Kaertner Nudeln or Carinthian Dumplings and Disproving Urban Myths

Whereupon I single-handedly explode a myth.

It’s a commonly held misconception that it’s a bad idea to make anything that your SO’s mother made for them because it will never measure up. Well, based on completely anecdotal evidence, I am pleased to announce that it ain’t necessarily so, folks.

I mean, get this. F’s mum makes these great Kaertnernudeln (doused in brown butter!) from Kaernten (Corinthia) where she is from. On the weekend, I made them too figuring that it’s probably something y’all haven’t come across before and because I like making recipes that take, oh, hours and hours to even approach completion…Come back! I’m exaggerating, and they’re a good weekend project – try them. You can make the (very forgiving) dough the day before and rest it and then do the filling and the making the next if you want. The point is, that F did not gag and look reproachful. He didn’t even look like he was faking it even though I fluked it from a recipe I copied down from his mum several years ago when I understood a lot less German than I do now. He actually heaped praise upon them! Convincingly!

Oh my cute, fat, minty, pillowy little dumplings, how I would love to cradle my head on…wait, sorry, that seems a bit tangential so I’ll stop.

Anyway, in one fell swoop, I made these buttery, carb-laden little fatties *and* exploded a myth that has been keeping nervous cooks everywhere down, DOWN I tell you because as I’m sure my scientifically minded brother will attest, if one experiment proves a thing, it is possible to extrapolate from that forever and ever, amen.

Or something.

Have you ever cleverly exploded a myth in the face of all evidence to the contrary?

Carinthian Mint and Potato Dumplings

I’ve done the second part of the recipe with the ingredients in bold for easy access during the assembling ingredients stage instead of the more traditional list because it just seems more sensible, you’ll see. The nudeln dough is stretchy and forgiving like pasta so you don’t need to worry as much about tearing as with gyoza. Depending on the size, you should get about 8-10 dumplings.

For the dough

Mix the first 4 ingredients in a medium bowl. Add water tablespoon by tablespoon until it

comes together. Knead lightly for a few turns and leave to rest either overnight in the fridge

or on the bench for an hour if using the same day. If you leave it in the fridge, take it out an

hour before you need it so it softens.

For the filling

Scrub

slightly. Put

in a pot with the potatoes and pour in just enough cold water to cover. Bring to the boil with

the lid on and boil until a knife slides through a potato easily.

Drain the potatoes. Cool slightly and peel. This is not just a way to annoy you – the potatoes absorb less water this way.

Mash the potatoes with:

Form the dumplings by rolling out the dough and using a 7.5cm cookie or scone cutter to

cut out circles, adding a tablespoon of filling (be generous, the dough is accommodating,

much more so than gyoza) and pinching closed in a half circle. Make marks with fork tines

as shown above if you like.

Bring a large pot of water to the rolling boil and add 1/2 tablespoon salt. Boil each

dumpling for about 4 minutes. Take care not to overcrowd the pot or the water will cool down.

Meanwhile, brown

by melting it in a pot and allowing the white milk solids at the bottom to brown – be careful

not to burn it, this happens quickly once the crackling noise subsides.

Serve dumplings with the butter poured over and chopped chives.

Print this recipe

Tagged as: brown butter, cheese, dumplings, herbs, mint, own recipe, potatoes, quark, soft cheese