Schweinsbraten Masters

This was not supposed to be my destination today. Actually, the awful weather lasting for my entire stay in Hinterstoder pushed me to seriously consider going back one day earlier – but, of course, not without trying an interesting-looking Jause place just in the middle of the village. Waiting for it to open, I took a cable car up the closest mountain, where the rain stopped for about an hour, which was enough for me to walk so far that turning back made no sense anymore.

Now I consider it a good omen. BergpfeffeR (the last capital R must be some kind of a cool marketing thing) is a Falstaff-distinguished restaurant, and this shows in its Brettljause. It’s exquisite, with the meats and cheeses arranged with a lot of attention (well, with more attention than the Brettljausen at 99% of other places). The bread came in two sorts and was reassuringly fresh, and – uniquely – the waiter gave me an empty plate to move the stuff from the Brettl onto.

In line with my habits, I started with the least edible ingredient, which was the jelly. I wish I could say it positively changed my mind about jellies once and forever, but it did not. It was actually quite unpleasant, tasting like a sour frozen soup. Fortunately, then things went uphill with the speed of a good cable car. The mountain cheese had a pleasantly bitter taste, the herb spread was refreshingly creamy and herby, and one of the two types of Speck, very dry and cut so thinly one could look through it, was one of the best I’ve tried for a long time. The kings of the Brettl, however, were four thickly cut slices of Schweinsbraten. Consisting to at least 50% of fat, they should have been quite disgusting; instead they turned out to be the Schweinsbraten of the year. The crunchy crust alone is worth a special award.

The rest of the Jausenplatte would not qualify for an award, but was perfectly good to maintain the good impression: the second, saltier type of Speck, some ham, and the pretty standard Austrian salami with cheese bits inside. I suppose the horseradish could have been stronger – they shredded it into such tiny pieces that all the taste was gone – and a bit of Schmalz or some hard salami or Haswurst would have been welcome, but even the way it is, BergpfeffeR’s creation is highly commendable.

Finally, the view out of the restaurant’s window (or from the terrace, if you are luckier with the weather than me) make a visit to BergpfeffeR a must even if they had served rats grilled medium-rare and boiled dogshit. A worthy conclusion to my long weekend in Hinterstoder.