Big North German "Dumpling": Mehlbeutel

This is an extra large German dumpling dish, with a pretty dense texture. The standard German word for this dish is "Mehlbeutel,"* which means "flour bag." It gets its name from these large dumplings being boiled inside cloth flour bags long ago. The dumplings are from the marshy Dithmarschen region** of Schleswig-Holstein. The standard German form, "Mehlbeutel," was taken from the actual Low German form of that region, "Mehlbüdel." While more typically a dessert, served with fruit compote, it can also be used as a lunch dish served with bacon or ham and boiled potatoes, along with some mustard on the side, which is how I prefer it. The basic idea for this dish most likely came from a combination of German merchant sailors returning from England with various recipes for English puddings*** they had tried while there, and from English merchant sailors leaving such recipes in German ports when docked there. This dish itself seems to date back to around 1700. Some Germans call the dish "Großer Hans" (Big John/Jack).

 

Serve as a lunch dish with the smoked pork you've cooked, boiled potatoes and mustard, or serve as a dessert dish with cherry compote (see below), strawberry jam, or just some melted butter drizzled over each serving and then dusted with powdered sugar. If you don't have black currants, you can use all raisins. The meat must be smoked to give the dumpling the proper flavor as it cooks in the water used to cook the meat.

 

Ingredients: 

 

4 cups flour, more if needed, + a couple of tablespoons for the towel

4 eggs, separated 

2 cups milk (a little more IF needed)

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

5 tablespoons melted butter

1/4 cup sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup raisins

1/4 cup black currants

smoked slab bacon in a piece or smoked ham shanks or smoked pork shoulder in a piece or smoked ham hocks 

water for cooking the smoked pork & Mehlbeutel

For cherry compote: 

1/2 cup dried cherries

1 teaspoon lemon juice

1 to 3 tablespoons sugar (depending upon desired sweetness)

1/3 cup water 

First you'll need a linen towel or large cloth napkin (not stringy in any way). Boil the towel in plain water, absolutely NO soap or cleaning agents of any kind. Let the towel boil for about 10 minutes; afterward, drain the water, let the towel cool so that you can wring it out and then spread it out so that it can dry somewhat (I let it dry completely, so I do this part well in advance of making the dumpling, but it doesn't have to be totally dry).

 

In a pot (you will need a pretty good size pot), add whatever smoked meat you'll be using, like for instance: slab bacon, ham shank, pork shoulder, ham hocks, and cover the meat with water. Bring to a good steady simmer and let cook while you prepare the dumpling. In a large bowl, mix together the flour, 4 egg yolks, milk, baking powder, melted butter, salt, sugar, raisins and black currants. In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until peaks form. Fold the egg whites into the batter/dough. 

 

On a flat surface, spread the towel out, sprinkle a couple of tablespoons of flour into the middle part of the towel and smooth it out. Add the dough to the middle of the towel, then pull up the corners of the towel around the dough (the dough shouldn't be like bread dough or pizza dough, but it shouldn't be like pancake batter, either). I use some kitchen twine to tie around the towel corners (you should leave a little room for the dough to expand at the top). Germans often tie or fasten the handle of a large kitchen spoon or ladle to the "bundle" and suspend the bundle from this in the pot to keep the dumpling from sitting on the bottom of the pot. I have not done this "step," and I found that after putting the dumpling bundle into the boiling water, that it floated in a matter of a few minutes, just like other dumplings do (I moved it around occasionally so that it wouldn't just sit on the bottom of the pot), but you can leave the meat in the pot, and this will keep the dumpling from resting on the bottom anyhow. Add a little more water after you put the dumpling into the pot (and at any time during the cooking process, if the water level drops too much), and turn the heat to low (or to a point on your stove where the water maintains a gentle simmer). Remove the meat to a plate when it is done, but you won't be arrested by the "Mehlbeutel police" if you keep the meat in the pot for the duration of cooking the dumpling. I occasionally use a large spoon to "dunk" the dumpling "bundle" into the water and to turn it. The dumpling needs to cook for about two hours, then remove it from the pot, take the string off and peel the corners of the towel down and set the dumpling onto a plate without the towel for 5 to 10 minutes (see photo three, below). While the dumpling rests briefly, cut or distribute the meat to however many serving plates you need, then slice the dumpling into wedges (see photos below). Serve as a dessert or lunch dish as mentioned above. 

 

* English has words related to the component parts of its German cousin's compound "Mehlbeutel:" "Mehl" in English is "meal;" that is, meal the flour or ground up grain, and "Beutel" is from the same Old Germanic source that gave English "bud (of a plant)," with German "Butte" being an old form that meant "bud, the housing or casing for plant seeds."

 

** Dithmarschen is a region in the state of Schleswig-Holstein where a rather large amount of marshland along its North Sea coast has been reclaimed from the sea. The city of Heide is the district seat. It was from areas like this all along the North Sea coast that elements of Germanic tribes began sailing to Britain nearly 1600 years ago and took over a substantial part of land there, which then came to be named for one of those Germanic tribes, the Angles of "Angle-land;" that is, "England."  

 

*** Generally, English puddings date back centuries and originally referred to chopped meats and other ingredients stuffed into animal stomachs or intestines and then boiled or baked. The term then moved to flour, liquid and often egg mixtures (some containing fruit and spices and sometimes rum or other liquor) that were boiled, baked or steamed until firmed into a more solidified form. In American English, puddings are flavored custard-like mixtures that are commonly thickened with cornstarch and they are usually refrigerated. 

 

In photos 1, 2 and 4 below, "Mehlbeutel" with smoked pork shoulder, boiled potatoes and mustard; photo 3, cooked "Mehlbeutel" with the towel removed (the towel I used was not smooth, so it naturally left the pattern on the Mehlbeutel), and you can see the size of the dumpling, as that is a full size dinner plate; photo 5, "Mehlbeutel" as a dessert with melted butter and cherry compote ... 

 

 

 

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Dusk-This word is distantly related to the main part of "obfuscate," a word English borrowed from Latin, and it's more closely related to "dust," a word from the Germanic roots of English. It goes back to Indo European "dheu," which had the notion of "smoke, haze, dust," with the extended form "dheus(k)." This gave Old Germanic "dusko," with much the same meaning, and this produced the adjective "duskaz," meaning "of dark color, dark colored," and this gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "dox" (swarthy, dark haired). This then became "dosc/dosk," by which time the meaning had altered slightly to "not bright in color, to the dark side in color, shadowy," and this then became "duske," before the 'e' was dropped, and the noun meaning became "trending toward full darkness, not complete darkness" (the noun originally meant "darkness," circa 1400, and it was rendered as "dusknesse"). While not all that common in modern times, the verb form came into being (1300s?) as "dusken" ("to get dark"). The adjective "dusky" is from the mid 1500s, meaning "dim in light, near darkness."    

Mongolian Steamed Dumplings: Buuz

Mongolia is an Asian country with no outlet to any of the world's great seas. The country has great variation to its landscape, generally with the Gobi Desert in the south, and the Altai mountain range in the west and north. The land and the climate have naturally molded the people's view of food, with fatty meats being seen favorably as a way to give people endurance against the long cold winters. Mutton and beef are common types of meat used in Mongolia, and Mongolians use both types to make these dumplings, which are then steamed. "Mutton" is meat from older sheep, as opposed to "lamb," from young sheep, generally less than about 14 or 15 months old. In the United States, mutton has long been out of favor, and you likely will have great difficulty finding it in supermarkets or butcher shops. My parents and grandparents talked about mutton being fatty and with a strong taste, but I don't believe I've ever eaten it, unless it was when I was quite young. Exactly why mutton lost popularity in the U.S. seems to have something to do with price (the older the sheep, the more it costs to raise them to that age) and the steep decline in the use of wool as a common fabric (less need to raise sheep to be old enough for them to develop their thick coats), and I would assume increasingly health conscious people turned away from fatty mutton. As Americans got away from eating mutton, many of those who then tried the meat found its greasy and stronger taste to be unappealing, which led to mutton being left out of meat cases in most parts of the country. Myself, I generally like strong flavors, but when I checked on getting some mutton, the owner of the lamb and goat meat shop I go to told me he can get it, but only in fairly large quantities, like 50 to 100 pounds. Since my living space is too small to host a significant part of the U.S. Army, I decided against buying such a large amount, and so I bought ONE POUND of ground lamb instead (I hope this guy doesn't go on vacation now!).

"Buuz" (pronounced kind of like "buss," with the 'u' like the double 'o' of 'book') are easy to make, although shaping the dumplings can take some trial and error, with emphasis on the 'error' part for me. I checked about 25 recipes and I found very little variation in recipes, and many recipes mentioned that Mongolians tend not to use lots of flavorings in their foods. The variations I did find in recipes were relatively minor. For example, a few put a pinch or two of salt in the dough, but most recipes used only flour and water for the dough. Those with no salt in the dough made up for this, however, by adding a good dose of salt to the meat filling. As for other variations in recipes, I found, in a recipe or two, some grated carrot added to the filling, or some ground coriander was used, rather than caraway seed. And that was about it; so, a pretty consistent recipe. About the dough. I haven't put precise measurements in the text below, and I used these amounts to simply provide some very general idea of what you'll need. Use an amount of water to form a dough that isn't terribly sticky. When you take the dough out to roll it into a log shape, you can dust it with some flour to remove stickiness. The same is true for when you roll out the small clumps of dough for the dumplings and you can dust it with some flour to remove any remaining stickiness. If you aren't into making the dough, you can buy a package of wonton wrappers, but they are usually made with eggs, and likely some other ingredients beyond flour and water, so they won't be quite the same. Or you can buy spring roll wrappers, some of which are made with flour, water and a little salt, if you are looking for more authenticity, but many use rice flour and other ingredients, if that matters to you. So, to be honest, much of what makes Mongolian "buzz" more unique is the use of the simple flour and water dough for the wrappers. One of the other variations in recipes is about the shape of the dumplings, and there are several, but I'm more than a little bad at such things, so I chose what I felt was easiest (see below). "Buuz" are commonly served with soy sauce or ketchup for dipping.             

Ingredients:

Dough:
2/3 to 3/4 cup flour + more for dusting and rolling
about 4 to 5 ounces water

Filling:
1/2 pound ground mutton or lamb or beef
1/4 cup onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon caraway seed
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon salt
3 or 4 tablespoons water

Make the dough by gradually mixing water into the flour until a dough forms. Mix it until the dough is less sticky and then cover it for about 15 to 20 minutes. Use that time to make the filling by mixing the ingredients together, but add only 2 tablespoons of water to start. After getting the filling well mixed, add another tablespoon or two of water so that it's "moist," but not "wet." Make sure your onion is finely chopped, as it will cook easily that way. Sprinkle some flour on your counter or board and knead the dough briefly, and roll the dough into a log shape of about 3/4 inch thickness. Then cut the "log" into pieces of about 1 inch in length. Take a piece of the dough and flatten and round it in your hand until it's about 3 to 3 1/2 inches diameter. You can also use a rolling pin to roll out the pieces of dough, which is what I do. Whether you use a rolling pin or just your hands, the rounds should not be extremely thin. Hold a round in your hand and put about a teaspoon of the meat filling in the middle. Begin pulling the dough up around the filling, leaving an opening at the top, but pinch the dough together at four places to form sort of a rectangle. Use a steamer basket (I have a stainless steel steamer) and add and heat the water per the instructions for your own steamer. I use my finger to just dab a bit of oil onto the bottom of each dumpling to prevent sticking. Cover the steamer or steamer basket and steam the dumplings for about 15 to 20 minutes (more likely the latter). Carefully remove the dumplings from the steamer, as there will be a little "broth" in each one; that is, the rendering of the filling from cooking, and it is to be eaten along with the dumpling. I've tried both soy sauce and ketchup with these dumplings, but I'm a ketchup man, although I found I liked them with ketchup mixed with a little soy sauce.   


The top two photos are of "buuz" made with packaged sheets of dough. The other two photos are of "buuz" with traditional homemade dough, simply made with flour and water ...

WORD HISTORY:
Bushel-The origin of this word is uncertain, with some speculating that it goes back to an Indo European form, "gwosdh," meaning "branch," but I'm not convinced. "Bushel" does go back to Old Celtic,^ a language of the Indo European family of languages. Old Celtic had "bosta" meaning "palm or hollow of the hand," but also "fist." This gave Gaulish "bostia," meaning, "handful," which became a part of the Gallo-Roman dialects of Gaul, and evolved into Old French "boisse," which meant "a measurement of grain," and this produced "boissel," "a unit of measurement." English borrowed the word (initially as "busshel?") in the first half of the 1300s (meaning: 4 pecks or 8 gallons). Baskets were developed to hold a "bushel," thus, "a bushel basket," and the translated biblical expression, "hide (a light or lamp) under a bushel."    

^ See "Etymological Dictionary of Proto-Celtic" by Ranko Matasović, Brill (Publisher), 2009

Tyrol Bacon Dumplings: Tiroler Speckknödel

"Tiroler Speckknödel" seemingly date back about 800 years! While the Tirol region* seems to be the place of origin of these splendid dumplings, "Speckknödel" are not uncommon in parts of Bavaria. There are some variations for Speckknödel; as for instance, some people fix them without onion, while others use some marjoram in the dough. Firm salami type sausages are commonly used as the sausage component for "Speckknödel," and while 6 to 7 cups of bread pieces may seem like a lot, it really isn't, as the pieces should be loosely put into a cup, not pressed in. The dumplings are often simply eaten in beef broth or with sauerkraut or with a salad. I get about 12 golf ball size dumplings from this recipe.

Ingredients:
6 to 7 loosely packed cups dried bread or rolls, cubed or crumbled into small pieces (about like large lima beans in size)
1/3 to 1/2 pound bacon, thick rind removed, and then chopped
1/4 pound firm salami-type sausage, chopped 
1/2 cup onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup milk
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon flour (perhaps another tablespoon)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon parsley
salted water to cook
chopped chives for garnish

In a skillet over low heat, melt the butter and then add the finely chopped onion, cook for about 2 to 3 minutes. Now add the bacon and sausage, increase the heat to medium, and cook for a few minutes, until the bacon has softened (do not let the bacon or sausage get crispy), remove from the heat and let the mixture cool down somewhat. In a bowl, add the bread pieces, bacon mixture, eggs, salt, parsley, 1 tablespoon of flour, and the milk. Mix everything together by hand for a minute or two, then cover the bowl and let it sit for about 15 minutes or so. In the meantime, bring a pot or pan of water seasoned with some salt to a boil. Wet your hands with some cold water, and roll some of the dough into golf ball sized dumplings. Add the dumplings to the boiling water and adjust the heat so that the water is simply simmering, not seething. Cook the dumplings for about 12 to 15 minutes, and just because they float, doesn't mean they are done. Keep turning the dumplings in the simmering water until the time has passed. Remove them with a slotted spoon to a plate covered with paper towels or napkins to let them drain or add them straightaway to bowls of hot beef broth and sprinkle with chopped chives.

* The Tirol region was a part of the Old German Empire (Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation), and came under the control of the Habsburg family, the head of which was the Archduke of Austria, and who was long elected as the German emperor. When this entity was disbanded (1806), Tirol was a part of the new Austrian Empire (announced in 1804), which later was reorganized and renamed the Austro-Hungarian Empire (1867), or Austria-Hungary as a somewhat shorter form. After World War One, the southern districts of Tirol (called South Tirol, or Südtirol in German) were ceded to Italy for its entry into the war on the Allied side and this became a part of the Italian Alto Adige region. Some of the world's great skiers are from both the Austrian and Italian areas of Tirol.

WORD HISTORY:
Sinew-This word goes back to Indo European "sneh," which had the notion "to twist together, to connect together, to weave together." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "sinawo," which meant "sinew, tendon," which gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "seonu" and "sinu," depending upon dialect, both forms with the same meaning. This then became "sinue" (the ending 'e' pronounced eh/ah),  before the modern version. The other Germanic languages have: German "Sehne" (sinew, tendon), Low German Saxon "Sehn" (sinew, tendon), Dutch "zenuw" (nerve, sinew), West Frisian "sine" (sinew, tendon), Norwegian "sene" (tendon, sinew), Icelandic "sin" (tendon), Swedish "sena" (tendon, sinew), Danish "sene" (sinew, tendon).

Cornmeal & Sage Dumplings

"Generally," cornmeal dumplings are associated with the southern part of the United States, and there are variations to recipes; in fact, I've had a southern cookbook for about 45 years with a recipe for cornmeal dumplings; but it isn't the recipe I'm presenting here. The book is so old and worn, a couple of years ago I had to apply heavy packing tape to hold it together, something I may soon have to do with myself. Cornmeal dumplings are often served with greens, like collards or kale, but they are also a great accompaniment to roasted chicken; and of course, cornmeal dumplings are also used in soup. 

Ingredients:

2/3 cup yellow cornmeal (you won't turn into an iceberg if you use white cornmeal)
2/3 cup flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3 tablespoons finely chopped onion, sauteed in a little butter, about a teaspoon
2/3 teaspoon ground black pepper 
2 tablespoons butter
1/3 cup buttermilk (a little more, by the tablespoon, if needed)
3 tablespoons chopped sage 
4 to 5 cups chicken broth for cooking

In a small skillet, saute the onion until it softens. While the onion is cooking, mix together all of the dry ingredients (cornmeal, flour, baking powder, baking soda, pepper). Using a fork, cut the butter into the dry ingredients until it forms bits of coarse meal. Add the sage, softened onion and buttermilk, then mix as little as possible to just bring everything together into a dough. Heat the chicken broth in a sauce pan and bring to a gentle, but steady, boil. Drop heaping tablespoons of dough into the hot broth. You can cover the pan, but I don't. Cook the dumplings for about 12 to 15 minutes, just checking to make sure the dumplings don't stick.

After removing the dumplings, I strain the broth and use it to make gravy.

Cornmeal dumplings with gravy, roasted chicken and corn...

WORD HISTORY:
Bucket-This word is distantly related to "bulk," a word from Germanic, but the specific form "bulk" was borrowed by English from the North Germanic branch of Germanic. "Bucket" is also closely related to the now UK dialectal word "bouk," which means "belly," and also, "torso." "Bouk" is an original English word from its Germanic roots, and it has relatives in other Germanic languages, including German "Bauch" ("belly," "torso"). It goes back to Indo European "bheu," which meant, "to swell, to puff up/out" (a variant form was "bhel," which also meant, "to swell"). The Indo European form gave Old Germanic "buka," meaning, "main part of the body, the trunk, the torso;" but with that part of the body having the abdomen, it also came to be used for, "belly," and this gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "buc," meaning "belly," but also figuratively, "jug, container," "likely" from the idea of a "waterskin," an animal bladder or stomach used to carry water or other liquids, which "bulged out when filled." This meaning "seems" to have been melded into the closely related Frankish form, "buk," meaning, "belly," and this was absorbed into Old French with the added diminutive suffix "et," as "buquet," but meaning, "container for carrying water or liquids, a pail." This "returned" to England with the Normans with that meaning and it was borrowed into English (and blended with the existing English form), initially as "buket," in the mid 1200s.      

Apple Dumplings Of Another Kind

This is not the traditional recipe for apple dumplings, which are cored apples, seasoned with spices and butter and then wrapped up in dough and baked. These dumplings are more of what many people think of AS dumplings, being a dough cooked in boiling water. Apples are generally mild tasting, so using a lot of spices can really overwhelm their flavor. I used some apple juice as the basis for a sauce, or sort of icing, as the topping for the dumplings. I just used a small pinch of cinnamon to dust each serving. The basic recipe for the dumplings themselves comes from Germany, with my adjustments, and the Germans often serve them with a red wine based sauce.

Ingredients:

4 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons sugar
grated peel of one lemon
2 eggs
2 1/2 cups flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup milk
1 large apple finely chopped (I chose not to peel the apple, but you most certainly can do so)
1/2 cup apple juice or apple cider
2 1/2 to 3 1/2 cups powdered sugar (depending upon desired thickness)
cinnamon for dusting

Beat together the butter and sugar. Mix in the lemon peel and eggs. Mix the baking powder into the flour, add the milk and mix with the lemon peel/egg to form a dough. Mix in the finely chopped apple. Drop tablespoon size amounts of dough into a pot of lightly salted simmering water. The dumplings will float after a short time, but let them cook for a total of about 5 minutes thereafter, using a long spoon to make sure none of the dumplings stick to the bottom of the pan, and to make sure the dumplings are turned a couple of times during the cooking time. Remove dumplings with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. For the icing/sauce: mix 2 1/2 cups powdered sugar into the apple juice. Mix in more sugar depending upon how thick you want the sauce. Spoon some sauce over each serving of dumplings and dust very lightly with cinnamon.

WORD HISTORY:
Thirst-This word, distantly related to "terra" (ground, land), a word of Latin derivation borrowed by English, goes back to Indo European "ters," which had the notion, "to dry, to become dry." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "þurstu" ^ (equals modern, "thurstu"), meaning, "dryness in the throat;" thus, "thirst." This gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "þurst" (="thurst"), which then became "thurst," before the modern version. The verb form in Old English was "þyrstan" ("to thirst"), and it also had the figurative meaning, "to strongly desire," a meaning that has continued to this day. Relatives in the other Germanic languages (nouns): German has "Durst," Low German Saxon "Dörst," ^^ West Frisian "toarst," Dutch "dorst,'' Danish "tørst," Icelandic "þorsti" (not to be confused with their word for "thirsty," which is, "þyrstur"), Norwegian "tørst," Swedish "törst."

^ The 'þ' is called a "thorn," an old letter/symbol in the English alphabet, as well as some other alphabets in Germanic languages, as it came from the old Germanic runes, the letters/symbols used by the Germanic tribes for their writings. It is still used by Icelandic (see above in words related to "thirst"). It is written as "th" in modern English. 

^^ Once spelled exactly as its English cousin, "thurst," in the Middle Ages.

Mecklenburg Dumplings & Spiced Pears

This is a dessert dish from the region of Mecklenburg, part of the northern German state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, a large state that runs along the Baltic Sea. In German the dish is often referred to as, "Mecklenburger Klöße mit Birnen" ("Mecklenburg Dumplings with Pears").

Ingredients:

For the pears:
3 or 4 ripe, but firm, pears, peeled, cored and quartered
water to cover
1 cinnamon stick
lemon peel from one lemon
3 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch mixed with 4 tablespoons water
pinch of salt

For the dumplings:
1/4 cup melted butter
2 tablespoons cream
2 large eggs or 1 jumbo egg
1 teaspoon sugar
pinch of nutmeg
1/2 cup (more or less) finely ground breadcrumbs

Put the peeled, cored and cut pears, the cinnamon stick, the lemon peel, the sugar and the salt in a pan and add just enough water to cover. Simmer the pears until they have softened, but not so that they are mushy. Add the cornstarch/water mixture and continue to stir until the liquid thickens a bit. It is not supposed to be super thick, however. In the meantime, bring a pan with about 5 to 6 inches of water to a gentle boil. Beat together the butter, eggs, sugar and cream until foamy, mix in the nutmeg and salt. Gradually add the breadcrumbs until a dough forms. If a good dough forms by using less than 1/2 cup of breadcrumbs, that is okay. Likewise, if you need more than 1/2 cup breadcrumbs, add an extra tablespoon at a time, until the dough forms. A "good dough" should be able to hold its shape when put into simmering water. Use a tablespoon to scoop out the dough to form the dumplings and put them into the boiling water. Cook about 5 to 6 minutes. Use a slotted spoon to remove the dumplings. 

Click to enlarge... I've left the cinnamon stick and a piece of lemon peel on the pears purely for the photo

WORD HISTORY: 
Pear-The ultimate origin of this word is unknown, but it goes back to Latin "pirum," meaning, "pear," the plural of which was "pira," apparently mistakenly thought of as a singular when borrowed by Germanic, giving Old English "pere," with the ending "e" pronounced as "eh/ah." The term also spread throughout the other Germanic dialects, giving the modern Germanic languages: German "Birne," ^ Low German Saxon "Beer," Dutch "peer," West Frisian "par," Danish and Norwegian "pære," Icelandic "pera" and Swedish "päron."

^ German too spelled the word with a "p" long ago, but the "b" variation came about and became the dominant form. I wonder if some Germans confused the word with "beri," the forerunner of modern "Beere," the close relative of English "berry?" The "n" seems to have appeared in the 1200s.

Dumplings: Rumaki Liverwurst Filled

Rumaki liverwurst* filled dumplings is something I came up with on my own; not that it took a period of deep thought.

To make this a very simple process, you can buy the dumpling dough already made, rolled out and cut. They are sold in many supermarkets in the refrigerated section, and, of course, Asian markets will have them. 

Brush the edges of the dumpling with water. Add a small clump .... I mean, amount, of liverwurst. Fold the dumpling over and press the edges together. Use a fork to press and "seal" the dumpling edges. Put the dumplings into simmering water. They will float when done, but I always give them about 30 seconds more, but not much more; you don't want them to split open. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain.

With Sweet & Spicy Thai Chili Sauce on the side **

* The recipe for Rumaki liverwurst is at this link:   http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2017/08/rumaki-liverwurst.html

** The recipe for the Thai Chili Sauce is at this link:  http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2016/10/sweet-spicy-thai-chili-sauce.html

WORD HISTORY:
Scale-English has more than one word of this spelling, but this is the noun for "a device for weighing." This word is closely related to "shell" and to "scale;" that is, the word of the same spelling, but meaning, "covering for fish," and, "flakes of dry skin." This form of the word goes back to Indo European "skel," which had the notion "to cut, to split, to chip." This gave Old Germanic "skela," meaning, "shallow vessel for food or drink made by splitting apart mollusk shells." This gave Old English "scealu," which meant, "shell;" thus then, "cup, bowl;" thus, "dish or pan used to hold items for weighing on a scale of balance," with the latter meaning later transferring to the whole weighing device by the late 1300s to early 1400s. The Danes, who spoke Old Norse, reinforced the word, and influenced its pronunciation by bringing their form of the same word, "skál" (bowl), to England. Relatives in the other Germanic languages have largely kept the original meaning, "cup, bowl, dish:" German "Schale" (cup, shallow bowl, and it was once spelled "scala"), Dutch "schaal" (dish, bowl, but also dish/pan for a scale), West Frisian "skaal" (dish), Danish, Norwegian and Swedish "skål" (bowl, dish; long ago, the word also meant "drinking cup," which brought about the use of "skål," as a drinking toast; like, "cheers," "to your health"), Icelandic "skál" (bowl, basin). "Apparently," Low German dialects no longer use a form, but Low German Saxon once had "skala," then, "schale." 

German Bread Dumplings (Semmelknödel)

Bread dumplings (Semmelknödel) are common in many parts of Bavaria and Austria; in fact, they are a part of the food culture in these areas. Making bread dumplings is a great way to use leftover bread or rolls. The standard German word for a bread roll is "Brötchen," the diminutive of "Brot" (bread); thus, literally, "little or small bread," but there are several dialect terms, including "Semmel," in much of Bavaria and Austria. Traditionally, rolls are used to make these dumplings, but you can use bread, although this may make you a target of the "Semmelknödelpolizei" ("Bread Dumpling Police"), who are the "flour" of the food police. "Knead" I say more?

Ingredients:

10 stale kaiser rolls (or 10 large slices of stale white bread)
3 to 4 tablespoons flour
4 tablespoons bread crumbs (panko are best)
1 to 1 1/2 cups heated milk
1 onion, finely chopped
1 tablespoon butter
2 eggs, beaten
1 teaspoon salt
10 parsley sprigs, chopped
pinch of nutmeg or mace
salted simmering water

Slice the rolls or bread, put them into a bowl and add 1 cup of the heated milk. Depending upon the dryness of the rolls, you may need up to a half cup more milk, but wait until you see that the extra milk is necessary. You want the rolls softened, not mushy. Soak the rolls for half an hour. Meanwhile, heat 5 to 6 cups of water in a pan. Add some salt to the water and bring it to a simmer. Melt the butter in a skillet and add the onion. Saute until the onion is softened. Add the onion to the bread, and add the beaten eggs, the bread crumbs (if the "dough" is too mushy, wring it out a bit and add some more bread crumbs), the salt, the nutmeg and the parsley. Mix everything by hand, but don't over knead the dough, which should be fairly firm. Form the dough into rounds about the size of golf balls. Roll each round in flour on a plate, just to coat. Shake off excess flour. Put the dumplings into the simmering water, but don't overcrowd the pan; cook them in batches. The dumplings will float when done, although I give them 1 or 2 extra minutes after they float. Serve with meat dishes with plenty of gravy or meat juices. 

In this picture I used beef gravy, sliced tomatoes and a good beer.

WORD HISTORY:
Scrape-This word, distantly related to "scribe," "script" and "shear," goes back to Indo European "sker," which had the notion "to cut," and to its extended form, "skerb," which meant, "to cut into, to carve, to engrave." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "skrepanan," which meant, "to scrape, to shave, to scratch up." This gave Old English the verb forms, "scrapian" and "screpan" (depending upon dialect), both meaning, "to scrape, to scratch." These then became "scrapen," reinforced by the related Old Norse form, "skrapa," which had the same meaning. The Old Norse form likely influenced the pronunciation of the English word, changing it from the "sh" beginning, to the hard beginning sound as if, "skrape." The other Germanic languages have: German "schrappen" (to scrape, to scratch"), Low German Saxon "schrapen" (to scrape, to scratch), Dutch has three forms:  "schrapen" (to scrape), "schrabben" (to scrape or scratch) and "schrappen" (to scratch through or scratch out (that is, "cancel"), West Frisian "skraabje" (to scratch), Danish "skrabe" (to scrape), Norwegian "skrape" (to scrape), Icelandic "skrapa" (to scrape), Swedish "skrapa" (to scrape).

Potato Dumplings (Kartoffelklöße)

German Kartoffelklöße, also known as Kartoffelknödel in Bavaria and Austria, as well as by a variety of other regional names, often with specific added ingredients, are pretty simple to make. There are many regional variations, as some people use egg, some use already cooked potatoes, some use a 50/50 proportion of raw and already cooked potatoes, and a few use all raw potatoes. Some use regular flour, some use semolina, some use breadcrumbs, some add finely chopped ham or bacon, and of course, sauteed onion is a common addition. Some are made round, some oblong, some are flattened. Some are large, while others are much smaller. So experiment, if you'd like, as this is only the basic recipe I have here, which is quite common. I may do some variation recipes here also.

Basic Ingredients:

potatoes, boiled, then mashed, use mealy/starchy potatoes (Russets are good for this)
flour
egg (optional)
salt
parsley, dried or fresh

Heat water in a pan large enough to hold a few dumplings at a time. Add a little salt to the water.
Take the mashed potatoes and mix in flour equivalent to a quarter of the potatoes (also if using egg, beat lightly and mix in). Add the parsley to mix it in. If the dough is still too sticky or loose, mix in small amounts of flour until you get the right consistency; that is, dough that will not fall apart easily in gently boiling water. If the dough is a little sticky, that's okay, as you don't want them to be too floury. It's a good idea to lightly coat the dumplings with flour before putting them into the water. Again, mealy potatoes are best, but if you use another type, civilization won't end. Form the dumplings into the size you prefer, and put them into gently boiling water. Don't crowd the dumplings in, and it's far better to work in batches so that they cook properly, while keeping the already cooked dumplings warm. They will float within a few minutes, but I give them another couple of minutes to make sure the flour content is completely cooked. Use a slotted spoon to remove the dumplings.

Potato dumplings with mushroom gravy and beets

WORD HISTORY:
Raw-This word, with a basic meaning, but with a variety of specific meanings, goes back to Indo European "kreuh," which meant, "uncooked, bloody flesh." This gave its Old Germanic offspring, "khrawaz," with the same meaning. This then gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon), "hreaw," meaning, "uncooked, raw, unprocessed." This then became "rau," then "raw." Forms in the other Germanic languages: German "roh" (as with English, it once had several spellings with "h," including, "hrowes"), Low German Saxon "rauh" (also like English, it once had spellings with "h," including, "hrao"), Dutch "rauw," Swedish, Danish, Norwegian "rå," Icelandic "hrár." As I've noted before, getting modern Frisian words is not easy, and the best I could find were previous spellings, "rä," and "rê."   

Kraut, Smoked Pork Chops & Dumplings (Kraut Sputel)

I had this dish many years ago, in what was then West Germany, in the state of Hessen, its place of origin. Northern Hessen (German: Nordhessen) is the area where part of my maternal German ancestors came from. The yeast dumplings, with bits of butter mixed in, are just FANTASTIC! This was the first time I made the dish, but it is well worth any effort. It's Hessian name is "Kraut Sputel," and "Sputel" is a Hessian dialect word, derived from German "sputen," a word closely related to the English word "speed." * The German term for the pork chops used is, "Kasseler Rippchen," and they are from pork loin, which is cut into pork chops. Kasseler Rippchen are salt cured, then lightly smoked. "Frankfurter Rippchen" are pork chops that are salt cured, but not smoked," obviously a specialty of the city of Frankfurt, in Hessen. The origin of the term "Kasseler Rippchen" (also spelled "Kassler") is a bit contentious, as there is a city in northern Hessen named "Kassel," where it is held that their city is the place of origin of the pork product. Others, however, have contended that the the name came from Berlin, where a butcher of that name, although perhaps with the spelling "Cassel," lived. The first part of German "Rippchen" is closely related to English "rib." **

Ingredients (4 servings):

For the dumplings:

1 cup flour (+ more for kneading and forming)
1/2 packet quick rising yeast
1/2 cup warmed milk
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 stick butter, flaked
1 egg

For the sauerkraut:

1 onion
2 cloves garlic 
2 tablespoons canola oil (in older times, lard was used)
1 1/2 pounds sauerkraut, drained and rinsed
2 juniper berries (optional, if using, crush them a bit)***
1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 cup chicken stock
4 smoked pork chops

In a bowl, mix the flour and salt. In a cup, add the slightly warmed milk (not hot!), sprinkle on the yeast and the sugar; allow to foam. Pour the milk and yeast into the flour, add the egg and butter flakes. Mix well, cover loosely with a towel or paper towel, let sit for about 30-35 minutes.

In a pan large enough to hold everything (preferably with a lid, although foil can be used as a cover), heat the canola oil over medium heat, then add the onion. Cook until the onion begins to soften, then add the garlic, cook no longer than about another minute, so as not to burn the garlic. Drain and rinse the sauerkraut, add it to the pan, then add the sugar and juniper berries (if using). Then stir in the stock, stir well, and cook for 10 to 12 minutes. Meanwhile, heat the oven to 375 degrees (F). Remove the sauerkraut from the heat. Knead the dumpling mixture for a few minutes, adding extra flour, if needed, to make sure the dough is not wet or sticky. Form the dough into four equal size dumplings. Place the pork chops into the warm kraut in an upright or near upright position, leaving space between the chops. Into each of those spaces, place one dumpling. Cover the pan with a lid or use aluminum foil (cover tightly, or the dumplings might not rise properly, and even dry out). Into the oven the pan goes for about 1 hour. Remove the pan from the oven, the dumplings should have risen and spread out (see photo below).        

* For the history of the word "speed," here's the link: http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2013/04/do-we-need-traffic-laws-ask-nra.html

** For the history of the word "rib," here is the link: http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2015/03/the-last-of-sheila-great-whodunit.html

*** If you've never used juniper berries, they come from certain evergreen trees; thus, the "berries" are actually little "cones" from these trees, but they look a lot like blueberries, but dried. They are most famous for the flavor they give to gin (see Word History below). The German for "juniper berries" is "Wacholderbeeren."
.
The sauerkraut goes in the bottom of the pan, and the pork chops are then stood on edge, or nearly so, with the dumplings wedged in between. I only fixed two chops, and if I had it to do over, I would have divided the dough to make three dumplings, by putting the third on the other side of one dumpling. This photo is of the cooked dish, just from the oven. Look at the pork chop in the second photo! Wow! Hessians might have a glass of apple wine with this dinner, as it is a specialty of Hessen, especially Frankfurt and vicinity, where the dialect term apple wine is "Ebbelwoi," with other similar dialect forms used elsewhere in Hessen. Of course, beer is always common with Germans, and white wine is also common.

WORD HISTORY:
Gin-The origin of this word is unknown, but it goes back to Latin "iuniperus," which meant "juniper" (the name of the tree). This gave Old French, a Latin-based language, "genevre," and Dutch borrowed the word from French as "genever." English borrowed the word circa 1400, but it began to be spelled "geneva," seemingly influenced by the name of the Swiss city, and then the word was shortened from this to "gin" in the early 1700s, as the name for the alcoholic drink flavored with juniper berries. 

Rutabaga and Ham Stew with Dumplings

A "rutabaga" is generally a softball-size root vegetable, resembling a large turnip. In England it is often referred to as a "Swede," seemingly because they were popular in Sweden. They are hearty and have been used as a cold weather vegetable in some places. During World War One in northern Germany, rutabagas were given credit for keeping many people from starvation in winter. This is my own recipe, although I must admit to likely being influenced by several recipes from northern Germany I've seen over the years.

ingredients:
1 softball size rutabaga (peeled and diced)
1 carrot, chopped
1 large onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 cup chopped ham (I use lean cottage ham)
2 1/2 cups water
1 tablespoon marjoram leaves
3 tablespoons ham soup base
salt (minimal, if any, as the soup base is salty)
1 tablespoon black pepper
(to thicken: 2 to 3 tablespoons of flour mixed well with the same amount of butter or with the same amount of water, plus 1 tablespoon)*
dumpling mixture (1 cup all purpose flour, sifted with the other dry ingredients; 1 teaspoon baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 2 tablespoons butter, 5 tablespoons milk)**

Add all of the ingredients to a heavy-bottomed pot (with tight-fitting lid), except for the flour and water or butter, and the ingredients for the dumplings. Simmer the ingredients until the carrot and rutabaga are tender, but not falling apart. Mix the flour with the butter, or water, making sure it is smooth. Gradually add the thickening mixture to the hot ingredients, stirring constantly to prevent lumps. Keep the heat low. Make the dumpling mixture by cutting the butter into the sifted dry ingredients with a fork until it is a coarse mixture. Add the milk and gently mix until just mixed together. Do not keep mixing. Drop tablespoons of the dumpling mixture into the hot stew, cover with a lid and let cook for 18 to 20 minutes. The extra cooking for the dumplings will help to cook the raw flavor out of the flour used to thicken the stew.

* You can always adjust the amount to thicken the stew as you prefer.

** I often cheat ... I mean, I take a short cut by buying a tube of biscuits and using several of them in the stew. I cut them in half and add them to the stew, put the lid on and leave to cook for about 10 to 12 minutes. They make great dumplings. 

WORD HISTORY:
Stove-There is much about the origin of this word that is uncertain, so try to follow along. It "possibly" comes from Old Germanic, or it "could" be an ancient borrowing from Latin, as there are similar words in the descendants of both Germanic and Latin, although I "suppose" it is just as possible to have been borrowed into Latin from Germanic. Whatever the case, where either Germanic or Latin got the basis for the word is also still an open question. "If" Germanic, it may well be derived from Germanic, "staubfmaz," a form of which, "staumaz," gave modern English "steam," Dutch "stoom" (steam) and Low German Saxon "Stoom" (dust, from the notion of steam, mist). "If" from Latin, that language had "stupha" (and the "assumed" word "extufare," from the common people), a word seemingly borrowed from Greek "tuphos," which meant "smoke," but also "vapor, steam." As you can see, the possible ancestors of "stove" are so close, it is difficult to say which is THE ancestor. Anyway, Old English had "stofa" (also "stofu"), which meant "room with a heated bath; that is, a bathroom." Later the English meaning was influenced by Dutch, itself seemingly influenced by French or Italian, where forms of the word had taken on the meaning "appliance used to cook food" (from the notion of "heated room, chamber), but this meaning didn't really take hold in English until the 1600s. The other Germanic languages have: German "Stube" (warmed room, family room, also sleeping room in a barracks, with the 'warmed' meaning implied), Dutch "stoof" (stove), I did not find a modern form in Frisian, nor in Low German Saxon, which once had "stove," although I did find "Stow," which is perhaps used on a limited basis by some dialects for "room," Swedish "stuga" (cottage), Icelandic "stofa" (living room), Danish "stue" (living room), Norwegian "stue" (living room).

NOTE: In Britain the word "stove" also has a secondary meaning of "greenhouse" (a warmed room to grow plants).

I'll Have The Goulash

This was published in August 2012, more as a general article, but I added the actual recipe November 29, 2016.


I got into my cooking mode a couple of days ago, and I fixed two great dishes, which lasted for a couple of meals. I made "goulash" and bacon dumplings (German: "Speckknödel" *). There is some disagreement about the history and preparation of goulash, but it developed among Hungarian herders** who fixed a thick soup of beef, peppers, onions, chopped tomatoes,*** paprika (a Hungarian specialty), and perhaps some other items, especially caraway, but also garlic, potatoes, or carrots, and typically thickened with flour. Hungary was ruled for quite some time by the Habsburg dynasty, and later it gained a large degree of equality in an agreement in 1867, making the former Austro-German dominated Austrian Empire into a shared empire called Austria-Hungary, or the Austro-Hungarian Empire. With Vienna (German: "Wien") the capital city of the multi-ethnic empire, lots of different peoples and foods influenced the culture of the city, and the Viennese picked up goulash from the Hungarians, albeit with their own version,**** which made it into more of a real stew, rather than a thick soup. The stew became something of a Viennese specialty, typically accompanied by bread dumplings (German: "Semmelknödel"), a close cousin to the bacon dumplings I made.

Well, many years ago in Frankfurt, Germany, there was a little restaurant called "Servus" (pronounced "zair-voos"). The word is known throughout the German-speaking lands, but it is more typical in southern German lingo; that is, more so in Bavaria and especially in Austria, and it is used as either a greeting or farewell, depending upon circumstance; thus it means "hello" or "goodbye." Wow did "Servus" have good food! It was owned by a fairly young couple, and I went in so many times, the lady asked me why I had become such a good customer. Well, one of the reasons was the goulash, or "Gulasch," in German, and the other was "Zwetschgenknödel" (plum dumplings). Now, the standard German word for "plum" is "Pflaume," a close relative to the English form, as centuries ago Old Germanic borrowed a form from Latin, giving both English and German forms of the word. For the history of the words "plum" and "prune," see my article at this link:  http://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2013/04/plum-pudding-and-plum-cake.html    However, many German dialects use forms of "Zwetsche"***** for "plum." There are numerous spellings and pronunciations, including "Quetsche" in much of Hessen, the German state where Frankfurt is located, and "Quetschkuche," or "plum cake," is common in that area.

Anyhow, the lady proceeded to tell me she was from Austria and that her husband was Hungarian. Alas, the old empire was recreated. When I asked her where she was from in Austria, she got a bit nervous, even saying I would have never heard of it. Finally she told me, and I certainly understood her anxiety about how I might react. She was from Braunau, a little town right across the border from the German state of Bavaria. In fact, during certain times in the past, the town had been part of Bavaria. So why was she so nervous? Because Braunau was the birthplace of Adolf Hitler. The full name is actually "Branau am Inn;" the "am Inn" meaning, "on the Inn (River)."

Germans, the ethnic group, and not just the specific nationality from Gerrmany, love dumplings, and they make them out of flour, potatoes, or even stale bread or rolls. They come in all shapes and sizes, sweet or savory, and with various added ingredients. "Speckknödel" are made from stale rolls, which are sliced and soaked in warm milk. Small strips of bacon and sausage (usually smoked) are lightly fried together and then added to the bread. Today most of us would pour off the fat before adding the meat to the bread, but that was not the case in the past, when bacon and sausage fat added flavor to the dumpling mixture, along with a substantial dose of cholesterol. A little salt and some parsley are mixed in, and egg and flour help to bind the dough, which is then rolled into dumplings somewhere about the size of ping pong balls or golf balls. A little coating of flour helps to keep the dumplings from falling apart. Ten to fifteen minutes in some salted, lightly boiling water and you're ready to go. Any leftovers can be sliced and fried lightly in butter for a snack or even served with eggs for breakfast, which is not uncommon. I don't waste anything, as the water will have residue from the cooked dumplings, giving you something on the order of a thick porridge.

Vienna-Style Goulash (Gulasch, Wiener Art) Recipe (this is my own version):

Typically this dish is cooked on the stove top, but I prefer to bake it at relatively low heat for a couple of hours. In the past, the beef would not have had the fat trimmed off of it.

2 pounds beef stewing meat (bite-sized pieces)
3 tablespoons of vegetable oil or sunflower oil
3 onions, chopped
3 tablespoons mild paprika (Hungarian, if you have it)
1 tablespoon hot paprika ("hot" paprika tends not to be terribly hot)
3 tablespoons tomato paste
1 teaspoon sugar (this helps to smooth out some of the acidity, use a little more, if needed)
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried marjoram (or you can substitute oregano)
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon caraway seeds
1 teaspoon red wine vinegar (or cider vinegar)
1/4 cup beef stock (I suppose you could substitute beef bullion, but don't be surprised if the Viennese put a curse on you, where you hear 24 straight hours of waltz music)
1 or 2 teaspoons salt (your preference; I use seasoned salt)
1/2 teaspoon black pepper

I use a heavy duty pan with a lid to make goulash. I add the oil first, then I add all of the other ingredients, then I mix it all well. I bake it at 275 degrees (F) for an hour, then I stir it, then I turn the heat down to about 250 (F) and let it bake for another 90 minutes. Check to be sure the meat is tender, giving the meat as much time as it needs to bake. The relatively low heat isn't going to hurt it, and your patience will be greatly rewarded with a delicious goulash.
 
If you want the goulash very thick, as I do, mix 1 tablespoon flour with 2 tablespoons water, making sure the flour is well mixed in. Stir the mixture into the goulash near the very end of cooking, and return it to the oven for about 5 minutes. Since I fix my goulash in an oven safe pan, I simply put the pan on the stove (low heat) and add the flour/water mixture, stirring until it is thickened and the flour taste is cooked out, which only takes a couple of minutes. Remember to remove the bay leaf before serving. I must admit, on occasion over the years, I have used bullion instead of real beef stock and nothing ever happened to me ... Hey! What's that music? Do I hear a waltz?  

* Also called "Tiroler Speckknödel."

** The Hungarian word for "herder, herdsman," "gulyas," lies behind the word "goulash."

*** I once read a recipe for goulash by a lady whose Hungarian mother or grandmother, I now cannot remember which, was adamant that "real Hungarian goulash" did NOT have tomatoes in it. I'll stay out of the argument, except to say that everyone has their own recipes for various foods, and goulash is no exception, including in Hungary. Just a possible explanation though: the passing down of recipes for goulash could likely date from a time before tomatoes were accepted as being safe in Europe. Tomatoes came from the New World, and they were originally thought to be poisonous, thus it is not out of the question that early recipes for the dish did not include tomatoes, and that omission was retained by many people, as the recipe was passed down.

**** The more typical Viennese style (German: "Gulasch, Wiener Art") uses beef, onions, some tomato puree or paste, paprika, salt, pepper and caraway, although some cooks add garlic, and/or, a bit of vinegar. I improvised a bit, using some tomato paste and about a heaping tablespoon of thick ketchup, which provided just a tad of vinegar. It should be slowly braised (a slow cooker is good for this) and end up rather dark in color, somewhat on the order of dark red wine. A variation of this is served with a fried egg on top, as well as one of the famous Vienna-style sausages ("Wieners," to Americans; German: "Frankfurter Würstl"), and a pickle, which in restaurants has one end cut into a fan shape. This is then called "Fiakergulasch," or "Cabbie's Goulash," with a "Fiaker" being the name for a two-horse carriage used as a cab long ago. The name was also used for the cab driver. 

***** The various forms of Zwetsche are not native German words, but another borrowing, "perhaps" from a non-German dialect from the alpine border area of northern Italy and eastern France.

WORD HISTORY:
Cook-This "seems" to go back to Indo European "kekewo," "perhaps" a variant form of "pekwo," which seems to have meant "to ripen;" the notion being to prepare inedible raw food until it is 'ripe;' that is, ready to eat. Latin had "coquus," which was borrowed into Old Germanic as "kukaz," a noun form. This gave its Anglo-Saxon (Old English) offspring "coc," which later became "cook." The Latin verb form "coquo" was likewise borrowed by Old Germanic as "kokanan," which then gave Old English "cocian," as well as "gecocsian," both meaning essentially "to cook." The latter died out or merged with the former, which then became "coken," before the modern form. Noun and verb forms are common throughout the other Germanic languages: German has "Koch" and "kochen" (meaning "cook, boil"); Low German Saxon "Kock" and "kaken/koken;" Dutch has "kok" and "koken;" Danish has "kok" and "koge;" Icelandic has the noun "kokkur" ("chef"); Swedish has "kock/kocken" and "koka;" and Norwegian has "kokk(en)" and "koke" ("boil"). Apparently Frisian does not use a form of the word in modern times, but it once had "koka."