A while back, tin and I had wondered aloud whether sauerkraut might just make a good pizza topping. A food with a very distinctive, love-it-or-hate-it flavor, I admit that I had a hard time imagining it playing anything other than sidekick to a nice potato. I also recall finding it occasionally on buffets at hot dog barbecue parties, which is probably where most Americans would most readily recognize it.
I grew up eating (and for a long time, refusing to eat) sauerkraut -- I remember it being lovingly prepared by my mother, only upon very special occasions, and warmed all day in a slow-cooker with a large pork roast or sausages. The smell, which should not be understimated, would fill our kitchen and leave our mouths watering in impatient anticipation of the meal to come. The residual scent the next morning, however, was less welcome and, dare I say it, quite unpleasant.
My time spent working for a saurkraut-loving family during my first stay in Germany led me to an important discovery: come to find out, the lingering aroma was not the sauerkraut's alone -- although it is certainly pungently aromatic during the cooking process (and most likely for the rest of the evening), I discovered that by eliminating the meat from the equation (and most likely some of the cooking time), one can also successfully avoid the assaulting Morning After. I found an entirely new love for sauerkraut and eventually had to be gently reminded that it wasn't necessarily something that one wants to eat more than once a week.
Fair enough.
So this week, I am bringing you a recipe for sauerkraut -- a spin on what sauerkraut loves best, this one fully embraces the two nationalities represented in my two-person household: I got my pizza, and tin got her potatoes.
Stick with me on this one.
First and foremost, one should be aware that not all sauerkraut is created equal. If you're a first-timer, it's okay to Eeenie-Meenie-Miny-Mo it. Often sold in jars, it's nothing more than fermented cabbage, which sounds extremely simple and it is! But believe it or not, every brand tastes a little bit (or very) different, and if you really get into sauerkraut, I encourage you to try multiple brands to find the one you like best. tin and I found one that we particularly like, which just happens to come packaged in a bag. That's cool, too -- be flexible.
My particular specimen reqiures that I heat it with two cups of water for about forty-five minutes on medium-low heat. The goal here is to soften it up a bit. I had time to do this while tin prepared her special dough (as before: see the recipe "Pizza Night" for instructions).
Sauerkraut, as I said, has a very distinctive flavor which readily and eagerly overpowers everything that crosses its path. It does not play well with others -- so I chose to give it partners which needed a flavor boost. I very thinly sliced four small potatoes, two onions, and 200 g of tofu.
After forty-five minutes, I found myself looking at something that seemed a bit too water-logged to put on a pizza. Always wary of creating the dreaded soggy, mushy crust, tin and I carefully spooned most of the liquid out of our sauerkraut. As it turns out, we removed a bit too much and, in retrospect, would have left about two tablespoons after all. At any rate, we saved ours in a little jar and (spoiler alert) we plan to use it for rice later this week.
This week, we made our dough entirely from whole wheat flour, which resulted in a much dryer consistency -- thus, we decided not to pre-bake ours. If you've followed our regular recipe, pre-bake the dough for five minutes at 375 degrees.
We decided to put the sliced potatoes on the very bottom, such that any remaining liquid in the sauerkraut would cook into the potatoes before reaching the dough. About three cups of sauerkraut ended up in a thick layer over the potatoes, covered by the onions and finally, the sliced tofu on top. We loved our last "meat" pizza with the crunchy, chewy tofu so much that we wanted to repeat the experience. We topped the entire thing with fresh parsley leaves (about three tablespoons), a sprinkle of salt, and a generous amount of black pepper. Resist the urge to over-season -- the sourkraut won't like it (or you won't -- well, let's just say it'll be mutual).
We ate our first slices precisely as we'd prepared them. Concluding that "something was missing," when we went back for seconds, we also busted out the tahini sauce. Drizzled lightly over the entire slice, it was definitely a messy and unsuspecting, but perfect flavor partner for the sauerkraut, bringing also a tiny bit of needed moisture to the final baked equation.
So to answer the original question: yes, indeed -- sauerkraut is good on pizza.
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The Nitty-Gritty:
Ingredients (for two, with leftovers for lunch:
pizza dough (see "Pizza Night" from February)
sauerkraut of your choosing
four small white potatoes
two medium-small white onions
200 grams extra-firm tofu
2 tablespoons fresh parsley leaves
salt & pepper
tahini sauce
Procedure:
2. Prepare the sauerkraut according to its individual preparation instructions (most should be heated on medium-low in water for about 45 minutes).
3. Slice potatoes, onions, and tofu in quarter-inch slices.
4. Pre-bake dough in 375 degree oven for five minutes.
5. On pre-baked dough, first spread potato slices evenly over the surface; cover with sauerkraut. Follow with sliced onions, and finally, the sliced tofu. Sprinkle with salt and parsley; add a generous amount of fresh black papper.
6. Bake for about 20 minutes at 375, until tofu starts to curl up on the edges and takes on a light salmon-pink color.
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