Chocolaty Sauerkraut Stew ‒ Suklainen hapankaalipata

My favourite food is called mush. Others have invented flashier names for it though I think they're only designed to hide the truer essence. You hardly need a recipe for them since their very idea is to take a pot and stuff it with anything you find from the closet or the refrigerator. This can sometimes lead into quite dubious looking concoctions. I'm still sincerely wondering if I should divide this ingredient list into two, just for the sake of people with further developed taste buds than me. But then again, perhaps there are some other twisted minds out there.

If you can't stand sauerkraut but would like to give this a try nonetheless, flush the sharpest taste out of your kraut with water ‒ or just use freshly shredded cabbage instead. One warning: I've never run into this problem myself but little birds told me that using vanilla-flavoured chocolate in salty dishes may result in even weirder taste results.

- 300 g seitan strips
- 5 dl sauerkraut
- 2 dl beans
- 2 large apples
- 40 g dark chocolate (semi-sweet, at least 70 %)
- 1 tablespoon rape oil
- 1 tablespoon tar syrup
- 1 teaspoon coriander seeds
- 1 teaspoon caraway seeds
- 4 dl beer (I only had dark lager this time but I imagine stout or thick porter would fit even better)

In a large pot, heat up the oil. Fry the seitan and the beans until they've acquired some colour. Drain the sauerkraut and add it into the pot. Add the spices as well. While they warm up, peel (or just wash if you're using organic) and cut the apples. Mix in the apple chunks, the beer and finally, the chocolate. Let the stew simmer for few more minutes so everything becomes just one big mess.

Decorate with pickled onions.

Nutritional values / 1510 g:
energy 1778 kcal
fat 45 g
protein 126 g
carbohydrates 182 g
fiber 52 g

Seitan

I was going to write a stew recipe using seitan but then I realized I've never posted any basic directions on making the stuff so I could just easily link to it. Of course, in some countries you can just buy seitan on a reasonable prize, here in Finland it's usually a better idea to use gluten flour. Some extra trouble perhaps, but that way you'll also get to flavour it the way you want to, tweak the structure and shape it creatively.

Seitan flour is the closest thing to pure protein. It contains over 70 % of the stuff (for comparison). When making white bread it's a terrific way to improve the structure. If you just add water into it you'll get a rubbery clump that has almost no taste. To make it chewier you want to add something extra, for example mashed beans, soy flour, pea flour or hemp flour. When making roasts I even use normal wheat flour. And to give it some taste you'll need to add spices. Lots of them.

Here's one basic combination I use. Try playing with your favourite spices. Instead of red wine and maple syrup I often use tar liqueur and a teaspoon of vinegar for a smoky result. And to get a zesty sea-flavour I might apply apple juice plus some seaweed in the broth. But of course, you won't necessarily need any of them.

The seitan:
- 4 dl seitan flour
- 1 dl pea flour
- 0.5 dl red wine
- 0.5 dl nutritional yeast
- 2 garlic cloves
- 1 dried chili
- 2 tablespoon rape oil
- 1 teaspoon maple syrup
- smoked paprika
- salt
- water (approximately 2.5 dl)

The broth:
- 1 dose of stock
- piece of ginger
- dried yarrow
- 0.5 dl soy sauce
- 2 l water

Combine all the dry seitan ingredients. Mix in the wine, the oil and the syrup. Start adding water little by little, kneading all the time. Be careful not to use more water than you necessarily need unless you really do want your seitan soft. Knead for at least five minutes.

Combine the broth ingredients and let it come to a boil. Cut seitan into pieces, flatten with your hands and drop one by one into the boiling broth. Let them simmer for half an hour. Notice that seitan will swell quite a bit so use a big pot.

Some people bother to fish the seitan pieces out of the broth and cover them into an oily marinade. I'm usually so lazy I just leave them stand there overnight. What ever you do, don't throw the tasty broth away. It's a terrific base for a soup.

Next day, fry on a pan with plenty of oil. Or proceed to make something else.

If you can't find gluten flour you can also use normal wheat flour. It takes some work and flavouring can only be done through marinating but the good thing is that it's hard to fail. You'll first have to knead 11 dl flour and 4 dl water for about half an hour to achieve a tight ball. Let it stand in cold water for a moment. Then start flushing the carbohydrates away, changing the water turned white every now and then. (It helps to keep changing between cold and hot water.) This should take about half an hour. When the water just keeps looking clear no matter how much you knead you can proceed to the boiling part.

Nutritional values / 661 g:
energy 1345 kcal
fat 36 g
protein 174 g
carbohydrates 76 g
fiber 12 g

Happy Birthday to Me

I almost missed the occasion. It's been a whole year since I posted this. I was just going to collect a recipe archive of my own and possibly offer information for an occasional googler but to my surprise some fellow food enthusiasts have started to follow my kitchen adventures. Thank you! During this short period I have even been officially awarded. Thank you! Blogging about my cooking has taught me to value more seasonal (in a country of four seasons this is no light issue), local, ecological, ethical, healthy, better tasting and culturally richer eating. So last, I'd like to thank myself for doing me a huge favour.

Guess the occasion would yield for a cake but think I've had enough of them for a while, right after salmiakki muffins, bilberry cheese cake and Runeberg's tarts. (Plus, I'm starting to understand why counting those nutritional values after the recipes isn't always a good idea.) Instead, I thought I'd amuse (or bore) you with some data from Google Analytics.

One thing I feel quite excited to look at is the world map, showing where on earth do people visit my blog. The all-time top ten shows no huge surprises (India might be one if I didn't remember how many English-speaking internet users there are):

1. Finland (Surprise, surprise!)
2. United States (with California, New York and Texas leading)
3. Canada
4. United Kingdom
5. Germany
6. Sweden
7. Australia
8. France
9. India
10. Austria

Ten most popular recipes (or at least most visited ones) include:

1. Glögi
2. Mämmi
3. Hemp Milk
4. Hefu
5. Salty Mushroom Salad
6. Sea Buckthorn Parfait
7. Rhubarb Mead
8. Sour Rye Loaf in a Tavastian Manner
9. Salmiakki Pasta
10. Warmer Röstis

Ten most common keywords that people are looking for when coming to Mämmi through a search engine are almost entirely in Finnish:

1. mämmi (Surprise, surprise!)
2. hamppuvoi
3. suolasienisalaatti
4. mammi
5. perunasalaatti
6. tyrnijäädyke
7. omenapiirakka
8. hernelevite
9. hamppumaito
10. glögi

The weirdest part is the most hilarious keywords (though I must admit, they don't come even near the ones of BitterSweet):

i've been eating frozen mämmi instead
salmiakki tastes awful
simmer industrial hemp in ilk fatty
beetroot syrup harden
eat apple pie in finnish
does rhubarb have yeast?
soya bean should be take fried or simply dissolved in water
mammi cameras
how to mämmi
www.mammihot.com

Finally, maybe I really should try these:

salmiakki coffee, salmiakki chili and salmiakki wine
the weirdest gingerbread
soups made with hemp milk
rasberry beetroot
roasted pumpkin and apple soup
caraway finncrisps
cabbage rolls with rutabaga
chili mammi, mammi gravy and mämmi pasta
fermenting fireweed leaves
macaroni gram flour omelette

At this point I'd also like to ask you, my dear readers, what else do you think I should definitely write about during my second year as a food blogger?

Brown Sauce ‒ Ruskiakastike

You know how French kitchen has four mother sauces that all the rest are based on? Well, my mother has just two: the brown sauce and the white sauce. This time I'll concentrate only on the brown one and save the white one for early summer and new potatoes.

English speaking world uses that wonderful term comfort food. Basic roux-based sauce with potatoes is certainly one of those for me. It's really simple in principle but it took me quite many years to learn how to properly prepare it. It got burnt, it got clumpy, it got watery. The key thing is knowing when to add the water. The flour should be roasted but not burnt. My mum, a child of the post-war shortage years, has learned to replace butter with good quality margarine but I've taken the progress even a step further. Oil seems to work just as well and you don't need it quite as much.

- 2 tablespoons sunflower oil
- wheat flour (about 4 tablespoons)
- 4 dl water
- salt

Heat the oil in a sauce pan. Sift in the flour, in small batches. Keep stirring the bubbling mixture until it has acquired a beautiful colour. Add the water, again in small batches, stirring all the time. Season with salt. Let the sauce thicken up before removing it from the stove.

You can cultivate the sauce for example with mustard, onion and sausage slices. Tomato puree, oat cream and paprika make another yummy combination. Add red wine and herbs instead of water and you've just made yourself the best red wine sauce there is. And it's nearly always a good idea to pour a dollop of stock into any of them.

Nutritional values / 467 g:
energy 379 kcal
fat 28 g
protein 5 g
carbohydrates 27 g
fiber 2 g

Vatruskas of Ilomantsi ‒ Ilomantsilaiset vatruskat

Vatruskas are a close relative of Karelian pasties. They're usually round and open from the top but the good people of Ilomantsi like to fold them crescent shaped. Again, you can use pretty much anything for the filling. I first thought I'd just make a simple porridge but then I ended up adding mushrooms which North Karelians so dearly love.

These didn't exactly come out right with the first or second try. I managed to make a big bucket of glue several times before understanding to ask help from a friend who happens to be a chef specialized in local and traditional food. (Thank you Päivi, once again!) The most important instruction she gave me was not to use the same potato variety you would normally use for mashed potatoes. Another one was more about relieving my mind. You see, most recipes I've seen don't mention anything about the flour amount and the ones that do tell to use it as little as 1 dl. Luckily, she didn't understand how anyone could make a rollable dough with so little flour either.

The crust:
- 1 kg waxy potatoes
- dark wheat flour (I needed 7 dl)
- salt

The filling:
- 1 dl buckwheat grains
- 1 onion
- 1 dl oat cream
- 2 dl frozen mushroom chunks (for example russulas and milk-caps)
- 1 tablespoon oil for frying
- dill
- parsley

- margarine and oat milk for buttering

Cook and mash the potatoes. Season with salt. Chop and fry the onion. Cook the buckwheat. When it starts to get soft, add the onion, the mushrooms, the cream and the herbs into the same pot.

When the potatoes have cooled down enough for you to stick your hand into them without screaming, start kneading in the flour. Little by little, add as much flour as you need for a rollable dough. For me, the easiest method is to mix only some flour straight into it, then flour my hands well and make small balls out of it. Roll the dough into small, flat circles. (This makes about 15 pieces.)

Portion a tablespoon of filling on each of the circles. (I like to make them quite chubby.) Fold and close by pressing with floured fingers. Bake 10 minutes in a 250°C oven. Butter with melted margarine and oat milk mixture, then cover with a towel.

Nutritional values / 1 vatruska:
energy 177 kcal
fat 3 g
protein 6 g
carbohydrates 32 g
fiber 3 g

Talkkuna Ropsu ‒ Talkkunaropsu

A must have dessert after pea soup is ropsu. I use the South-Ostrobothnian name but most Finnish speakers call it with the word pannukakku which has the same origin as English word pancake. They have many things in common but this Finnish dish is thicker, bigger and cooked in the oven.

There are huge differences in ropsu recipes and I guess everyone just has to find their favourite through trial and error. This one gets extra flavour from talkkuna and cardamom as well as extra structure from oatmeal, yogurt and baking powder. I also use much lower temperature and less sweetening than most recipes I've seen. Actually, if I'm going to eat it with something overly sweet like jam I only use about 1 tablespoon. Most recipes use eggs which make the ropsu bubble unlike eggless versions ‒ some think it aesthetically pleasing and some are desperately trying to get rid of the phenomena.

This is easily turned into a salty version by dropping the sweetening altogether and adding some herbs like basil and marjoram. Or you might want to try other flavourings, say banana and cocoa powder.

- 1 l soy milk
- 4 dl spelt flour (or dark wheat flour)
- 1 dl talkkuna (can be replaced with more wheat flour)
- 1 dl oatmeal
- 1 dl soy yogurt
- 0.5 dl dark syrup (or sugar)
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- cardamom (or some vanilla)
- salt (just a pinch)
- 3 tablespoons margarine

Mix together the dry ingredients. Add the milk, the yogurt and the syrup. Whip whip whip. Let the batter rest for half an hour.

Warm up your oven to 175°C. Take a baking tray. (I've seen photos on the internet where people have tried to make these in a frying pan or some smallish casserole so let me stress this: you'll need a whole baking tray plus a sheet of parchment paper. If you only have a pan then make a smaller portion.) Put half of the margarine on it and stick it into the oven. When the tray has warmed up, take it out, spread the melted margarine evenly and pour the batter on it.

Cook your ropsu for half an hour on a low shelf. Take it out for a moment, top with margarine pieces and put on the top shelf for another fifteen minutes to get some colour. If you try the ropsu with a wooden stick at this point it should still feel sticky from the inside. Let it cool down before serving.

The classic sidekicks are strawberry jam and whipped cream. Instead of going to a food store just for oat cream I made a thick mousse from chocolate, fruity beer, half-frozen silken tofu, sugar and frozen berries. Part of the berries I just added on top. Voilá!

Nutritional values / 1555 g:
energy 2295 kcal
fat 55 g
protein 55 g
carbohydrates 339 g
fiber 34 g

Pea Soup ‒ Hernerokka

Long flaxes, fine hemps and turnips size of a plate to everyone! That's what you're supposed to shout when sliding down a snowy hill on Laskiainen (the name of which refers to either descending or sliding). You see, today is one of those ancient Finnish holidays that are slowly gaining back their popularity. Connections to English Shrove Tuesday are close but in the Finnish version both Sunday and Tuesday are equally important.

During christianization Laskiainen became so intensely affected by the beginning of the Easter lent that we can now only speculate about its original meaning – and what could possibly be more fun! Slavic peoples celebrated the Sun (eating blintzes to symbolize it) and the end of the winter at this time so some believe this is also true about Laskiainen. One hint is all the well-wishing for the next harvest season. It actually looks like this time of the year used to mark the beginning of the spring all around Europe. Flax and hemp, the most important fiber plants, had a position especially significant as well as combing hair, a clear symbol for flax. All weaving and spinning was paused during the holiday. According to one theory (by Kustaa Vilkuna) it was in a way an ancient Labour Day but this sounds like a rather modern idea to me.

Today was foggy which makes the air feel really cold. So after couple of hours of sliding a thick pea soup is a must. It's an essential dish for Laskiainen but also something even a child knows you're supposed to have on Thursdays. This is how I usually make the basic version, tuned with herbs. Sometimes I like to make a double portion for the freezer.

- 500 g dried peas
- 1.5 l water (more if needed)
- 1 punch of sage
- 1 dose of stock (miso fits here as well)
- 1 carrot
- 1 onion
- 4 dl textured soy protein flakes (or smoked tofu)
- 1 tablespoon rape oil
- yarrow flowers (just a hint)
- salt

Soak the peas at least overnight. (This shortens the cooking time). You can sprout them as well if you have time. Rinse. Add the water, the stock, the salt, the pepper and the yarrow. Cook until the peas are starting to get mushy (the time needed depends a lot on how long you soaked and sprouted, but prepare yourself to at least three hours).

Chop the onion. Sauté on an oiled pan with the soy flakes until they turn golden or even crunchy. Grate the carrot and cut up the sage. Add everything into the soup. The longer you cook or more times you rewarm the soup the better it gets.

Enjoy with mustard and rye bread.

Nutritional values / 2 l:
energy 1922 kcal
fat 29 g
protein 123 g
carbohydrates 277 g
fiber 66 g

Sweet and Salty Winter Salad ‒ Makeansuolainen talvisalaatti

Everyone hopefully knows by know what a wonderful pair raw carrots and salted nuts make. Well, I was chopping carrots for a soup on the other day and thought I'd make a hi-fi version of the theme while I'm at it.

Once I remember seeing a satay carrot salad recipe I thought awesome but can't find anymore. The carrots were first grated the way Finns normally serve them but then the cold salad was garnished with hot and sweet nuts. I had been thinking a way to variate the idea without making it too similar to this hot and sweet salad. Then I saw Kahvila Vegaani's excellent selection of winter salads where the idea was to marinate (and raw cook) root vegetables and then combine them with vinaigrettes made of fruits. The combination of hot and cold fits salads well and combining sweet and salty at the same time gives it even more twist. I'm sure I'll be trying more of these.

- 300 g carrots
- 0.5 dl black currant juice (non-sweetened)
- 2 tablespoons spruce syrup
- aniseed (or star anise or liquorice)
- 0.75 dl hemp seeds (sprouted if you have time)
- salt

Peel and shred the carrots. Put them into a bowl, add the spruce syrup and sprinkle with a fair amount of aniseed. Pour the juice over the carrots and turn them over a bit. Refrigerate the bowl and forget it for a night.

Arrange the marinated carrots on your serving plate. Gulp down the remaining juice. Roast the hemp seeds on a dry pan. Salt them well. Place over the cold carrots while still hot. Serve immediately.

Nutritional values / 389 g:
energy 351 kcal
fat 17 g
protein 13 g
carbohydrates 39 g
fiber 19 g

Piny Cutlets ‒ Mäntyiset leikkeleet

Marinades are fun to play around with. Much like stocks, they can be made out of anything your imagination allows you to. Just for inspiration, here's one that I used for textured soy protein cutlets I've had lying in the closet for ages but can't see no reason why it wouldn't work just as well for precooked seitan or firm tofu.

The fallen but still fresh pine twig I used here sort of followed me home from a forest trip. Another thingy I wanted to get rid of was half a bottle of Gambina ‒ theoretically red vermut and juniper-spiced gin sound like a great combination but I found this way too sweet for me. It was probably a fine aperitif drunk from a stemware when first introduced in 1932 but is nowadays mostly consumed by teenagers and boozers straight from the bottle because of the cheap prize.

- 3 dl pine needles
- 2 dl Gambina
- 2 tablespoons rape oil
- 2 tablespoons apple wine vinegar
- 2 garlic cloves
- salt
- lemon pepper (continuing with the theme "something I just want to get rid of")

Crush the needles and smooth down with the rest. Move into a plastic bag with your cutlets for a few hours. Turn around now and then.

If you'd rather use a bowl, add some water to achieve a thinner mixture and soak your cutlets for the whole night.

Brush out the biggest bits and pieces and cook on a pan. One thing I noticed is that the surface gets burned quite easily so don't go reading food blogs while you cook!

Saturday Temptation ‒ Lauantaikiusaus

Kiusaus, meaning temptation, is a popular type of oven dish around Scandinavia. While I find it hard to explicitly tell how they differ from casseroles or gratins, at least in my mind there is a clear difference. Temptations tend to be care-free main courses, quick to prepare on any night of the week. You can just lay shred root vegetables in a casserole, adding spices and such between the layers.

This one is an ideal supper for a lazy Saturday. You can put it in the oven and go to have a sauna. It should be ready by the time you come back.

- 500 g sunroot
- 250 g tofu
- 1 red onion
- 1 sheet of nori
- 2 dl oat cream (or oat milk)
- 2 tablespoons margarine
- dill
- thyme
- coriander
- black pepper
- salt

Wash the sunroots and remove bad parts but don't bother to peel. Slice as thin as you can. Julienne the tofu. Mince and saute the onion.

Oil a casserole and arrange a thin layer of sunroots on the bottom. Sprinkle with spices, onion and nori pieces. Add a layer of tofu. Repeat layering as long as you have something left. Lastly, cover with a few sunroot slices, sprinkle with spices and pour the cream on the temptation evenly. Top with margarine pieces.

Stick into a 200°C oven for about 45 minutes. (One way to make it even juicier is to turn the oven into a low heat after the temptation has acquired some colour and let it simmer for one more hour. In this case you may need to add some stock in the middle to prevent it from drying up.)

Serve with pickles.

Nutritional values / 1103 g:
energy 1016 kcal
fat 63 g
protein 48 g
carbohydrates 63 g
fiber 27 g

Runeberg's Tart ‒ Runebergintorttu

Today is a flagging day for the honour of Finland's national poet Johan Ludvig Runeberg. These little cakes are just as much named after his wife Fredrika Runeberg who is nowadays also a highly respected writer but was left in the shadow of her husband at the time. The recipe she had probably adapted from a confectioner called Lars Astenius was found recently and naturally has very little to do with the numerous versions we now know as Runeberg's Tarts.

At this point I have to confess the only work I've ever heard or read from either of them is Johan's poem Vårt Land (Maamme in Finnish, Our Land in English) that became Finland's national anthem ‒ and I don't even like the song. The Runebergs were a part of the Swedish-speaking elite whom I can hardly relate to. The reason I find this couple so important is that they were key figures among the Fennomans who created the idea of Finnish people as we now understand it. Thanks to them, I can now get academic education in the language of my ancestors and read the most massive poem collection of the whole world: the Finnish Folklore Archives, mostly written in the magical ancient poem form Kalevala metre. In a way I even feel me and my spouse are following their large footsteps, trying to get Finnish cultural heritage better known in our humble ways. Perhaps I really should read some of their writings.

The tarts of today typically feature almonds and gingerbread crumbs. They're decorated with raspberry jam and powdered sugar plus water icing. I used arctic raspberry, possibly the most decadent tasting berry on the face of the planet, but apple sauce fits here as well. Store-bought tarts are usually cylinder-shaped though you could also make small muffins or just one big cake. A major part of the taste comes from the moisturizing and it's hard to spread it evenly so make sure to choose something you love. (I strongly recommend my Finnish-speaking readers to read this story about making a cut brandy version.)

- 150 g margarine
- 1 dl sugar
- 2 dl almonds
- 2 dl bread crumbs (preferably consisting of gingerbread and rye crisps)
- 1 dl wheat flour
- 1 tablespoon flax seeds
- 1 dl water
- 2 teaspoons baking powder
- rum or arrack punsch for moisturizing (about 1 dl)

Heat up the water and leave the flax seeds soak in it. Beat the margarine and the sugar together so they form a fluffy mixture. Grind the almonds. Add everything except the moisturizer into the batter. If you're using baking tins (or four oven-proof coffee mugs like I did) oil and sprinkle with breadcrumbs. Be careful not to overfill your tins or paper cups since the tarts will rise in the oven. Even the surfaces and put them into a 175°C oven for about half an hour.

Let the tarts cool down. Moisture and wait a few hours before flipping them out of the tins. Add more rum onto the other end and decorate if you wish.

If you have the patience, refrigerate them overnight. I didn't. Eating half of these after only couple of hours was the only way to save the pecan chocolate cheese cake my spouse made for his mum.

Nutritional values / 1 mug-size tart:
energy 707 kcal
fat 48 g
protein 13 g
carbohydrates 42 g
fiber 6 g

Lingonberry Rieska ‒ Puolukkarieska

The simplest version of lingonberry rieska consists only of smashed lingonberries, cold water and rye flour. For my lazy day breakfast today I adapted a bit more complex recipe from here. From what I've learned from earlier experiments, when using store-bought oat yogurt or lingonberry cram that has already been sugared it's better to leave the syrup all out. The amount in the original (1 tablespoon for this batch) makes these way too sweet for me and destroys the tartness of lingonberries but feel free to adjust it to your own taste buds.

- 3.5 dl rye flour (coarse type)
- 1.5 teaspoons baking powder
- 0.5 teaspoons herb salt
- 1 teaspoon dark syrup
- 1 dl lingonberries
- 1.5 dl oat yogurt (or soy)
(- wheat flour)

Mix the baking powder and salt with the flour. Crush the lingonberries with a fork. Mix everything. Heat up a frying pan. Shape the paste into flat, round breads. (I got six small ones.) The paste is very sticky so you may need to use wheat flour as an aid. Fry lightly on a dry pan from both sides.

Enjoy buttered with oat milk or coffee while still hot.

Nutritional values / 462 g:
energy 924 kcal
fat 8 g
protein 26 g
carbohydrates 184 g
fiber 39 g

Hot Dog Rieska ‒ Nakkikojurieska

The Eurovision Song Contest is always a big event in Finland. Our contestant for this year was selected last weekend here in Tampere. One of my big time favourite bands Eläkeläiset turned out too much for people who haven't followed their entire career but luckily the winner isn't bad either. As a consolation for losing the perfect excuse for going to Oslo I made myself some comfort food.

I understand this may not look that delicious but do trust me for a while. This way of using rieska is actually more popular in Swedish fast food places but I sure hope it would catch fire here as well. If you rather use a simpler rieska version you can do what Swedes do and use mashed potatoes as a filling. Actually, I think that might work better since I had some hard time keeping the whole thing together.

The rieska:
- 1 cooked potato (cold)
- 1 dl barley flour
- 1 dl wheat flour
- 0.5 dl icy water (or oat milk)
- salt

The filling:
- 2 tablespoons sauerkraut (or pickle relish)
- mustard
- ketchup
- 2 wieners (I used store-bought ones with a seitan base but you can also make your own along these lines)

Warm up a frying pan. Mash the potato and mix it with the other rieska ingredients, preferably without using your hand as it's important to keep the paste cold. Form a flat, round bread and throw it on the hot and dry pan. Flip around after a moment. You shouldn't overcook as the structure easily becomes too crumbling for rolling (like mine once again did).

Warm up the wieners. Place the sauerkraut in the middle of the rieska, then the heated dogs on the sauerkraut and decorate with mustard and ketchup. Wrap up the package and enjoy between your hands, together with a fizzy drink and some humppa music (here's a suggestion).

Nutritional values / 385 g:
energy 743 kcal
fat 15 g
protein 44 g
carbohydrates 106 g
fiber 11 g