Gentle Rebels

AUSTRIAN COOKS
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One thing was foremost in her parents’ plans for their daughter: for her
to learn to do something practical with a secure future. Like cooking, for
example, because people, after all, will always have to eat. So she trained
at the Kirchenwirt Inn in Austria’s Mühl district, where she comes from.
Then she moved to a simple Salzburg restaurant because she felt change
was important, and from there to Fuschl Castle because simplicity didn’t
offer enough of a challenge. “I was determined to learn more about haute
cuisine and realised for the first time how little I really knew.” Truffles?
She’d never seen one. Making noodles from scratch? A hopeless
proposition. But the celebrated Rudolf Grabner, who was chef in Fuschl at
the time, recognised the potential of his young helper, and within a very
short time she had worked her way up through the ranks to become his
sous-chef. “He gave me opportunities to realise my ideas, and at the end
of the day, that strengthened my self-assurance.”
With that new confidence she soon learned to assert herself in a culinary
world dominated by men. “As a woman you have to prove yourself at least
twice as often as a man.” Soon she had become a “sovereign of the stove”
in her own right. Firmly, but with less severity than one might think, she
says: “A 21-year-old woman who knows exactly what I want helps me in
the kitchen. We do it all together, because I like to keep a firm grip on
things.” And that’s the kind of trait that has taught Martina Eitzinger’s
parents that there’s more to being a chef than just calling yourself one.
She’s proud of that, even though there’s a lot they still don’t understand.
MARTINA EITZINGER
THE FIGHTER / DIE KÄMPFERIN
TANGLBERG, 4655 Vorchdorf, Pettenbacherstraße 3–5, Tel.: 07614/83 97, www.tanglberg.at
Ihre Eltern wollten vor allem eines: Dass die Tochter später etwas Sicheres
macht. Etwas Sicheres wie Kochen, denn Essen werden die Menschen immer
müssen. Also lernte sie beim „Kirchenwirt“ in dem Mühlviertler Ort, aus
dem sie stammt. Wechselte dann nach Salzburg in ein schlichtes Lokal,
weil das Wechseln irgendwie zum Lernen gehört und zog dann bald, weil
ihr die Schlichtheit zu wenig Reibungsfläche bot, weiter ins Schloss Fuschl
am Fuschlsee. „Da war ich bereits von dem Wunsch beseelt, in die höhere
Gastronomie vorzudringen und habe zum ersten Mal gemerkt, wie wenig
ich eigentlich wusste.“ Trüffel? Noch nie gesehen. Drainiertes Gemüse?
Trainiertes …? Frische Nudeln aus der Nudelmaschine? Hmmm – Ratlosigkeit.
Doch der ehemalige Küchenchef Rudolf Grabner erkannte das Potenzial
seiner jungen Küchengehilfin – innerhalb kürzester Zeit wurde sie Entremetier,
dann Demi-Chef, dann Sous-Chef. „Er hat mir Möglichkeiten geboten,
meine Ideen zu verwirklichen, letztendlich hat das mein Selbstbewusstsein
gestärkt.“ Derart gestählt lernte sie, sich in der von Männern dominierten
Welt der Pfannenschwinger zu behaupten – „als Frau musst du mindestens
zwei Mal so oft dein Können unter Beweis stellen wie ein Mann“ und mutierte
schließlich selbst zum „Herr am Herd“. Sehr bestimmt, aber weniger
hantig, als es klingen mag, erzählt sie: „In der Küche hilft mir ein 21-jähriges
Dirndl, die weiß genau, was ich will. Wir machen alles gemeinsam, denn ich
hab’ überall meine Hand gerne drauf.“ Genau an diesen Kleinigkeiten haben
Martina Eitzingers Eltern gelernt, dass Köchin nicht gleich Köchin ist.
Das macht sie stolz. Auch wenn ihnen vieles wie ein Rätsel vorkommt.
Photo: Luzia Ellert
Martina Eitzinger is a perfectionist
who realises that it’s important
not to focus so much on perfection
that you end up being
alone, despite running a popular
restaurant. / Martina Eitzinger
ist Perfektionistin und weiß,
dass man als solche aufpassen
muss, nicht eines Tages trotz
vollen Lokales allein dazustehen.
ONCE UPON A TIME, little boys dreamed of growing up to become firefighters,
airforce pilots or at least car mechanics. But now that Jamie Oliver and
his Berlin counterpart, Ralf Zacherl, have become TV stars, other professions
seem to have lost their charm. The new dream job is chef.
The new sex appeal of the profession lies in its fresh image: the sweat has
disappeared from brows, heightened complexions have given way to healthier
coloration, and joie de vivre is the order of the day. Everything that the first
celebrity chef in history, Paul Bocuse, “made possible and later regretted has
been perfected and democratised by his pupils over the past 30 years,” noted
the daily Frankfurter Allgemeine in a recent article.
Today’s chefs differ from their predecessors in one important point: instead
of being restricted to the role of culinary expert, they have become philosophers
of the good things in life. They have just as much fun promoting wellbeing
as they do plucking a free-range chicken, and the beneficiary is the
grateful diner. “The interest in culinary enjoyment is no longer a question of
money. To an entire generation – the 30- to 40-year-olds – it is now accepted
as a matter of course,” says Christian Grünwald, editor-in-chief and co-publisher
of the gourmet guide Austria A la Carte. He adds, “There’s no looking back.
People have become more conscious of what they eat and drink: for health
reasons, for the sheer pleasure of it, and because it is socially acceptable. Good
food and drink have gone from being a fashion trend to a creature comfort
that many people would not want to live without.”
A survey by the Fessel-GfK research institute confirms this development:
43 per cent of those surveyed said they cook almost daily, and 23 per cent put
their culinary skills to the test several times a week. In 1994 the comparable figures
were 41 and 13 per cent respectively. The percentage of males who cook has also
risen sharply: from 46 to 61 per cent in only four years. Demographer Helene
Karmasin sees a relationship between the new pleasure derived from cooking
and a growing need for self-expression: “Cooking is increasingly seen as an art
form in which the individual can distinguish himself from the broader masses.”
And the same motivation that gets amateurs started often
provides professionals with their only chance of standing out from
the competition. “During my training, I was already making a name
for myself with unconventional ideas,” remembers Aurelio Nitsche,
who denies that a desire to be provocative had anything to do
with it. He simply wanted the curriculum to include the things that
were important to him personally, for example, the inventive use
of fruit. It was his good fortune that he had teachers who appreciated
his efforts to integrate it into every possible recipe. Today
the menu of the 28-year-old chef at Vienna’s Bordeaux restaurant
is the logical continuation of his student days: among the hors
d’oeuvres are “sautéed goose-liver on spiced apricots and balsamico
shallots” and “carrot mango soup with shrimp” while the
main courses include “guinea-fowl à l’orange.” Imagination has
never been an impediment to success in this profession, and
Nitsche’s attitude is another plus: “I’m happy if my guests are.”
It hasn’t always been that way: insiders still roll their eyes
over the legendary capriciousness of Marco Pierre White. The
former enfant terrible of the British restaurant scene is said to
have cared most about personal happiness, self-realisation and
appearances. If he didn’t like the looks of his diners, he might
throw them out of his restaurant in the middle of their meal. In
the early 1990s, when affectation was not only tolerated but even
welcomed, such whims were accepted. But today, that kind of
behaviour is tantamount to professional suicide.
A restaurant meal these days is supposed to be good not only
for the stomach but also for the soul: in addition to a first-class
meal, diners expect a certain degree of intimacy with the owners
and personnel. “To be successful, a restaurant has to offer more
than just perfect food in a chic ambience. If the human element
isn’t right, no one will keep coming back”, says A la Carte editor
Grünwald, describing the unforgiving nature of diners hungry
fora bit of TLC.
Gerhard Fuchs, whose culinary skills attract both foreign and
Austrian gourmets to Straden in the southern Austrian province
of Styria, has found a solution that personally suits him better. The
32-year-old talent, who began collecting awards the moment he
had a kitchen to call his own, is employed by the Neumeister family,
who have won their share of awards for the wines they make. He
prefers to devote his passion to his pots, sharing the pleasure with
his friends in the kitchen, two sous-chefs and three assistants,
who in turn share his enthusiasm for the work. But contact
with the guests is entrusted to other hands – Matthias Neumeister
and his mother, Anna – who provide a wonderful dining atmosphere.
“I don’t really think it’s important for the chef to wander
around the dining room,” says Fuchs, almost defiantly. But he has
a point to make that confirms his congeniality and modesty: “You
shouldn’t let yourself be swept away by the whole thing.”
Providing personal attention has always been a profitable
concept. To the customer, regardless of social standing, being on
close terms with the owner has always been a sign of success. In
Austria the concept has a name: Pogusch, which is actually a hill
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