Veal Schnitzel Story

I find the name itself most unattractive. Because of that actually, I remained very distant to the schnitzel for a very very long time. A piece of breaded pan-fried meat? Yea, and then what?  It just sounded boring to me and in restaurants I always saw it served as just huge slabs, and I was never tempted to take a bite. The few times I did take a bite, because my partner may have ordered it, I found it oily and over-salted for my taste!

It took a 4 year old little girl to change my opinion.

A couple of years ago, a friend of mine and her 4-year old daughter came over to visit me for a few days. I was really excited as I had not seen my friend in years and had spent the week prior to her visit, planning the menu. Everything was planned-the breakfasts, lunches, dinners and of course, the desserts!

I knew that my friend enjoyed cooking and thought that we would spend evening together in the kitchen cooking and chatting as we did years back when! I went to the airport to meet my friend and as I saw her walk through the customs, I was filled with excitement and anticipation for the upcoming days. I watched her and reminisced-I was taken back to the good-old days!

And it ended right then and there!

I gave my friend a hug, and within what felt like 2 seconds, I was taken back by a screechingly loud scream. The loud scream came from her daughter. She was clearly tired and cranky and did not want anyone near her mother. A transatlantic flight can do that to anyone. I figured that once she got some sleep and a nice home-cooked meal, she would be fine.

No.

We arrived home to breakfast, which I had prepared before heading out. I proudly explained what I had prepared and got ready to sit down and eat when the daughter asked me for her cereal. I gave her the “cereal” I had purchased for her. She took one good look at it and said that this was not her cereal-it looked funny.

The crying resumed.

I tried everything to appease her. I had purchased gummy bears and all sorts of goodies, thinking that she would be immediately captured. Nothing was like that which she was used to at home. The gummy bears were too hard and small, the Smarties were not her beloved M&Ms, and she cried for things I could not possibly get in Germany. She was experiencing a serous cultural shock here!

After I was about to loos my nerves, I thought of offering her some hot chocolate. I told her that this hot chocolate would be the absolute best that she would ever have.

The crying stopped.

I made her some Lindt hot chocolate and handed it to her. She took a sip and…

The crying began again. She only drinks hot chocolate with marshmallow hearts. Marshmallow hearts? I had never even heard of that before!!!

This scenario continued for a day and a half and all of my efforts were completely futile. She was not at all happy with I was serving her. We went out for lunch in the hope that we would be able to order something she liked and to spare me of further frustration.

The same thing occurred. Nothing was right.

The second night, I prepared some pasta with a veal sauce. She dislikes sauce, so her mother and I decided that she may enjoy the pasta with some oil or butter. Surprise surprise-this clearly was a no-go for her. She pushed her plate away from her and shouted out “swirlies!!!”. Swirly pasta, which I did not have. I felt horrible and was beginning to dread the next few days. I finished eating my meal in silence and watched my friend trying desperately to please her daughter, not being able to eat herself. Then it occurred to me that I had an extra piece of veal left over. Since this little girl seems to only eat things in shapes of hearts and swirls, perhaps I could cut the veal into a heart for her, I thought. I did just that. I cut it, shaped it, breaded it and pan fried it.

As I served it to her, I felt as if I was serving a meal to my greatest-ever critic-and indeed I was. This was the moment of truth. And what a moment it was because there was sheer silence (which I had so dearly missed since the day before).

My friend and I looked at the plate and then at my friend’s daughter to se her reaction. She asked me what it was and before I could answer her, she picked it up with her cute little fingers and took a bite. Yummy..was what I heard. Within a few minutes the entire heart had disappeared. Her mother jokingly asked me what sort of magic pills I put into it. I do not know if it was my utter desperation to please this girl or my nerves which were about to explore, but something worked!  My friend asked for us to make some more together the next evening. She had never seen her daughter eat so well.

I felt such a great sense of relief! And guess what?

I did not hear her cry again.

The following evening, we all made veal schnitzel together and I really enjoyed it! The schnitzel now plays a regular role in my culinary repertoire, especially during the winter months (for some reason), and this was my dinner tonight.

Guten Appetit!