Spaetzle — hard to say but delicious to eat. Find it at this German restaurant in Tacoma

“Just like schnitzels and pretzels, you have to have spätzle on the menu,” said chef Kelly Wilson. “Otherwise you’ll be written off as not being a German restaurant.”

In the Rhein Haus kitchen in Tacoma’s Stadium District, he and his team do not cut corners when it comes to most anything — from real lye pretzels to freshly shelled peas — and they most assuredly do not for the beloved German dumpling.

Known collectively as Teigwaren, German “dumplings” entail any dough-ball or noodle-esque nub that might find solace in a soup, below a gravy or bathed in sauce. Maultaschen, for instance, resemble ravioli, while Reibele acts as a noodle but rather than being rolled thin and cut, like linguine for instance, the dough is grated.

“Dumplings are to the German cuisine what pasta is to the Italian,” explains food writer (and first woman to hold the New York Times restaurant critic seat) Mimi Sheraton in her 1965 tome The German Cookbook. They vary in “size, shape and texture, depending upon the food and flavors they must complement, and the liquid they must absorb or carry.”

Wilson has harnessed that universal appeal in his seasonal approach to spätzle, commonly seen as spaetzle in English.

“It’s just kind of a blank canvas for you to be able to use whatever you might have in the fridge,” he said.

With the first green stems of the season, his spring rendition showcases asparagus, pretty pea tendrils and peas, shelled in house, a tedious if therapeutic affair. Past spins have featured saffron and squid ink — two of the chef’s favorites — but the broccoli and cheddar stole the hearts of many-a-Tacoman, he laughed.

The sizable restaurant, which closed for a pandemic spell last year and has since renovated its patio overlooking Wright Park, typically pours through 80 pounds of spätzle a week, produced in about 20-pound batches.

An egg noodle at its core, the recipe calls for but five pantry ingredients, but like any dough, it can be overworked, too runny or too dry.

Wilson begins with flour, whole eggs and milk, a dash of salt and nutmeg (arguably nontraditional, he said), mixed until the consistency of super-smooth, spreadable but intact, pancake batter: “You don’t want it to be runny — then you’re gonna have egg drop soup,” he joked. At the same time, it shouldn’t be crumbly.

He lets the dough rest for about 10 minutes and grabs the spätzle maker, essentially an oversized cheese grater with perfectly round holes. Placing the metal board directly over a large pot of boiling water, he effortlessly presses about a cup of dough back and forth with a rubber scraper, each uniquely shaped piece dropping into the bath below for just 30 seconds.

Home cooks can achieve similar, if more time-consuming, results with a colander or slotted spoon. You can find the German brand Bechtle’s dried noodle at specialty markets, including Hess Bakery & Deli in Lakewood, but the boiled result reads more like a stroganoff base than the delightfully chewy present of homemade.

“I’m kind of a science geek,” said Wilson, adding that he relishes that moment of “letting it do its dance in the water.”

Spätzle translates to “little sparrow,” an origin that some liken to the dish’s native Swabia, in modern Germany the state of Baden-Württemberg that neighbors Bavaria. References date to the 18th century, when cooks might have pinched pieces of the dough by hand or used two small spoons to make petite ovals. Affectionately the term also stands in for sweetheart or how we might use the word “gem.”

Complicating this story further, what Rhein Haus serves is actually the Swiss knöpfle, which in German means knob. Immigrants likely popularized this style in America, where we might mistake a true spätzle for a spiralized potato. It also takes on various forms in Austria, Hungary, Slovenia, Luxembourg and Alsace, France.

“Spätzle in Germany is usually a longer, skinnier noodle — almost like spaghetti,” explained Wilson. “So some people will either love it or say it’s not what their grandmother made.”

After that quick boil and drain, the knöpfle spends several minutes in a hot frying pan with olive oil, enough to keep the sensitive noodles/mini dumplings from sticking, until golden brown and just a little bit crispy on the surface.

“That’s exactly what you’re looking for,” said Wilson, sprinkling parmesan and a light pour of milk. “You want to let that moisture evaporate.”

He prepares the spring greens separately, simply, their bitter bites bouncing pleasantly off the comforting warmth, with extra parm, of those little sparrows.

RHEIN HAUS TACOMA

▪ 649 Division Ave., Tacoma, 253-572-4700, rheinhaustacoma.com

▪ Wed-Thursday 4-8 p.m., Fri-Sat 4-9 p.m., Sunday 11 a.m.-3 p.m.

▪ Details: Bavarian-inspired restaurant and biergarten with an excellent German tap list

This story was originally published April 15, 2021 at 5:05 AM.