Polish breaded pork cutlet (lunch)

Yesterday was sheer extravagance (kale, or kale burgers, to be precise). I must tell you, it was only after eating that kale burger that I learned it’s the vegetable of choice for “hipster athletes”. Hmm… I nearly had my stomach pumped. Hipster food in the Primitive Kitchen? Never 😉 I hope it was their thing in 2013 and they’ll find themselves another vegetable in 2014, broad beans for instance, which I don’t like. Because I have to admit kale is actually rather good.

Yesterday was yesterday. Today it’s tradition. Pure tradition. The tradition to end all traditions. A dish some granny has surely cooked for you at some point, just like chicken broth. Dead easy, too: the Polish breaded pork cutlet, or schabowy.

What put me in the mood for a schabowy? I was at the butcher’s and the woman behind the counter asked, “Anything else?” just as I was eyeing a decent piece of pork loin. Almost on instinct I asked for two cutlets. Once I had them, I thought, my daughter can’t spend her whole life eating poultry or pasta with meat sauce. So I decided to trick her (yes, I admit it). My thinking went like this: a breaded pork cutlet looks pretty much like turkey strips, so if she complains I’ll tell her it’s turkey, or chicken or something. Besides, I know Ninka likes pork loin (though she has it roasted and cold for supper), so it didn’t seem an unduly risky experiment.

That’s how lunch came about. And now I’m starting to wonder whether it’s even possible to mess up a schabowy. Probably not. Obviously the quality and freshness of the meat are fundamental, I reckon, but the breadcrumbs matter just as much. Don’t use some strange concoction that only vaguely resembles bread. Heaven preserve you from buying ready-made “pork cutlet coating”. That stuff is pure evil. The best thing is simply a dried bread roll ground into crumbs (you can buy those in the shop too, of course I didn’t grind mine myself). Meat and good crumbs and your cutlet will turn out a treat.

Ahhhh… Nearly forgot. Meat, good crumbs and a proper mallet. A schabowy won’t be any good unless you give it a proper pounding. I hammered mine so hard today that I hope the bloke upstairs who spent half the day drilling with a hammer drill and completely wrecking my concentration got my message: “Noise is bad for your health!”

I must admit my schabowy surprised me. Or rather, Ninka surprised me. I served lunch, or more of a combined lunch and supper by then (for her), and we started eating. I didn’t say a word. Didn’t ask a thing. Just waited on tenterhooks for her reaction, already getting my cover story ready: “But sweetheart, it’s chicken.” Then I looked over and my daughter, aged 6, lifted her head and said, entirely unprompted, “This meat is good.”

I was speechless. T-H-I-S M-E-A-T I-S G-O-O-D.

“This meat is good.”*

And then I started wondering if maybe you can screw up a schabowy after all (as in, if she likes it, can it really be a proper schabowy?). She ate every bit and didn’t even ask whether she could leave some! A true patriot! She likes schabowy! Tradition is saved! I admit I’m proud now… of myself. I wanted to sneak a lesson in patriotism past my kid (the chicken ruse), but it turns out it’s in her blood. The love of schabowy. Like every Pole. Every patriotic Pole. Written into her blood. So I’m proud of Ninka too.

* Nina, aged 6.

At a glance:  

Prep time: 30 minutes

Serves: two cutlets for two people

Calories: a Pole eating schabowy “doesn’t count the hours or the years”, let alone a few calories.

Ingredients for a traditional schabowy:

• 2 slices of pork loin (I don’t know what they weighed, I just asked the woman at the butcher’s to cut me two cutlets from a piece of boneless pork loin)
• breadcrumbs (real ones, mind, not some breadcrumb substitute — there’s plenty of that in the shops these days)
• salt
• ground black pepper
• 1 hen’s egg
• olive oil for frying

To serve:

• potatoes
• dill
• pickled gherkins

Method (this is going to get loud):

Making a schabowy is a doddle. I started by pounding the cutlets. I used a meat mallet with a textured face (yes, it leaves marks on the meat you’re beating). I pounded mine fairly flat (the surface area increases several times over). I put them in a plastic bag first so I wouldn’t splatter the whole kitchen.

I seasoned the flattened cutlets lightly with salt and pepper and put them in the fridge for about an hour (you can skip this). Then I beat the egg in a large shallow bowl and put the breadcrumbs in another. I dipped the cutlets in the egg and coated them well (those two cutlets used up exactly one whole egg, not a drop left), then coated them thoroughly in breadcrumbs. I fried them for about 10–15 minutes in olive oil heated in a frying pan (I used quite a lot, as you can see in the photo below).

I served my cutlet with potatoes drizzled with the fat from frying the cutlets and sprinkled with fresh dill, and some pickled gherkins. Ninka had hers with mizeria, the Polish creamy cucumber salad, and mashed potatoes. Dinner was ready. The only thing missing was the fruit compote to drink. Enjoy!