When I think of Vienna, I often picture the city in the sepia tones of the past. But a short visit in the shimmering heat of summer revealed the colourful and vibrant culture that infuses the city in 2011.
As appreciative eaters, my husband and I were especially keen to experience Vienna’s renowned cuisine. With only four days to spend, we decided to concentrate on Viennese and Austrian cooking (yes, there is a difference, but more about that later).
Call us out of touch, but we were surprised by the gastronomic vitality we found.
Our first stop was obvious: Zum Schwarzen Kameel (The Black Camel) has been serving Viennese diners since 1618. Beethoven used to eat there.
On a recent warm Friday afternoon, the café tables on the Bognergasse were filled with relaxed Viennese, enjoying coffee and wine as they looked forward to the promise of the weekend.
We sat down to sample the jourgeback (little rolls of assorted fillings) and open-face sandwiches of salmon and spiced ham on traditional brown bread.
Afterward, Peter Friese, the gracious proprietor, ushered me into the art nouveau dining room.
In the 1950s, Friese says, patrons wanted his parents to rip out such outmoded wood and tile. Fortunately, they didn’t have enough money to renovate. “I think it’s good that my parents were not that rich,” he says, gesturing to the gleaming wood alcoves that now make up one of the most beautiful rooms in the city.
That tension between history and up-to-date culinary values is also present in the kitchen, Friese says. Some of his chefs have even refused to cook wiener schnitzel, he tells me with a touch of indignation.
Today, people want more healthy fare and the passion for the Mediterranean style of cooking is inescapable. So the menu at Zum Schwarzen Kameel gently evolves with contemporary styles of cooking. After the war years, Friese explains, Viennese cuisine reflected the straitened circumstances of its people. Meat was boiled and often breaded in order to make tough cuts of beef and lungs and hearts more palatable. Vegetables were baked under thick layers of cream.
Today, the vegetables are fresh and barely cooked. Organ meats are served in smaller portions or incorporated into other dishes. The changes occurred so subtly, long-time clients never complained. “They don’t feel the changes,” Friese says.
But he makes it clear that he doesn’t go in for the current fashion of listing the source of every ingredient. “If you do [something] for a long time, people trust you,” he explains. In the case of this family establishment, a long time is nearly 400 years.
We left Zum Schwarzen Kameel with a better understanding of the cultural traditions underlying the feasts yet to come.
Dinner that night was at the well-mannered Walter Bauer. The traditional Austrian sausage called Leberkase was succulent and the dessert of tart, fresh rhubarb and strawberries gave sheer enjoyment, but we found the atmosphere in the cavernous dining room rather staid. We felt ready to dive into someplace more chaotic.
The next morning, we woke up early to join the many Viennese who make a weekly excursion to the riotously colourful Naschmarkt.
We found delicacies of Mongolian, Ethiopian, Tibetan, Vietnamese and every other conceivable ethnicity on display. Young hipsters filled the modern restaurants in between stalls. The delicacies on display at the market included black truffles, morel mushrooms and more varieties of asparagus than I knew existed.
For dinner that night, we headed to the thriving MuseumQuartier, where we found the art-and-design mavens on the leafy terrace of Glacis Beisl. This bistro, set atop the old city walls of Vienna, specializes in updated versions of traditional schnitzels, goulashes and pancakes. The chefs use organic beef for the classic boiled dish and enliven it with chive sauce and crisp apple horseradish. Local wines are served by the glass.
On Sunday, between visits to the Museum of Fine Art and a few iconic works of architecture by Otto Wagner and Adolf Loos, we had time for only a small sampling of Vienna’s treasured coffee houses. By a small sampling, I mean about eight.
