There is authenticity and then there is authenticity. The first is an authenticity of a TV-documentary type, a culinary illustration of the picturesque life in Tirol. The second is the uncompromising authenticity of a farmer’s menu, with no painted cows or jolly pigs. Sommereggerhof’s Bauernjause is very authentic in the second sense.
As expected from the name, everything on this Bauernjause is thickly cut (there is also a thinly sliced Brettljause on the menu, which, in retrospective, I should have probably taken instead). There is Speck, Schweinsbraten, Blutwurst (blessingly not much), a Wiener-type sausage, two types of Geselchtes, Grammelschmalz and – surprisingly – cold spare ribs. The latter were cut very strangely – as slices of two conjoined racks, making it quite cumbersome to slice the meat off them, especially with the other ingredients still uneaten.
In theory, all this would have pointed towards an exceptional, though cheese-less, combination, but unfortunately, Sommereggerhof has failed on the most important parameter: the taste. The trouble was, everything tasted too close to the underlying animal, and not a happy or recently deceased animal either. The Geselchtes especially, had a taste of something very old, unnatural and far too fat. While I don’t mind (and occasionally even enjoy) fatty bits on my meats, in this case I found myself cutting off the white stuff; it was just too disgusting. Moreover, as evident from the picture, something went seriously wrong with the presentation; the ingredients looked sloppily arranged, with the horseradish, paprika and onions simply being mixed together and piled up with no regard to refinement.
The Heuriger itself, though pretty inside, is quite hardcore. It is actually part of a large farm, with a strong smell of cow manure outside (but fortunately not inside). The clientele is locals-only, sometimes arriving in trucks with the logos of small local businesses painted on them. An elderly couple arrived at one point and almost joined me at my table, even though 90% of the other tables were empty; had I not been reading my Kindle, they would have definitely tried to engage me in some conversation in their incomprehensible dialect. After some time fighting with the ribs (and feeding the bones to the owners’ cat), the wife left for the toilet, took a wrong turn and having realized that, released a couple of impressively loud farts. She then asked for directions and disappeared, never to be seen again. Her husband eventually went after her, but came back alone, carrying a pile of the Heuriger’s leaflets, which he started to study meticulously. It was just all too weird.
As a final advice, if you ever end up in Sommereggerhof, which is very unlikely unless you have a car – walking from nearby Amstetten or Blindenmarkt is as long as uninteresting – stick to the cheap Most and not the “award-winning” premium sorts. With insuffient sugar added, the latter taste quite bitter and even metallic. And go for the Brettljause, it may be a better choice.
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