An Impossible Jause

The main problem with hungry homeless persons is that they are not there when one needs them. Every evening I walk in Vienna’s first district, I meet at least five, and I perfectly remember seeing a few in Innsbruck. Not today, however – neither in the center, nor close to the central railway station. Is the city not crowded enough to make their begging viable? Or is it too warm? Have they all gone home? Shit, an hour longer, and I risk missing the last train to the village where I am staying these days.

OK, let’s rewind a bit to make things clearer. I like Innsbruck and visited it numerous times, yet somehow was never lucky to dine at Burenwirt, which I knew had a Brettljause. Sometimes it was closed; sometimes it was full; the other times, other restaurants caught my eye. Today, however, looked like a perfect opportunity: I spent the first half of the day hiking in the scarce snow at the end of one side valley of Wipptal, with all local huts closed for winter. My plan was to take a bus and a train to Innsbruck, reaching it around 16:00, when Burenwirt opens, and finally try that elusive dish.

The problem was, I missed the bus. By two bloody minutes – I saw it leaving as I walked the path towards the bus stop. The schedule told me that the next bus would arrive in two hours only, leaving me with no other choice but to continue hiking, eventually reaching the center of a village called Obernberg less than an hour later. With quite some time to burn (for walking further on was not an option for the lack of hiking paths), I went to the largest (and possibly the only) hotel of the village and asked for a beer. As a friendly waiter handed me the menu, I felt obliged to order something light, and went for Penne Carbonara.

Now, you would probably say that Carbonara is an extremely bad choice of a light dish, particularly in Austria, where it is prepared with a ton of cream. However, its low price in comparison to the other dishes confused me, and besides, I thought that with the Italian border so near, the pasta would be cooked the proper Italian way, that is with no cream. I was not only wrong about that; I had completely misjudged the size of the dish. It was the biggest Penne Carbonara ever, but a really tasty one, too, so one hour later I left the hotel happy and very full. Still, I did not forget about Burenwirt, simply deciding that reaching it by foot from the central railway station of Innsbruck would be sufficient to burn the extra calories (it is not a short walk).

It did, kind of, because entering Burenwirt and finding a single non-reserved table (woohoo!), I was ready for a snack. But nothing had prepared me for the sight of the Brettljause. Burenwirt’s menu also offers a Brettljause for four people and I thought I got that one by mistake. Its size was intimidating. Speck, Geselchtes, Schweinsbraten and Hauswurst were all featured as at least ten slices each. In addition, two enormous lumps of Liptauer and Verhackertes were placed over them, separated from the cold cuts by leaves of salad. On top of everything, there were cubes of cheese – at least 200 grams of the bloody thing.

It became very clear to me that an attempt to finish this Brettljause would end with me in Innsbruck’s city hospital. Moreover, even looking at it was about to make me sick all over Burenwirt’s floor. And that would have been really unfortunate in addition to embarrassing, for Burenwirt has a great Beisl atmosphere, very different from the touristy establishments of the city center. It is frequented by locals and “advanced” tourists alike, has fair prices and is highly popular.

I ate a few slices out of politeness and even ordered more wine, hoping that alcohol would wake up my appetite, but the battle was clearly lost without having started. The sad thing, it was a good Brettljause, very repetitive but good. I truly liked the taste of the Schweinsbraten slice I ate, and the Geselchtes was fresh and tasty. I could not make myself approach the Speck, for the sight of fat on it was highly discouraging, but I tried a bit of everything else and liked them. Despite its heaviness, the Brettljause had plenty of green stuff on it, and the two spreads were nicely spiced with some herbs.

I had to call the waiter, however, and having apologized, asked for a box. He brought a big box, believe me, and the remaining part of the dish filled it to the very top, hardly leaving any space for bread slices (the basket that came with the Brettljause contained a dozen of them, at least). Once I put the box into a plastic bag and hid it in my backpack, I felt relieved. Except that now I had to think of a way to get rid of it. Hence hungry homeless people.

To make a long story short, at the end of my running around, I found a potential customer inside the railway station. He was just about to bite into a croissant, but did not mind when I offered him the plastic bag with the box. Or, perhaps, he did not understand what I had told him, but by that time I was far away, running to catch my train. I hope that he was not vegan.

When I ordered the Brettjause, the waiter – perhaps as an inside joke – asked me whether it would be the only thing I would eat. The reality is, the portion is big enough for three people, and if you go to Burenwirt with a couple of friends (which you should) and order a Brettljause (which is a decision I leave to you), don’t order anything else until later, when you can choose for yourself if you are still hungry or not.