We have had extended kitchen table discussions — in Austria and the US — about what, exactly, “topfen” is. I contend it’s ricotta, but the Austrians insist its something different. These state department level negotiations have not prevented topfenstrudel from appearing in my Seattle kitchen on numerous occasions, though said strudel has always appeared upon my return from an overnight or a long day out of the house. It’s as though my kitchen has been invaded by some kind of strudel producing elves. That or perhaps the production of strudel in the US is a clandestine activity, like singing along to a John Mayer tune or eating a microwaved burrito.
There’s another diplomatic tension around strudel; this one is flour based. Austrians have a broad variety of pastry flours on their supermarket shelves. My nearest Seattle market, which is quite a good one, does not offer the same selection. Any strudel that appears in my home kitchen was probably prepared with standard cake flour where an Austria based strudel uses, for all I know, a flour milled specifically for the creation of strudel dough. Improper flour makes for a harder dough, though serious bakers also blame the water for changes in consistency. Perhaps to get an authentic strudel dough, you can only use snow melt as filtered through the edelweiss covered granite peaks of the Austrian Alps. It is even more helpful if you have an Austrian mother-in-law who makes the stuff appear as though it is not an act of magic.
Strudel gets subbed in for lunch from time to time here in Austria. If you want to do it right, eating said strudel should be followed (or preceded) by a three mile walk along a country road.
It’s safe to say I don’t even care what’s in it…that looks divine! A three-mile walk along a country road beforehand? Sounds like a day of pure bliss.