Mmh. That's one big lump o' meat we've got there (underneith all the colorful stuff - yes, that's right, there!). Actually, it's not that big a lump - I think this one was just shy of 120 grams. But I'm going too fast here - let me tell you a little about Pariserbøf.
Or actually, let me not. Because to be honest, I have no idea as to where this thing originated. I did try a Google search which came up with both England and France as countries of origin, but I've never had anything like this outside Danish borders. Sure, it must have some sort of sandwich-y ancestor. I suppose you could even call it the Danish version of the hamburger. But the true story, I don't know. I just know that it's good, and that Pariserbøf is what I often turn to when the protein-and-no-fresh-vegetables-in-sight-pangs strike me.
The last couple of years, it's been on a revival trip in some of the hip restaurants and café's around Copenhagen. Being a traditional Danish thing, something a lot of chef's try to incorporate into their menus and be proud of these days (and they should, too!) and being something a lot of the chef's I know love, how could they not let the goodness from the staff dinners flow out onto the menu?
But really, I like it best when it's made at home. Maybe because the man that, without discussion, makes the best Pariserbøf in the world is my Man - Martin - yes, I am counting my blessings, every single day - and maybe because at home, you're not stuck with waaaay too little beet and a plethora of raw onions when you want it the other way around. At home, you're the boss - at least in the topping department, heh!
What it is, when it all comes down to it, is a piece of toast (that white, cardboardy stuff, but it's all good here - you need it to suck up the juices) with a hamburger made from minced beef. You squish the hamburger onto the bread, salt and pepper generously and then fry it all in a liberal amount of butter - meat side first, then breadside. I never said it was healthy, did I?:-) I take mine on the medium-rare side, thank you.
And then, ooooh, then, comes all the good stuff - stuff that the dreams of at least some pregnant women I know are made of: pickled beets, raw onions, capers, pickles (our word for a concoction of different vegetables pickled in a mustardy sauce - I'll hopefully try making my own soon and will of course supply you with the recipe) fresh horseradish - and egg yolks. All piled on top of the still warm meat, the egg yolks melting out onto everything, making for a vinegary, smooth, crunchy, pungent topping. And, and...
Oh dear. I'm sure this most sound sooo weird. Writing it all down, I'm thinking... Oh well. I can't help it. I just