A treasure trove of homey, frugal fare

Black Forest Cuisine: The Classic Blending of European Flavors, By Walter Staib with Jennifer Lindner McGlinn, Running Press, 320 pp., $35

The cooking of Mitteleuropa -- the Central European region mainly comprised of Germany, Austria, Switzerland, and the Czech Republic -- has been taking off in restaurants and on the cookbook shelf lately. Walter Staib's new "Black Forest Cuisine: The Classic Blending of European Flavors" centers on one of that part of the world's most storied neighborhoods, Germany's Black Forest. The German-born Staib is chef and owner of Philadelphia's City Tavern.

Besides its reputation as a source of cuckoo clocks and Grimm's fairy tales, the Black Forest boasts a rustic cuisine that makes the most of its famous ham and other pork products. It shares a border with France, so clarified butter and bechamel turn up with some frequency, too. This is homey, frugal, and robust fare, with honey and mushrooms or winter vegetables often taking center stage. The stuffed cabbage recipe was substantial, sauced with paprika and sour cream, filled with pork and beef, and topped with bacon. My cabbage leaves proved hard to cut, but some cabbages, I suppose, are more vigorous than others.

Other vegetable dishes were equally satisfying. A simple salad of crisp-steamed green beans and smooth-sliced mushrooms, dressed with vinaigrette, proved that even the very familiar can be brought newly alive with little effort. The ubiquitous pork-and-cabbage formula got a smart remake in brussels sprouts braised with bacon. Though the combination of smoke and cold-season greens is nothing new, a handful of fennel seeds woke the flavors from their wintry slumber.

Most surprising was a lentil soup of uncharacteristic refinement. I thought I'd be getting a muddy but bone-warming brown slurry abounding in tired celery and carrots, but Staib's way of gently simmering finely diced aromatics and soaked lentils resulted in a clear broth of unexpected definition and character. The vegetables retained their shape and flavor, down to the tiny chopped bits of garlic.

The quiche with Black Forest ham is a must if you happen to get hold of a good specimen of the famous ham, flavorfully cured and thickly sliced. Baked with ample quantities of gruyere in an eggy, satiny custard, the quiche was easy enough for a weeknight, particularly if you make the crust in a food processor.

There were some disappointments in the batter-and-dough department. Black Forest ravioli, stuffed with pork and beef, were troublesome to work with, the stiff dough so hard to roll into pasta I practically needed a chiropractor afterward, then rubbery after poaching and sauteing in butter. Staib's spaetzle, a regional classic, turned out too runny. After being forced through a colander the mixture dissolved into a starchy (though flavorful) mush, rather than the chewy shreds I've eaten and made on happier occasions.

But in the sweet section, linzertorte, a borrowed treasure from neighboring Austria, came together quickly into a soft, forgiving, almond dough, which unfortunately yielded twice as much as needed. But thin slices of the final sticky jam tart vanished quickly, helped along with black coffee. Left-over dough went equally happily into linzer cookies and almond toast.

As a cookbook, "Black Forest Cuisine" has an elegant, readable design and gorgeous photographs of nearly every dish. The effect is cosmopolitan, an enchanting contrast when so many of the recipes conjure visions of gingerbread houses and trailing breadcrumbs through the pines. It's a fine companion to have along on a leisurely afternoon lost in the woods. The kind where you never leave your kitchen.