The first thing one notices about the Moarhofalm is that they use hiking boots in place of flower pots. There is at least a dozen pairs hanging on their fence, all in such a fine condition that I wonder why no one has stolen them yet. When on the inside of the fence, you realize that the boots were just the beginning. The whole hut has been envisioned as a sort of an over-the-top farm experience, with dimmed lights, plain wooden tables, skulls of far too many goats on the walls, little bridges over little springs, cute tiny rabbits, Lederhosen everywhere and every other detail, including hard-to-open metal door locks, screaming „Kitsch“ at you. It is very well done (the way they managed to fit the buildings between the huge stones is particularly impressive), but the whole thing looks more like a circus than a real farm. Even the owner resembles a clown (sorry if you are the owner reading this and feel insulted, but you should really do something about your haircut).
Despite all the fuss, the Moarhofalm serves a really uninteresting Brettljause. It’s quite varied but totally industrial, the fact that has really no excuse for a place that calls itself an Alm and is easily accessible with a car. It does, however, feature the thickest Brettl I have ever seen.
If not hungry, the Moarhofalm is certainly worth visiting. It is something like a Styrian equivalent of the Marchfelderhof – very well built, very nicely maintained, but fake to the extreme. As for the Brettljause, there are better places nearby.