"(Remain ‘ere, get it? Romania? When you’ve acquired a taste for Romanian food but live in Dewsbury, options used to be limited. Not any more. At ‘La Mama’ on Daisy Hill, Dewsbury has its very own slice of authentic Romania on the rolling hills of West Yorkshire. If your taste buds tantalise at Timisoaran cuisine or salivate at the thought of Sibiu’s sizzling fare, then read on. If beautiful Bucharest menus float your boat or you dream of a cookery collage in a Cluj college then continue. This restaurant is a small family business who welcome you with open arms. I was invited in, made to feel like a long lost family member and, given the long hours worked (it’s open from 10am to 11pm seven days a week , such falseness would be found out. The establishment serves traditional family recipes, passed on through the generations that makes each recipe slightly unique whilst the prices are cheap enough that one can mix and match, easily choosing a couple of dishes each for all of the family to work your way through the extensive menu. We started with two bowls of soup Ciorba de burta (tripe soup and Ciorba de vacuta (beef soup between the four of us (two adults, two young children , one of beef and one of tripe. Now tripe, popular in Eastern Europe but derided in the UK, is not everyone’s cup of tea. And that’s fine. But why wouldn’t you try the dish when it is placed in front of you. Better yet, it is widely believed to be a hangover cure and that suits Mrs P, currently struggling after a Malibu marathon, but I’d better not tell her what is in this magical elixir. Seasoned with garlic dip, sour cream and vinegar, it’s bittery taste soon has Mrs P reaching for her glass of water, but I here no more of her headache so perhaps there is something in those rumours. A Romanian journalist called Radu Anton Roman said this about ciorba de burta: “This dish looks like it is made for drunk coachmen but it has the most sophisticated and pretentious mode of preparation in all Romanian cuisine. It’s sour and sweet, hot and velvety, fatty but delicate, eclectic and simple at the same time.” I’m not sure what to make of it. It is slightly unusual in taste for my palette, at times lemony and at others paprika ery (should probably have used peppery there! . My wife thought it would taste “weird but it doesn’t” and the sweet creaminess was surprising, as was the rush of heat from the diced garlic, mixed with oil, and the sour flavouring of the vinegar, the beefy, meaty flavour not really providing sustenance I’d believed it would, that coming from the array of flavoursome vegetables that go into the dish. It is the carrots which give the whole a wonderful sunshine colour, somewhere between yellow and orange, a sunflower painted by Van Gogh never looked as alive as this bowl of hot soup. There were sprinklings if roughly cut red chilli and more fresh garlic sitting like a pride of lions in the middle of the bowl, drawing out the colour, against the gleaming white bowl behind, very much like eating a bowl of sunshine when it’s actually the stomach of a cow. An ‘offal not awful’ headline briefly flashes through my mind as I attack the soup with a spoon, glancing up occasionally at my two daughters eating their own bowl, with spoons too big for their small but perfectly formed mouths, the heat of the soup leading them to blow harshly, small indentations in the reflection of their spoons as if pebbles strewn in a cold mountain stream, disturbed by the wind or a baby trout just passing through. I’m told it was very popular with the working classes. I’m told that it’s widely available as part of the menu in any cheap or moderately priced restaurant from Iasi (on the north east border with Moldova to Craiova (south west near the borders of Bulgaria and Serbia and from Constanta (on the south east coast of the Black Sea to Cluj (north western and not far from the Hungarian border . The source of this knowledge is the son of the business, currently enjoying a beef soup of his own and sharing it with his two young children, who sits nearby. Despite the lack of a common language, my own two children enjoy smiling and pulling faces at the two young Romanian children, who giggle in mutual appreciation and stick their tongues out in jest in return, all whilst eating their own bowl of the same soup. And that, I’m sure you realise, is not an easy thing to maintain. The children were unable to finish the bowl between them although portion sizes were fine rather than grandiose. I assume they were saving space for the next course. We drank water only but there are hot and cold beverages available too including tea, coffee, coke, Fanta and others. As I sipped bottled water to stave off the heat from outside, the working kitchen in full view offering its own delicious warmth and aroma, we could see our dishes being prepared as Mama Romania (as my girls christened the woman slaving by the stove worked feverishly, stirring a large saucepan one minute, chopping garlic the next, working on several dishes at once, all by herself, her white apron well worn and pockmarked with smears of her trade. We each had a white plate, sparklingly clean and carrying the fragrance of bubbles, before several dishes were placed before us. I immediately regretted ordering quite so much. The portion sizes were large and we’d chosen wisely, the chef eager to see what we thought of her creations. I’ll try and do them justice with my descriptions. I’d ordered schnitzels (Palermo and Vienez for the children, thinking them a relatively straight forward choice and they were served with fries and salad, a small jug of sauce and a wedge of lemon. There were two available, the traditional Wiener Schnitzel and one called Palermo and I aimed to cut them in half and let both girls try both. Yet my two children get defensive and the completely random order the plates were placed in front of them meant they were now personal possessions not to be shared not just with each other but with an eager father just hoping for a taste of one of the crunchy looking escalopes. Now, because I didn’t actually taste them, the rest of this part of the review may call upon a little imagination but I like to think the leap is not so great when the dinner table gets that appreciative hush where only the clattering of cutlery can be heard, the grateful murmurings of an agreeable meal and, as the hovering steam dissipates before our eyes, and, in the distance but just within eye line, you see the chef smile as her creation goes down in such well regarded esteem, I think I 've done the dish justice. The fries were crisp and light and quickly covered in a sauce the colour of curry ketchup, slightly bitter and with just enough heat to make the tongue sizzle, itself in a gentle simmer as if one of the saucepans just beyond the counter. The salad looked a little sad, not quite lifeless just weary as if it too struggled with the heat but the girls were not interested in that anyway. It was something daddy could polish off later. The schnitzel from Austria was crisp and meaty, the cuts made by a sharp knife held by my wife, cutting it into manageable pieces that the three year old devoured with gusto, as if unseen angels were singing in the distance, their voices carried only by a gentle breeze. The five year old ate the Palermo one, covered in grated parmesan cheese, much to her dairy delight. The breadcrumbs are added to chopped up anchovies, garlic, capers and parsley. The dish then uses oil, fresh tomatoes and plenty of oregano, prepared whilst the thin veal cutlets are left to marinade in oil and lemon juice. The cutlets, once drained, are covered evenly in breadcrumbs before they are grilled briefly then finished in the oven. The breadcrumbs were not too moist, clinging to the veal whilst the marinade adds flavour. Finished with lemon juice, which helps counter the salty flavour of the anchovy, the tasty veal was perfectly seasoned and was wonderfully tender and subtle. At least that 's how it looked on my daughter 's fork as the pink flesh poked through the golden breadcrumbs, the prongs disappearing into the dark tunnel before emerging naked, no sign of the young fawn and no bleating. As the girls ate these, my wife and I had a few plates to choose from. I 'd ordered mititei (meat long balls , Friptura de Porc (barbecued pork , Babgulyas (Hungarian goulash with beans , Sarmalute (cabbage rolls with mixed meat and Ciolan cu fasole (pork with beans and, unlike the above, I tried a bit of everything. Mititei are ill named for they are called balls but are not round, they are called long but are short and are sausage shaped, if slightly smaller. At least they were meaty. They were served hot which was surprising but not to their detriment (I expected them to be cold for some reason like Fleischkäse or liver sausage or mortadella . They were a dish of grilled ground meat rolls made from a mixture of beef, lamb and pork with spices, such as garlic, black pepper, thyme, coriander, anise, savoury, and a touch of paprika and my children quickly spied them from across their schnitzels and two small hands crept out towards them, eagerly biting into them with an approving grunt. They are similar to cevapi which I know from my time in Serbia and I had a generous smudge of mustard on my plate, as if acrylic paint blended with a palette knife. These sausages are barbecued on a wood fire and were succulent, well grilled and tasty and I recommend them. My wife felt they were suitable given the happy summery feel she associates from her childhood in Sardinia, eating outdoors, the smell of barbecue smoke in her nostrils. The Friptura de Porc I 'd ordered for my wife for the same reason she likes mititei, that smoky barbecue feel, this of roast pork. Using select cuts of pork shoulder, this fabulous pork was boned, which adds to the flavour, has a slightly muscular tissue marbled with a little fat, enhancing the flavour of the pork. Salted and prepared with cumin, the roasted pork is generously and beautifully sliced and the crispiness of the rind, which is rich in sodium and fat but low in carbohydrates, was perfectly cooked and served with potatoes, themselves bronzed at the edges. It was delicious and the small bite my wife allowed me, with meat and half a potato had me wanting more. She wouldn 't part with it and I don 't blame her. I had ordered the goulash for myself and I 've always maintained that cooking with lard adds a flavour that isn 't replicated in other, perhaps far healthier, options. This had been left simmering for hours, possibly more than that, and the many ingredients which made up this goulash were terrific. Onions and garlic were fried before the meat, beef, was added, seared and then peppers, tomatoes, carrots, turnips and celery are mixed into the large pot. Paprika and freshly ground black pepper are generously sprinkled over the vegetables before fresh thyme is added. The whole is then given a bath of salted water. When boiled, beans are added and cooked until soft. After mine is served it is garnished with sour cream. It was a very tasty treat as the last of the day 's sunlight coincided with my last spoonful of goulash followed by finishing the last of my bottled water. I quickly ordered another. Water that is. My wife was now trying another pork dish, this one called ciolan cu fasole (pork with beans whilst I had a favourite of mine, sarmalute (cabbage rolls with mixed meat . The first is a national dish of Romania, and is cooked slowly at a low heat, the smells from the small kitchen invading personal space but almost like a welcome intrusion. The beans have been soaked, probably overnight, and the smoked pork is delicious, having rested in the simmering sauce, tenderly torn from the bone and mouth wateringly beautifully soft, fragrant and tasty. It is best served, as here, with plenty of freshly made bread, mopping up the hearty gravy and the occasional diced vegetable. Sarmalute take the soft leaves of a soaked cabbage and are wrapped around various fillings, this one of minced meat which is well seasoned with garlic, onion and spices. Sometimes rice is included but not here, today, and the pickled cabbage is flavoursome although not my favourite vegetable I do like this dish. The filling is stuffed generously and the whole then baked, simmered or steamed in a covered pot and served warm, accompanied by a savoury sauce or occasionally yoghurt. Here the son gives us a brief overview of the tasty dish. “This dish is traditionally served on Christmas or at New Year’s Eve” he says, adding “but also in weddings, baptisms, parties and other celebrations. The ground pork is mixed with sautéed caramelized onions and rice stuffed in the cabbage leaf. It is usually layered and smoked pork fat or smoked sausage can be added for extra flavour.” “Is it a versatile dish?” I ask. “It sounds complicated to a novice like me.” “It is” says the man with a smile. “You can also eat it the next day, reheated or perhaps cold. It enhances the flavour.” The last time I tried to make this dish I wasn’t very successful. I had underfilled the leaves which I hadn’t left to soak for long enough meaning it was unevenly cooked, some soft as required but other bits harder and chewier, not at all what was required. Eating it again here today has given me an urge to try cooking it again but when it is so cheap to come and eat here I may as well get it made properly by a lovely woman and her welcoming family. I can also see myself preparing this dish and taking on a picnic, perhaps, or a long country walk. My girls are not so keen and they are a little awkward to eat, even for my longer fingers, with the hearty filling spilling onto my plate and having to be mopped up with a forkful of mince. The man adds, aimed at my children, “they are called little pigeons in Polish” getting a laugh in return. We weren’t finished yet as La Mama serves puddings too. We ordered both, the papanasi cu brinza si smantana (cheese and sour cream doughnuts and clatite cu jam, branza, ciocolata (pancakes with jam, cheese, chocolate . The girls liked the doughnuts and I, though not usually liking pancakes, enjoyed some of both. Again they seem simple in their execution but I know I’d not be a very successful baker of these delicious goods. The fillings are wonderful too. They were lighter than I’d expected which was just what was needed after such a lot of eating. I didn 't even mange to finish the girl 's salad. The traditional Romanian cuisine in a basic but almost old style working restaurant offered a pleasant evening’s dining at exceptional value. Yes we ordered too much and the menu offers a range of hearty options and the smells from the kitchen, separated only by a tall counter, offer a fuller glimpse into the dining experience. I felt privileged to be part of it and the chef was exceptional managing her guests for the full evening, keeping the drinks of the children topped up and a straw each, the food was cooked perfectly and served at the correct temperature. Even if I was expecting cold sausage. I definitely recommend a visit and we, too, will return. There are a range of burgers and gyros to try next time plus some more delicious sarmalute. Thank you Mama Romania. The full menu is below. Mititei (meat long balls Schnitzel (Palermo and Vienez available Friptura de Porc (barbecued pork Tocanita de Porc cu cartofi (pork cubes with fries Babgulyas (Hungarian goulash with beans Platou rece (cold plate Sarmalute (cabbage rolls with mixed meat Mic dejun (breakfast Ciorba de burta (tripe soup Ciorba de vacuta (beef soup Ciolan cu fasole (pork with beans They also sell hamburgers, cheeseburgers, gyros, hot dogs and chicken burgers. Desserts include papanasi cu brinza si smantana (cheese and sour cream doughnuts and clatite cu jam, branza, ciocolata (pancakes with jam, cheese, chocolate"
Schnitzel Viennese Style
