The First Day in the Schilcherland

Location:Buschenschank Reinbacher vlg. Wurst
Address:Stallhof 10, 8510 Stainz
Status:Open (last checked on 10 June 2021)
Eaten:Brettljause, beetle beans salad, ¼ Weißburgunder, ¼ Schilcher, ½ soda water

Let’s start with cats, although I have a strong feeling I have told a similar story some time ago (not that a repeat would hurt, for no one is visiting this site anyway). If there is anything I can never resist, it is to feed a mewling cat, even if that cat lives at an establishment that serves Brettljausen and is nearly as fat as me. There is, however, a slightly scary moment when an appetizing slice of Schweinbraten is lying in front of the cat, and she is sniffing it suspiciously, as if unsure what to do next. The thought that immediately crosses my mind in such a case is what do I do if the stupid feline ignores my gift? Should I pick the slice up and put it back on my plate? Should I leave it under my table, possibly causing a huge embarrassment if the host notices it? Or should I try to conceal it by throwing into the nearby bush?

The Reinbacher’s cat spent an awfully long time “analysing” the meat I gave her before devouring it whole, to my huge relief. She would have been very stupid not to, as the Brettljause of Reinbacher vlg. Wurst („vlg.“ meaning the same as „aka“ in English) was of the typical high Styrian quality.

With the Buschenschank being part of a farm, it was clear that most of the ingredients were homemade or came from friends and neighbours in the same area. Somehow, the spreads impressed me the most: the Liptauer was spicier and more refined than usual, and the Schmalz was well-balanced. The third spread, a brownish Schmalz-alike but more liquid and with a strong sour taste, was a rare encounter; somehow, I associate that spread with the Mostviertel and have not seen around for a very long time. I studied the whole menu trying to guess what it could be, but found nothing better that a “Bratlfett,” which was not helpful at all.

The Brettljause was scarce on cheese, and the few slices present were unexciting, but all the meats, of which there were at least four types, were of the best quality and freshness, as the cat (who attempted to climb on my table afterwards) can confirm. Having “Wurst” as the nickname is a symbol of recognition and not a coincidence, it seems.




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