I’ve been thinking a lot about my father who died in 2014.
What he passed onto me are: an appreciation for authentic dining with a minimum of pretence, interests in geography and history, and an enthusiasm for highway drives and road trips. He also loved woodwork, gardening, and tinkering with the family car. By contrast, I like to dabble with memories and the act of memory.
I’ve also been thinking about how he would’ve viewed my experiences in Vienna.
In Vienna’s 4th district, cook and author Stefanie Herkner owns and operates her restaurant, Zur Herknerin, as a living memory of her father, Heinz, and her family’s Slovenian culinary heritage. Much of her story has appeared in a variety of publications: how her dad’s famous restaurant, Zum Herkner, helped spark and redefine contemporary Vienna cuisine; how she went to London to study art-and-culture management; how her parents tried to dissuade her from the restaurant industry; and how she returned home to Vienna and opened her own restaurant in mid-2013.
That’s the kind of story to pique my curiosity.
With a reservation for the opening slot at weeknight service, I arrive 15-minutes early to moderate street-traffic and a set of open doors. The space is light, airy, uncomplicated, and welcoming. A couple of servers and kitchen staff are out and about, preparing for the dinner rush. Captaining the ship is Frau Herkner, her voice a firm, steady, and encouraging guide. I chat briefly with her: I’ve flown over 8000 kilometres across the world to have a meal here, and that my love of diners and small restaurants comes from Dad, who worked many years in many diners as cook and line-cook.
What’s familiar on the dinner table to many in this part of the world is relatively new to me. My order is a delicious introduction to the family’s central European background.
Krautroulade mit Petersilerdäpfel und Rahm (Serbian-style stuffed cabbage roll): ground beef and pork fried with bacon, tomatoes, bell peppers and carrots, diced onions; that extra fat is always the flavour enhancer. The meat-and-rice mixture is stuffed into large cabbage leaves, rolled and gently simmered with garlic and bay leaves. Add perfectly cooked cut-up potatoes served with parsley, and served with a dollop of sour cream.
Almdudler-Radler: cold draft beer mixed with Almdudler, Austria’s national and herbal lemonade. The combination is refreshing on a warm early-summer day, and I think its slight sweet-and-bitter “bite” goes well with the savory Sarma.
Apfel-Strudel: phyllo pastry filled with chunks of regionally-grown apples, with cinnamon and nutmeg; light but substantive; more apple than pastry. The last polish is a Melange for a smooth finish.
To achieve her goal of delivering family favourites to customers, she emphasizes:
“Unsere Zutaten sind biologisch, saisonal, regional oder vom eigenen Hof.”
(Our ingredients come from products that are natural, seasonal, regional, or from our very own farm.)
Before leaving, I catch Frau Herkner’s attention one last time. I tell her how much I enjoy the food, and how my experience feels like an accepted invitation into her family home with, if our faith allows, the spirits of our respective fathers, present in the kitchen and at the table.
Food and ambience.
Nourishing and warmth.
A lot of heart and muscle memory.
A lot of family memory and history.
I think Dad would’ve liked this.
Because I really did; I wanted to believe.
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