Pfifferlingen and Steinpilzen
When you talk about southern Germany and Tyrol, people quickly think of Bratwurst and Schnitzels. To be honest, I always ignore the Bratwurst, and I rarely eat the Schnitzels. In fact, in culinary terms, these regions have much more to offer.
During my last holiday in August, I could indulge myself: it was mushroom time. From years ago, I remember how our Tyrolean acquaintances came home with baskets full of them. In the kitchen, their findings were displayed on a tray and treated as if they were expensive steaks. I did not dare to collect them myself, as such things are better left to connoisseurs. A report heard on the radio in Tyrol at the time confirmed me in this: German tourists had been hospitalised with poisoning symptoms after eating self-picked mushrooms. No, it's much better to indulge in a restaurant then.
The menus offered a variety of dishes, often with Pfifferlingen as an ingredient, but occasionally with Steinpilze. The former we know better in the Netherlands as chanterelle. I did eat them as a child in my parental home, but these days they are on the red list here. In Tirol, too, their numbers seem to be declining, but this was not yet noticeable on the various menus. We call the Steinpilz boleet and, to be honest, I have never eaten it in the Netherlands. That may be because mushrooms and mountains belong together for me.
How lovely it is to settle down on a terrace after a long walk and eat Tortellini with Steinpilze, or one of those enormous Semmelknödel with Pfifferling-Rahmsauce. The temperature is pleasant and slowly the sun sinks behind the mountains. High in calories? Absolutely! But what does that matter at such a moment?
