Early in the past century, ethnic clubs and churches were part of nearly every neighborhood and town. They were founded by the immigrants who came to America and worked mostly in the steel mills and coal mines. The clubs were dens of nostalgia and familiarity. Evenings and weekends, the new arrivals could get together to speak their language, eat comfort foods and share song, traditions and culture. But progress and assimilation have taken their toll, and the number of ethnic churches and clubs in Pittsburgh has dwindled.

Alyssa Cwanger, Post-Gazette Gathered at one of several tables at Schlachtfest, top, members of Teutonia Mannerchor on the North Side enjoy fellowship of a very traditional sort. Click photo for larger image. First in an occasional series This the first in a series about the ethnic clubs and traditions of Pittsburgh, their traditional celebrations and foodways. Details: Teutonia Mannerchor, 857 Phineas St., North Side; 412-761-9467.

T he ones that remain are going strong. Take the Germans.

Between 1850 and 1900, there were as many as 125 German singing clubs in the city. Teutonia Mannerchor was founded in 1854 on the North Side, then the city of Allegheny. In 2004, the club celebrated its 150th anniversary and is the leading German social and choral society in Western Pennsylvania.

Christel Van Maurik and her husband, Teutonia president Cornelius G. Van Maurik, invited me to take part in one of the club's favorite celebrations.

"Do you like pork?" she asked. "You must come to our Schlachtfest."

Giving directions, she said, "Cross the 16th Street Bridge to the North Side and you'll see in front of you a big German-style building, what they call wooden half-timbering with brick in-fill. That's Teutonia. We'll be in the rathskeller wearing ethnic dress -- my husband in his wool Bavarian suit and I'll wear my dirndl skirt.

"Oh, and come hungry."

A Schlachtfest is the celebration of the pig slaughter. On German farms, it was traditional to slaughter a pig in the autumn. An itinerant butcher visited the farm, dispatched and dismembered the pig and made the wurst according to his own recipe. The family, and often the neighbors, would then get together for a meal to sample the wurst and dine on the parts of the pig that could not be processed.

Teutonia Mannerchor's Schlachtfest is one of merriest parties ever. Members and guests jostle in the rathskeller, toasting each other with steins of beer. Rosy cheeks and laughter predominate. The meal is monumental.

Moving to the dining area, we're seated at a long table. Diners choose between pig knuckle or, for the faint of heart, roast pork. Side dishes are a choice of links of leberwurst, knockwurst, blutwurst and smoked sausage. Crowding the plate is a tangle of sauerkraut and a mountain of mashed potatoes with flowing brown gravy.

Need more fat and starch? Pass the buttered spaetzle, the bread and butter. Apple or cherry kuchen are offered to those still willing and able. Nothing washes it down better than good, hearty German beer, dankeschon.

Longtime member Joe Erny describes his pig knuckle this way, "It's 80 percent bone, 10 percent gristle, 5 percent fat and 5 percent of the sweetest ham you've ever eaten."

Adds Van Maurik: "You must drink a good schnapps for the digestion."

In her slightly accented voice, Van Maurik remembers her family's Schlachtfest when she was a girl in Germany. "Our family bought pigs when they were about 50 pounds. We fed them kitchen scraps, oats and other good stuff. When they weighed 300 to 400 pounds, it was time to make the family's meat, hams, bacon and wurst for the winter.

"We all got up early on the big day. The butcher came with helpers and set up his equipment in the cellar in a room we called the washhouse. We kids were not allowed to watch the killing, washing and scrubbing of the pig. As the carcass was divided, pieces were carried over to the other part of the cellar for specific preparations. Heavy string was put through the hams and bacon, which were later smoked. Other meat was put through a huge meat grinder for the wurst.

Alyssa Cwanger, Post-Gazette Christel Van Maurik, originally from Germany, now living in Ross, eats at Schlachtfest held at Teutonia Mannerchor, on the North Side. She is dressed in traditional German clothing. Her husband, Cornelius Van Maurik, is president of the club. Click photo for larger image.

"The butcher filled our big copper wash kettle, usually used for boiling clothes, and lit a fire under it. The fresh wursts were added to the boiling water to cook and sterilize. Upstairs, Mother was making sauerkraut and mashed potatoes. When everything was ready in the early afternoon, we had a feast with family and neighbors. It was an all-day affair, with afternoon coffee and dessert, usually pudding with lemon-cream.

"My sisters and I had a special job in the late afternoon. The kettle with the water had now turned to a rich wurstsuppe [sausage soup]. It was ladled into little pails and pitchers and a couple of little wurst were added. We carried the soup to good friends and neighbors so they could enjoy a little bit of our Schlachtfest. When their time came, they'd send some to us."

Wurstsuppe was the base of another dish, pannhas, a thick preparation of buckwheat flour cooked to a mush in the savory broth in which the sausages had been simmered. The mush could be eaten hot and fresh or kept cold to be fried when needed. It is the father of Pennsylvania scrapple. Over the years, American cornmeal took the place of the European buckwheat. If you've eaten "mush" for breakfast, you might just have a little German in you.

About the club

Teutonia Mannerchor began in 1854 as a men's singing society. It remains that today, promoting German music and culture.

In the early days, members did the cooking and serving. As membership grew, now about 2,000, the club added a full kitchen and hired a chef. There are several open lunches in December and free concerts during the year.

A singers' hall is an upstairs auditorium and doubles as a dance and dining hall. The rathskeller, an informal dining room and bar, is a German look-alike, with murals depicting rural German life.

Anyone can join Teutonia Mannerchor, although you must be sponsored by a current member. There is a small initiation fee and annual dues.

SPAETZLE (Tiny Dumplings)

• 3 cups flour
  
• 1 teaspoon salt, divided
  
• 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
  
• 4 large eggs
  
• 1 cup milk
  
• 1 cup fine dry bread crumbs (optional)

In a large mixing bowl, combine the flour, 1/2 teaspoon salt and the nutmeg. Break up the eggs with a fork and beat them into the flour mixture. Pour in the milk in a thin stream, stirring constantly with a large spoon, and continue to stir until the dough is smooth.

Bring 2 quarts water and the remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt to boil in a heavy 4- to 5-quart saucepan. Set a large colander, preferably one with large holes, over the sauce pan and with a spoon press the dough a few tablespoons at a time through the colander directly into the boiling water. Stir the spaetzle gently to prevent them from sticking to each other, then boil briskly for 5 to 8 minutes, or until they are tender. Taste to make sure.

Drain the spaetzle thoroughly in a sieve or colander. When spaetzle are served as a separate dish with roasted meats, they are traditionally presented sprinkled with toasted bread crumbs. To toast the crumbs, melt 1/4 pound of butter in a skillet over moderate heat. When the foam almost subsides, drop in the 1 cup bread crumbs and cook, stirring constantly, until the crumbs are golden brown.

Makes about 4 cups.

"The Cooking of Germany," Time-Life Foods of the World

ZITRONENCREME (Lemon Cream Dessert)

• 1 envelope unflavored gelatin
  
• 1/4 cup cold water
  
• 3 egg yolks
  
• 1/2 cup plus 3 tablespoons sugar
  
• 1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
  
• 2 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel
  
• 1 cup heavy cream
  
• 3 egg whites
  
• 1 lemon, cut into paper-thin slices (optional)
  
• 1/2 cup heavy cream (optional)
  
• 1 teaspoon confectioners' sugar (optional)

In a heatproof measuring cup or small bowl, sprinkle the gelatin over 1/4 cup of cold water. When the gelatin has softened for 2 to 3 minutes, set the cup in a small skillet of simmering water and stir until the gelatin dissolves completely. Remove the skillet from the heat, but leave the cup of gelatin in the skillet.

With an electric beater, beat the egg yolks with 1/2 cup of the sugar until the yolks are pale yellow and thick enough to fall back in a ribbon when the beater is lifted from the bowl. Stir in the dissolved gelatin, the lemon juice and the lemon peel. With the same beater, whip the cream in a large chilled bowl until it is firm enough to hold its shape softly. Then, with a rubber spatula, gently but thoroughly fold the cream into the egg and lemon mixture, using an over-under cutting motion rather than a stirring motion.

Wash and dry the beater; in a separate bowl, use it to beat the egg whites until they are frothy. Sprinkle in the remaining 3 tablespoons of sugar and continue beating until the egg whites are stiff enough to stand in peaks. Gently fold the egg whites into the lemon mixture and continue to fold until no trace of white can be seen in the mixture.

Spoon the lemon cream into a large serving dish. Cover it tightly and refrigerate it for at least 3 hours before serving. If you like, garnish the dessert with lemon slices and whipped cream sweetened with confectioners' sugar.

"The Cooking of Germany," Time-Life Foods of the World