The King of Dumplings: Schlutzkrapfen

Schlutzkrapfen is a very fitting name for this dish. Just as straightforward and a bit merciless as the Tyroleans themselves, who evidently named these dumplings after their slight slipperiness, which is characteristic of them after bathing in saltwater. The term "Krapfen" is somewhat confusing, as the Schlutzkrapfen are related to Faschingskrapfen only in the sense that they contain a delicious filling. However, this filling is not hidden in a sweet yeast dough, but in a pasta dough. It’s no wonder that the Italians refer to Schlutzkrapfen with reference to their own variant as "ravioli tirolesi" or more poetically – in reference to the shape – as "Mezzelune" (half-moons). The people of Carinthia call their version "Kärntner Nudeln" and the Swabians are happy to have Maultaschen. However, Schlutzkrapfen – and this can be justly and subjectively asserted in the heart of Tyrol – are the best.

In no time at all, Patrick Trois is kneading the dough. He's quickly "coupled" rye flour, wheat flour, eggs, oil, and salt in the bowl, surprising even the ingredients with their lightning-fast transformation. "If it's not too hot, the dough can rest a little longer," the chef points out, referring to the often practical option of preparing the dough beforehand to avoid delays accompanied by family hunger just before mealtime. "The dough rolls out best at room temperature," the master adds, and is already rolling a dough disc on the floured work surface with a rolling pin. Those conspiracy theorists, who have recently regained popularity and refuse to believe the Earth is round, would have a great time with this.
But the dough won't stay flat and undisturbed for long, as Patrick has already picked up a cookie cutter with which he begins to cut out many small discs. Since round and square shapes don't quite fit together except on a soccer field, the fun-shaped dough pieces are kneaded back together between the discs, rolled out, and a round base is created once more for one or two more Schlutzkrapfen. Perhaps those that will have to settle a dispute at the dining table more driven by fun than hunger.

Now it is time for abundance. The village tavern in Mösern, specifically Patrick Trois' father, Josef Trois, was a founding member of the "Culinarium Alpentraum", a thoroughly tasteful initiative on the Seefeld plateau that is dedicated to fine ingredients from the region, respect for the seasons, and the high quality of exquisite, local cuisine. Eight "passionate hosts" have dedicated themselves to this, and for 20 years, alpine cuisine has consistently been elevated in the Culinarium Alpentraum restaurants. This is also the reason why Patrick Trois, who became head chef in 2006 and two years ago also took over as head of the establishment opened in mid-December 1986 in Mösern, is extremely selective when it comes to choosing his ingredients. Be it Schlutzkrapfen or any of the other delicacies promised on the village tavern's menu.

Once again, his own preference serves as the benchmark – for the flavor profile of the filling that goes into the Schlutzkrapfen. "I prefer spinach the most. Of course, you can also use pumpkin or mushrooms or meat – depending on taste and the season. Spinach always works," he says. For those who want something really hearty, a gray cheese filling can also be prepared. There is no shortage of variations. However, Patrick likes spinach, so he finely chops the onion, sautés it in butter until golden brown, and then quickly mixes in the spinach, salt, pepper, nutmeg, and grated mountain cheese.

By the way, Patrick took a little detour before discovering the kitchen as his world: "I went to business school for two years. Sitting down and studying wasn't really for me. Then I became a cook, like my dad. It’s in our blood." Nice.

While he shares that his parents still like to help out, Edith Trois enters the kitchen and checks with the thoughtful hospitality that passionate hosts often have, whether everything is going well. It is indeed, as the saltwater in the large pot has long since started to bubble, warmly embracing the Schlutzkrapfen. At the moment, Patrick isn't paying attention to that; instead, he is making sure a generous piece of butter in a pan is slowly turning brown. Now, the moment arrives that explains the name. The bath for the dumplings is over. With a slotted spoon, the chef gently lifts them out – a delicate touch is quite necessary, as the outer consistency of the half-moons is just as they are called – "slutzy" or rather slippery, which in hastier movements could lead to a Schlutzkrapfen becoming independent. That doesn't happen to Patrick. "I'm just toasting them a bit in the butter now," he explains. Promising, isn't it?

The taste buds begin to dance slowly as the eyes and nose relay the stimuli, placing the whole body in a joyful state of anticipation. Out of the pan, onto the plates, grated cheese, the rest of the butter on top – and the first bite of the Schlutzkrapfen into the mouth. Now they dance, the buds. A Tyrolean dance, of course.