This article is adapted from the December 21, 2024, edition of Gastro Obscura’s Favorite Things newsletter. You can sign up here.
You never really forget the first time you meet Krampus.
Mine was about a decade ago in Marienplatz, the main square in Munich’s historic center and the site of one of the city’s most popular Christmas markets. I’d moved to Germany earlier that year and had figured the worst of the culture shock was behind me. I was wrong.
All of a sudden, I felt a hard thwack on the back of my legs as I got hit with a flogger. By a highly realistic, horned goat-demon with a disturbingly long tongue. In broad daylight.
In my pursuit of Glühwein and a few last-minute gifts, I’d stumbled into a Krampuslauf, the annual running of the Krampuses on December 5. For the next 15 minutes or so, a half-dozen Krampuses ran snarling around the square, rattling their cowbells and terrorizing assorted holiday shoppers. Several children—and adults—screamed rather loudly.
I’d heard of Krampus, of course, but somehow nothing prepared me for how hard people in Bavaria commit to the bit.
American Christmas traditions are all about Bambi-esque reindeer and a jolly, round saint so non-threatening children are expected to sit on his lap. They do things different back in the Old Country.
For the uninitiated, Krampus is the stick to Santa’s carrot, a feral Alpine monster known for swatting unruly children with birch twigs or, in severe cases, kidnapping and eating them. He’s just one of a number of similar Northern European beasties, which include the Schiachperchten, Austria’s horned, furry cryptids.
Over the years, plenty of institutions have tried to stamp out this monster with pagan roots, including the Nazi party. In the 1950s, the Austrian government tried again with a pamphlet entitled “Krampus Is an Evil Man.”
“There is too much fear in the world already,” declared the leaflet, as quoted by Time magazine in 1953. Among the many non-supernatural woes: “unemployment, high taxes, not to mention the atom bomb. Let’s begin by throwing out Krampus.”
Krampus, of course, got the last laugh. Not only is this once-obscure beastie going strong in his home regions, but thanks to social media, he’s also spread around the world. You can find dozens of Krampusnächte (“Krampus nights”) throughout the month of December in the United States—not to mention everything from Krampus bobbleheads and cookie plates on Etsy.
That’s all very well and good for those with high thresholds for horror (like my colleague, Gemma Tarlach, who went the extra mile with a DIY costume a couple years ago), but as I learned from my own Krampus encounter, I’m a bit more of a wimp. I wanted to find a way to honor the season’s least-cuddly creature that wouldn’t scare the living daylights out of children (or me).
To that end, I’d like to take a cue from Slovenia, where Krampus also comes in a much cuter (and tastier) form. Parkeljni (in reference to the Slovenian name for Krampus) are sweetbreads made with an egg-rich yeasted dough fashioned into horned, half-goat demons.
Admittedly, you may need to squint a bit to see the resemblance to Krampus, but this holiday is all about a gentle suspension of disbelief anyway. A pair of raisins make for coal-black eyes. For extra credit, consider sprinkling the legs with poppy seeds (for fur) or attaching triangles cut out of red construction paper to mimic a waggling tongue.
During the days leading up to Miklavževanje, or St. Nicholas Day, these festive, horned bread-beings start popping up in bakeries. They’re also a popular home baking project, since it’s easy for kids to help with the shaping process. Imagine making gingerbread men, with a slightly more sinister edge.
In Slovenia, children leave their boots out on the evening of December 5—much the way Americans leave out stockings or Dutch children leave out wooden shoes. The following morning, they rise early to see what might have appeared in the night. Naughty kids get a stick from Parkelj (Krampus); good ones get small gifts and sweets, including these breads.
If you’re intimidated by yeast breads, don’t worry—this dough is on the forgiving side. If you have a food processor or a stand mixer, you can whip it together in minutes. And even if you don’t (or just don’t feel like having to clean an extra piece of kitchen equipment), you can pull them together with a regular mixing bowl and a little extra kneading time.
How you choose to shape your Krampuses is a personal matter—there are no right or wrong answers here. If you’re baking with kids who prefer to get creative and free-form it, by all means let them. In light of my novice dough-sculpting skills, I opted for the simplest (and a common traditional) version. If you can twist two strands of dough together, you can make these.
While I admit that it feels weird for Krampus to be this, well, adorable, I’m here for it. Baking parkeljni made my kitchen smell amazing. Ripping the horns off these little monsters is surprisingly satisfying, as is biting into their tender, slightly fluffy crumb. I fully plan to make these little guys a part of my holiday traditions, and I hope you do too.
Parkeljni (Krampus Bread)
Adapted from Slovenian Kitchen
Ingredients
- Zest of 1 lemon
- ⅔ cup whole milk
- 2 ½ teaspoons active dry yeast
- 6 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled
- 2 egg yolks
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 3 cups all-purpose flour (plus ¼–½ cup, as needed)
- ¼ cup sugar
- ½ teaspoon salt
- 1 egg, beaten, for the egg wash
- Raisins, for eyes
Instructions
- Heat the milk in a sauce pan with the lemon zest until simmering. Allow to cool until warm, but comfortable to the touch (no more than 110°F). If the liquid is too hot, it will murder the yeast. Add the active dry yeast and a pinch of sugar, then allow to sit for 10 minutes, or until the mixture bubbles. If no bubbles appear, start over—you want to make sure your yeast is alive and well.
- Add the melted butter, egg yolks, and vanilla extract to the milk mixture and combine. In another bowl, combine three cups of flour, the sugar, and the salt. Mix the dry and wet ingredients together to form a lightly tacky dough.
- Knead the dough on a lightly floured surface for approximately five minutes, or until smooth and elastic, adding up to a half a cup of additional flour as necessary. You want a dough that’s easy to work with and not too sticky.
- Lightly grease a large mixing bowl and allow the dough to rise, covered, for about an hour. It won’t double in size, but should be visibly puffy and risen.
- Divide the dough into six equal balls and roll out into even logs with tapered points at the ends. Braid two strands of dough together to form one “body.” You want to have two distinct pointed ends sticking out on each side for the horns and feet.
- Place the loaves on a baking sheet with parchment paper. Allow them to rise again for 30 to 40 minutes, or until slightly risen.
- Preheat the oven to 350°F. While the oven is preheating, brush the little monsters with the egg wash. Add two raisin eyes to each, pressing them in to ensure they stick.
- Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, keeping a close eye on them toward the end. When the loaves are golden brown, remove from the oven. Allow to cool slightly before ripping apart.
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