The Kaiserschmarrn for Manuela
Finally it's finally here. Our container It found its way to us – and with it came the things we brought from Austria, and of course my baking supplies.
We have already covered the entire container odyssey in detail in our book„We wanted more sea“ tells us that’s why we leave the story out here.
Meanwhile, some people here know that I enjoy baking, and Manuela from the market wants a Kaiserschmarrn. Manuela originally comes from the area around Munich and has actually not eaten a Kaiserschmarrn for 23 years.
The fact that we come from Austria was actually proof enough for them that I could of course make an excellent Kaiserschmarrn. And Romed confirmed this immediately.
He is my biggest fan – and at the same time my harshest critic. Romed actually has no idea how to bake, but he knows pretty well what something should taste like. At least according to his taste.
When it comes to baking, however, I tend to be quite perfectionist. So, when I have to make a cake for some occasion, it can sometimes happen that my roughly one hundred recipes that I already have in my head suddenly no longer suffice. Then something completely new is needed.
And of course, this has to be tested and tasted beforehand.
For that I have Romed.
We usually work on it together. Our ideas can quite differ, though. For me, the look isn’t always perfect enough, while Romed is pretty picky about it. The main thing is that it tastes good.
So, additional ingredients are added, the recipe is tried again, and eventually it is deemed good enough.
The fact that I don't always necessarily follow the traditional path is actually nothing new. I like to try out new things and sometimes even combine ingredients that aren't necessarily included in the standard recipe.
My chocolate mousse with chili was quite famous and sought after at some point. And my crispy pistachio creations were also very popular with family and friends.
It doesn't have to always be 100% perfect.
In any case, Romed was right in the middle of all these experiments. He had to try, assess, and say whether something, in his opinion, already fit or whether I should tinker with it some more.
The story of the two-story cake for Titus
And I still remember a story well where my perfectionism came quite unhandily.
Titus was at that time just getting together with Verena, his life partner, and I think he was pretty into the sludge, at least that’s what I think.
Verena is the godmother of twins who celebrated their tenth birthday, and I believe that Titus just wanted to make a big impression on her. In any case, he had made a big announcement that he was organizing the cake.
However, the wish list was endless long.
It was supposed to be a two-story cake. Various creams were practically predetermined as the filling, while at the same time, due to possible intolerances, all possible ingredients had to be ruled out. In addition, there were all sorts of special requests.
And all of this had to be delivered to South Tyrol in the height of summer.
At that time, I was sitting in the office with my back to Titus. My desk was right in front of his, and as I went about my work, I heard him getting turned down after another pastry shop after another.
Bit by bit, evil was creeping up on me.
We were just in the middle of remodeling my parents' house, and I really didn't have any time frame for a two-story cake.
At some point, it came very quietly from behind:
„You, Bine?“
I didn't even turn around, kept typing on my bill and said only:
„What do you need?“
Then he explained to me exactly what I had already noticed from his phone calls.
The twins celebrated their birthday on July 18.
So exactly on my birthday.
That was just what I needed.
Instead of celebrating myself, I should also now have to bake a two-story cake and take on the additional task of arranging the entire renovation.
But Titus was such a nice guy that I didn’t have to ask him for a long time.
The next day I said just briefly to him:
„Okay, I’ll do it. But I need two days off for that.“
The two days were, of course, no problem at all.
Apparently, only the construction site was unaware of this.
It just kept going on.
And of course, it was exactly on these two days when I was baking a biscuit base after another, that Jonika would constantly come to me. He was leading the renovation at the time and wanted to „just ask me a quick question“.
I had just put the biscuit in the oven.
No time. Not even for a short time.
So I ran to the construction site with the watch on my wrist, decided on some detail, and then sprinted back to my biscuit.
By then he had barely scraped the curve and had just escaped being burned.
Because of course, the „short“ one took significantly longer than planned.
And so I spent these two days shuttling back and forth between the oven and the construction site.
Biscuit in.
Set timers.
To the construction site.
Make a decision.
Back in the kitchen.
Save the biscuit.
Prepare the next floor.
And starting all over again.
While the biscuit bases were in the oven, I mixed colors.
They should of course not be subtle. No, what was desired was bright and metallic colors.
That really isn't my case at all.
So I first had to organize the appropriate food colors, and then I tested, mixed, and tested again until the fondant actually looked the way it was supposed to.
Once a purple one.
Once turquoise.
Bright, bold and as metallic as possible.
But that was of course far from the end of the wish list.
The cake should of course also feature Japanese manga girls from the comic.
And please make everything purple and turquoise.
It gradually dawned on me why I had heard about rejections from one pastry shop after another.
No nuts, no milk, no I don't know what. Light and fluffy creams instead of heavy buttercream. Japanese manga girls. Purple and turquoise. A two-story cake.
And somewhere in between, the whole thing should also look like a birthday cake, and not like a technical experiment.
So I went to the hardware store.
I needed a scaffolding for the cake.
Somehow, the thing had to become stable enough to make it through the journey to South Tyrol.
Then my Bauhaus shopping came into play.
The scaffolding had to be assembled.
And that way, my cake finally got a technical component as well.
Biscuit, creams, fondant and manga girls on the outside – and inside a wooden frame, made from strips from the DIY store, that was supposed to ensure that everything actually arrived where it was supposed to.
Slowly, the situation took shape.
And indeed, I managed to make the cake in these two days.
However, I don't know how many times I inwardly renounced the friendship with Titus during those two days.
The dining table was completely covered with glazes, piping bags, sugar pearls, marzipan, paints, brushes, and all sorts of other baking accessories. Unless the fondant was taking up all the space.
And the refrigerator?
It was overflowing.
After all, eight different creams also need their own place to cool down.
But in the end, the cake actually looked really good.
Both floors were decorated in the desired colors – purple and turquoise. I had also procured manga girls and Lollies in the appropriate colors and even found two small mini handbags for the girls, of course also in matching colors, which I also draped on the cake.
The names of the two, lovingly painted by Romed, also found their place.
And of course, sugar pearls were not to be missed – in purple and turquoise, in different sizes.
The fondant got a good amount of gold and glitter on it.
In the end, it was all quite loud, colorful, and crazy.
So exactly the way the two of them had wanted it.
Since approximately 25 guests were expected, the cake had to be correspondingly large. It was quite wide, which provided plenty of space for decoration.
And in height, it actually fit exactly in my 50-centimeter-sized styrofoam box.
I was satisfied.
The next morning Verena and Titus came to pick up the cake.
Of course, I was also congratulated on my birthday during the process.
Verena fell to my neck at first, and Titus smiled contentedly as he looked around.
And I could already imagine that I had probably been his emergency plan from the very beginning.
And then my two-story art piece embarked on its journey to the Pustertal valley in a refrigerated Styrofoam box.
And indeed:
She arrived unharmed.
No collapsed cake, no flowing cream, and the scaffolding had also served its purpose.
The cake actually survived the three hours at over 30 degrees Celsius.
However, I was quite exhausted afterwards.
And I believe that on that very day I decided for myself that I was slowly becoming too old for such actions.
Not for baking.
But for two-story cakes with eight different creams, allergies, manga girls, special colors, and scaffolding, I just didn’t have the energy anymore.
Although...
When I think about it today, I almost fear that I would do it again.
After all, you don't leave good friends behind.
Even if you mentally break off their friendship about a hundred times in between.
Back in Mexico: the promise to Manuela
And it was this combination of perfectionism, a desire to experiment, and the firm belief „We can do this“, that I had now taken with me to Mexico.
In this way, I had practically already fulfilled my promise to Manuela:
As soon as I have my baking supplies, she gets her Kaiserschmarrn.
What I completely ignored about this promise, however, were the ingredients. I hadn’t given it a second thought at all at first. Why would I?
I have been baking ever since I was little. As a child, I would stand in my mother’s kitchen and watch and help her. She herself was an excellent baker and came from a farming family. There wasn’t necessarily a strict use of scales and precise measurements. Instead, it was more like: a little of this, a handful of that, a little more of that – and that was it.
That's exactly how I took it on.
That's why it's still not that easy for me to remember a recipe when someone asks me for one. With really elaborate cakes, of course, I weigh everything and write it down. But with ordinary baked goods, I usually don't have a proper recipe at all. I just know what it should feel like, look like, and taste like.
And that’s exactly why, when I made my promise to Manuela, I didn’t initially even think about whether I would actually get everything I needed here in Mexico.
How in the world do I make rum raisins without rum?
Until I finally had to face the question:
How in the world do I make rum raisins without rum?
And if I don't have rum at all – how do I get them as close to the original in terms of flavor as possible?
So the search for a solution began.
Rum is of course also available in Mexico. But I didn’t want to just buy any rum just so it says „Rum“ on the bottle. If I’m going to make Kaiserschmarrn, the raisins should taste just like the ones I know.
Then the idea came to me: We are in Mexico. Why not tequila?
Of course, it wasn’t quite that simple. Blanco Tequila was pretty quickly eliminated. It has its own agave flavor and would probably be more of an interesting choice than a good surprise for rum lovers.
By contrast, a Reposado brings vanilla, caramel, and spicy notes from the wood during storage. This brought the flavor much closer to what it was supposed to be. In addition, there is also very dark Piloncillo, which gives the whole thing a stronger, more caramelized note.
So we’re going to try just that: cheap Reposado Tequila, very dark Piloncillo, and make our own little „Mexican rum substitute“ from it.
Whether it actually tastes like rum at the end or simply like a very peculiar Kaiserschmarrn will be revealed.
Vanilla, flour and the thing with the caper
But the rum was by no means the only problem.
Vanilla was supposed to have a very special story of its own.
Getting decent vanilla here is a real challenge. And when you find something that's of good quality, the prices are often quite exorbitant.
Back then, about three years ago, we went shopping in Loreto. For some reason, I took a bottle of vanilla extract with me. Just for fun. I thought: Vanilla is available in Mexico after all, so it should be fine.
At some point I actually tried it.
I was horrified.
Even the worst cough syrup I ever got in Austria couldn’t compete with this vanilla extract in terms of flavor. I immediately threw the bottle in the trash – and that really means something to me. I don’t usually throw away food just because I don’t like it.
Perhaps it would have worked as an ant repellant at least. However, I didn’t try it out.
Therefore, I naturally stored my real vanilla beans from Austria well. I also have some Tonkabohnen left. But for daily baking, I needed a solution. Because in the long run, I can hardly use up my Austrian supplies and every time I have to make a small investment in vanilla.
So it was said again: search, compare and try out.
And things got interesting with the flour too.
In Austria, you don’t use the same flour for everything. For biscuits, I need a different flour than, for example, for a strudel dough. Especially for strudel, the right flour is important because the dough needs to develop enough gluten.
An apple strudel simply won’t work with any kind of flour.
So we also did some research here and looked at which Mexican flours are suitable for which Austrian bread products. What works for one biscuit may not be suitable for another bread dough.
Then came the next surprise:
Cheese.
There are no tomatoes in Mexico?
No. You don't get it.
At least not in the way I know him from Austria.
Of course, there are plenty of products here that look similar or go in the same direction. For baking, for example, Greek yogurt has proven to be a viable solution. Fage works quite well for this. When you let it drain through a cheese strainer or cloth, it acquires a consistency and a flavor that is quite close to that of cottage cheese.
For many things, it works surprisingly well.
But:
No rice balls or other items without tofu are allowed.
You can be as creative as you want.
A small niche for baking in Mexico?
And so the list went on and on.
Raisins for the Kaiserschmarrn. Mint. Dark cocoa. Yeast. Cream. Mascarpone or alternatives to it. Vanilla. Flour for the various types of bread.
Things that I hadn’t even given a second thought about in Austria for decades, because I just went to the supermarket and bought them.
Suddenly, this became a small research project.
I didn’t want to just bake any old cake. I want to make Austrian cuisine here deliberately – and maybe eventually offer it on the market as well.
Because one thing has now struck me: The Mexicans are absolute sugar snobs. Sweet things here go down quite well. At the same time, there’s surprisingly little decent choice here, apart from the American donuts and the usual industrial stuff.
And that might be where a small niche could emerge for me.
Few people here are familiar with Austrian desserts. Kaiserschmarrn, Gugelhupf, Sachertorte, Scheiterhaufen, Polsterzipf, Apfelstrudel and all the other things that are completely natural to us are not commonplace here.
Therefore, I could well imagine that this is not only well received by the Mexicans, but also by the Americans who live here or vacation here. After all, they are also accustomed to sweet things – just that until now they have mostly been in the form of donuts, cookies, and American cakes.
Perhaps that is exactly an interesting combination: Austrian baking tradition, made with the ingredients I can find here in Mexico.
And that’s exactly why we worked through various products, compared them, tried them out, and searched for solutions.
By now we have found a way for many things.
Some things are even easier than you might think.
Some things are significantly more difficult.
Baking in Mexico: Our gas oven is the biggest challenge
But eventually it turned out that sourcing the ingredients wasn’t even the biggest challenge.
Because even if everything actually does end up on the work surface at some point, it still has to be turned into a cake.
And that’s where our gas stove comes in.
That is indeed the real big challenge when baking here.
Our gas oven does what it wants. With our roasting thermometer, we have now at least once found out what it can do roughly.
With a lot of patience, he manages to get it to about 190 degrees.
Theoretically.
Because with an Austrian oven, where I can set the temperature and can rely on it being 180 degrees, that has very little to do with it.
Bread is therefore off the table for the time being at least. Perhaps I will try something with yeast at some point, but I can’t afford to mess with sourdough under these conditions at the moment.
So for now I’m focusing on cakes.
And we need to come up with something for that too.
One option we want to try is to place an additional baking sheet under the cake. This will shield the direct heat from the gas flame and prevent the cake from getting too much color from the bottom or even burning.
Towards the end, we want to push the cake upwards further, so that it gets a little more heat from above and also gets a nice color.
Does that really work?
No idea.
That's only a theory so far.
But that's exactly what we're going to try.
And of course I will document the whole thing photographically – whether the end result is a beautiful cake that comes out of the oven or something that looks more like a culinary accident.
Because I have already learned one thing here:
Baking Austrian bakery goods in Mexico doesn’t simply mean getting the ingredients and getting started.
But that is also the appeal of the matter.
Old bread dishes interpreted in a Mexican style.
Perhaps someday rum raisins will become raisins with Reposado and Piloncillo. Perhaps a classic Austrian dessert made with Mexican ingredients will suddenly acquire a whole new flavor.
And maybe something will actually emerge from this at some point that doesn’t exist in either Austria or Mexico.
Because who knows?
Maybe there will actually be Austrian bread products in the middle of the Baja California Sur.
But before I can think about that, this Kaiserschmarrn has to work for Manuela first.