I think I confessed it already, but since I am too lazy to search for the proof, I am going to confess again: quite often I don’t write about the Brettljause I have eaten on the same day. Or even on the following day. In the case of Stadlheuriger Staffa, it had taken me eight days before I could force myself to approach the keyboard.
Despite the time that has passed, I can still visualize the Stadljause very clearly. It was 20% cheese and 80% thinly cut pork in different varieties, piled up high and generously on a round wooden plank. The black pudding was easily recognizable, of course, but the other types of meat blurred into one messy heap. I am quite sure Geselchtes was there, as well as Leberkäse and, most likely, some Speck, but the appearance and the taste of them were so similar that I cannot be sure. Besides, the sheer amount of the cold cuts was so scary that I was more worried about the embarrassment of having to leave a half of it untouched than about trying to figure out what exactly I was eating.
The taste of the meats was highly uneven. None of the slices tasted industrial, but some of them were very fresh, while the occasional ones had the flavor of something that had stayed in a storage room for too long. I was not impressed by the cheese at all, and the Liptauer spread was completely on the bland side. They actually matched well the blandness of the tavern itself. While on the outside it looked like a barn, which was unusual and quite interesting, the inside was very austere, the only decoration provided by boring paintings – probably, by local artists, – available for purchase at ridiculous prices.
The only thing that truly distinguishes Stadlheuriger is the quantity/price ratio. Having paid less than ten euros for a Stadljause, you can fill your stomach and take a half of the dish home, where it will cover your breakfast needs for a week. Unless you eventually get disgusted, that is.