip: rub the dried marjoram between your palms as it goes in, which wakes up its sweet, piney scent.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Thüringer Rostbrätel

In Thuringia, a summer garden party or village fair isn't complete without a Rost, the charcoal grill, loaded with Rostbrätel: pork neck steaks that have spent a night in mustard and plenty of sliced onion. The fat in the neck keeps the meat juicy over the coals, and the onions from the marinade are fried and piled on top, with rye bread on the side. Many Thuringian grillers splash beer over the meat while it cooks; this version needs no alcohol. Chef's tip: scrape most of the onion off before grilling, as it burns on the coals; fry it separately instead.

35 minGermanMeatGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Labskaus

Labskaus is the pink, rough-textured hash that ships' cooks made from salted beef and potatoes, and it is still on the menu in harbour pubs from Hamburg to Bremen, often as a hearty lunch after a cold walk along the Elbe. Salt beef is fried with onion, then pounded into mashed potato with pickled beetroot and a splash of its juice, so the whole plate turns magenta. A fried egg goes on top, with gherkins and, for those who like it, a rolled pickled herring on the side. Chef's tip: keep back some of the beetroot liquid and add it at the end, a spoon at a time; it is the sharpness that stops the hash tasting heavy.

60 minGermanMeatGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Halve Hahn

Order a Halve Hahn in a Cologne brewpub and you will not get half a chicken, whatever the name says: you get a buttered rye roll, a slab of aged Gouda, sharp mustard and raw onion rings. It is the standard snack on the long wooden tables of the Altstadt, eaten with a small glass of the local beer, though it is just as good with apple juice spritzer. The point is the contrast of crusty rye, nutty crystalline cheese and the bite of onion and mustard. Aged Gouda is usually made with animal rennet, so look for one labelled vegetarian or made with microbial rennet. A common mistake is slicing the cheese thin like a sandwich; the Cologne way is a slice as thick as your finger. Chef's tip: take the cheese out of the fridge 30 minutes ahead so its flavour opens up.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

White asparagus with hollandaise

From mid-April until 24 June, Spargelzeit takes over Baden, and the little town of Schwetzingen near Heidelberg holds its asparagus market in front of the palace. The thick white spears are peeled, simmered with a pinch of sugar and a knob of butter, and served on a warm platter with new potatoes and a jug of hollandaise, often as a meal on its own. The sauce is thickened with egg yolks warmed gently to about 70 °C, which also takes them past the safe point. The common mistake is peeling too lightly: the woody outer layer stays stringy, so peel generously from just under the tip. Chef's tip: save the peelings and ends to simmer in the cooking water first; it makes the spears taste far more of asparagus.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Handkäs mit Musik

Handkäs mit Musik is the bar snack of Frankfurt's Sachsenhausen cider taverns, where it is served on a small plate beside a glass of apple wine; apple juice or a sour apple spritzer is the alcohol-free match. Handkäse is a small, firm, low-fat sour-milk cheese, ripened until it turns glassy and translucent at the edge, and the 'music' is the marinade of onion, vinegar, oil and caraway it soaks in. It is eaten with a knife and fork on buttered rye bread. Most Handkäse is made without rennet, using acid alone, but check the label if you are strict. A common mistake is serving it straight away: the cheese needs at least an hour in the marinade. Chef's tip: choose a cheese that is still chalky white in the very middle, which gives a mix of creamy and fresh textures.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bayerischer Krautsalat

Every Bavarian inn serves this pale, glossy cabbage salad beside roast pork and dumplings, and it is just as good on its own at a summer barbecue. The white cabbage is shaved very finely, salted and kneaded, then dressed with hot vinegar, oil and caraway so it softens while keeping a crunch. Many cooks finish it with crisp bacon bits; this version leaves them out and is vegan. The common mistake is dressing it cold and serving it at once: it needs the warm dressing and at least half an hour to turn silky. Chef's tip: shave the cabbage as thin as paper; thick shreds never soak up the dressing properly.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Dampfnudeln

Dampfnudeln are a Friday supper in Bavaria and the Palatinate, from the days when meatless Fridays meant a sweet main course. Soft yeast buns are packed into a heavy pan with milk, butter and a little sugar, the lid goes on, and they steam until fluffy on top while the liquid boils away and leaves a salty-sweet caramel crust underneath. They come to the table with warm vanilla sauce. The famous mistake is lifting the lid too early: the steam escapes and the buns collapse. Chef's tip: listen to the pan instead of looking; when the bubbling turns to a crackle, the crust is forming and you have about 3 minutes left.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bayerische Creme

Bayerische Creme is the light, wobbling vanilla cream that Munich coffee houses and Bavarian wedding buffets have served for generations: a cooked egg custard folded with whipped cream and set in moulds, then turned out onto a pool of berry sauce. It is traditionally set with gelatine, which is made from animal bones and skin; this version uses agar so it stays vegetarian. A common mistake with agar is adding it to a cool custard: it only sets after it has boiled, so it is simmered in milk first and then whisked into the warm custard. Chef's tip: fold in the cream when the custard has cooled to just warm and is starting to thicken, so the cream stays airy and doesn't melt into it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Grüne Soße

Grüne Soße, or Grie Soß in Frankfurt dialect, arrives in spring when market stalls in Hesse sell paper bundles of exactly seven herbs: borage, chervil, cress, parsley, burnet, sorrel and chives. Blended into sour cream and yoghurt, they make a cold, bright, grassy sauce that is eaten with halved boiled eggs and new potatoes, traditionally on Maundy Thursday. It is a whole meal, light but filling. If you can't find the herb bundle, any mix of soft herbs with some sorrel for sourness works. A common mistake is blending the herbs to a smooth purée in a hot blender, which turns them dull and bitter; chop or pulse briefly. Chef's tip: make the sauce an hour ahead and chill it so the herbs flavour the cream fully.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Weißwurstfrühstück

In Munich the Weißwurst breakfast is a late-morning ritual, eaten between ten o'clock and noon in beer halls and butcher's cafés, with soft pretzels and a pot of sweet Bavarian mustard. The pale sausages of veal and pork back fat, flavoured with parsley, lemon and mace, are bought fresh from the butcher and gently heated, never boiled, then the skin is peeled off at the table. Making the mustard yourself is the easy, rewarding part. Vegetarians can heat plant-based white sausages the same way and keep the mustard and pretzel. Chef's tip: keep the water just below a simmer; boiling splits the skins and the sausages go grey and dry.

40 minGermanMeat
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hamburger Pannfisch

Pannfisch began as the thrifty Monday supper of Hamburg's harbour families, made from the odds and ends of the weekend's fish and the cold potatoes from Sunday. Chunks of white fish are fried golden and laid over crisp Bratkartoffeln, with a creamy mustard sauce poured round, and today it is a fixture of the fish restaurants along the Elbe. Use whatever firm white fish is good: cod, saithe, haddock or plaice. Chef's tip: boil the potatoes the day before and chill them; cold potatoes fry crisp instead of breaking up.

45 minGermanFish
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Obatzda

Obatzda is what a Munich beer garden puts beside a giant soft pretzel: overripe Camembert mashed with soft butter, sweet paprika, caraway and raw onion until it turns a creamy, rusty orange. It is a thrifty spread that grew up in Bavarian taverns as a way to use cheese that had gone a little too far, and it is still eaten in the afternoon sun with radishes and dark bread. Camembert is usually made with animal rennet, so pick one labelled vegetarian if that matters to you. A common mistake is blitzing it in a processor, which makes it gluey; mash with a fork so a few soft lumps stay. Chef's tip: make it an hour ahead and chill it, then let it stand 15 minutes before serving, so the paprika flavour blooms and it spreads easily.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Radi

In Bavaria a Radi is a single big white radish, cut into one long spiral or paper-thin slices and salted until it 'weeps', then eaten with your fingers in the beer garden between bites of pretzel. Stalls at Munich's Viktualienmarkt sell the long white roots from spring to autumn, and old regulars carry a special spiral cutter. It is crisp, peppery and cooling, the opposite of everything rich on the table. A common mistake is eating it straight away: the salt needs ten minutes to draw out the bitter juice and soften the bite. Chef's tip: pick a heavy, firm radish with a smooth skin; a light one is often woody and hollow inside.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Brezenknödel

Brezenknödel are what thrifty Munich kitchens make from yesterday's pretzels: the cubes soak in warm milk with egg, onion and parsley, then are shaped into dumplings with a faintly salty, malty crust flavour running through them. They are served on Sundays in place of bread dumplings, alongside a creamy mushroom sauce or a pile of red cabbage, and leftovers are sliced and fried the next morning. The big mistake is adding too much milk: the mixture should hold when squeezed, not drip. Chef's tip: pick off most of the coarse salt before cubing the pretzels, otherwise the dumplings end up far too salty.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kartoffelkäse

Despite its name, Franconian Kartoffelkäs contains no cheese at all: it is a soft spread of riced potato, sour cream, onion and caraway that farm families around Bamberg and Nuremberg put on the table for Brotzeit, the cold evening supper. It goes on thick slices of rye bread with chives and sliced radish, and it was a way to turn a few leftover potatoes into something rich enough to stand in for cheese. A common mistake is using waxy potatoes, which go gluey; floury ones make it light. Chef's tip: rice the potatoes while hot, but stir in the sour cream only when they are cool, so the spread stays fresh-tasting rather than heavy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Rote Grütze

Rote Grütze is the summer dessert of Hamburg, Schleswig-Holstein and Lower Saxony, made when the gardens are full of redcurrants, raspberries and sour cherries. The fruit is cooked briefly, thickened with a little cornflour and chilled until it sets to a glossy, spoonable jelly, tart and deep red, with whole berries still in it. Northerners pour cold vanilla sauce or plain cream over it; with a plant-based vanilla sauce it is fully vegan. A common mistake is boiling all the berries: add the soft raspberries last, off the heat, so they keep their shape. Chef's tip: frozen mixed berries work beautifully out of season, and their juice gives an even deeper colour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 24 of 74 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 1 of 4