Dinner at Silvio Nickol Gourmet Restaurant, Vienna

I am currently in the midst of a summer course near Vienna till early August, and I thought it'd be a shame not to try the best of what Austria had to offer in culinary terms. Vienna is perhaps more well-known for its cafés serving the all-time favourites of veal schnitzel and apple strudel (which, by the way, are a must for any traveller seeking an authentic Viennese experience) than for more eclectic fine-dining restaurants; nonetheless, it must be remembered that historically, the powerful Habsburg Empire, with its imperial capital in Vienna, integrated the cultures of many lands into various aspects of daily life, so it is perhaps unsurprising that food and drink there at the most sophisticated levels today continue to keep abreast of current trends in gastronomy (which, of course, include incorporating exotic ingredients and culinary styles).

For my first fine-dining experience, I made an impromptu reservation at Silvio Nickol's flagship restaurant in the luxury suites-only Palais Coburg Residenz hotel yesterday morning, and ate there the same evening with a friend who happened to be visiting Vienna for the weekend.

This restaurant is a relative newcomer to Vienna's culinary scene, having opened only in May 2011. However, it has received some rather remarkable accolades in this short time. Chef Nickol might be young but he is certainly a force to be reckoned with - having trained with Harald Wohlfahrt, widely considered to be Germany's best living chef, he quickly earned two Michelin stars in his first post as head chef at Schloss Velden in Austria. Within a year of moving to Vienna, his new restaurant has also gained an impressive two Michelin stars.

Grand classical exterior of the hotel, built in the 1840s,
upon mid-16th century Brown Bastion foundations.

Hotel guests and diners-only entrance

The incredibly cavernous lobby!

Private lift to the restaurant

The gourmet experience begins the moment you walk through the hotel doors - we were led through the high-security guests-only entrance by hotel staff to the restaurant's private lift, which could only be activated by their access card. When the lift doors opened on the other end, a member of the restaurant team was already expecting us at the reception area, and we were promptly taken to the largest table that I have ever seen allocated to two people. This must be the strongest first impression that a restaurant has ever had on me, in terms of service and atmosphere.

On the way to our table through the huge labyrinthic restaurant, we also passed some impressive displays of wine on the walls - according to restaurant manager Sascha later in the evening, this hotel possesses the second-largest wine cellar in Europe, with more than 5500 bottles, the oldest dating back to 1727 (!!). According to some other Austrian food blogs, the wine pairings also often feature top vintages that would be available only by the bottle in most other fine restaurants (hugely expensive though, so we declined). No surprises then, that this restaurant should be conceived as an equally grand partner, fit for the fine wines on offer.

The impeccable service continued with aforementioned manager Sascha advising us patiently on food orders. Despite the obviously grand and traditional hotel atmosphere, a large part of the restaurant experience here is about fun and novelty - there is no printed menu; and diners simply choose between a smaller 5- or full 8-course tasting experience, advise the wait staff of any allergies and dislikes, and place their faith in Nickol and his kitchen team to create surprise after surprise. (You will get a printed menu in English/German for your own records at the end of the meal, if you ask for it.) 

Obviously, this being a one-off visit, we went straight for the full experience, which despite its tacky title 'Great Adventure', did serve its purpose of heightening my anticipation and expectations of the food. Fingers crossed it wasn't going to be a matter of style over substance, a common trap into which relatively young chefs and new fine-dining establishments are prone to falling.

What ensued was a flurry of canapés - according to Sascha, this is similar to a Belgian tradition of serving many little starters before a feast in order to increase the dramatic aspect of the meal. I was also reminded of Noma in Copenhagen, which I haven't visited but heard of adopting a similar style of service. In quick succession, we got:

1. Lime margarita, with sprinkling of sea salt and herb garnish on a stone slab (very refreshing with just the right amount of acidity, and the salt stimulating the savoury senses);
2. Schinkenstulle - a posh version of this traditional Viennese snack, consisting of fresh goat's cheese on dark bread, topped with slithers of excellent prosciutto ham. This canapé came unusually with avocado purée as well; the sweet-savoury flavour combination and the rich textures of the toppings worked very successfully indeed.
3. Tzatziki - a Space Age take on this traditional Greek starter of goat's milk yoghurt and sliced gherkins on skewers, with a sprinkling of chopped nuts for added crunch. A bit too sourish for my taste, but I suppose that's how it's like (I've had it before and I must say I'm not a particular fan of it.)
4. Octopus with miso cream and avocado purée - this Japanese-inspired starter was my favourite of the lot. The octopus was excellent - very fresh and tender, with a nice spring in the bite. The accompanying sweet-savoury cream was an absolute winner - rich yet wholesome. The piece of rice cracker was the only weak aspect of this dish; apart from its only contribution in terms of texture, it was utterly tasteless and appeared tacked on for the sake of presentation (or just for scooping up the cream).
5. Two cornetti containing, separately, vegetable and salmon tartare. These were well seasoned and delicious, if a little commonplace.

Lime margarita with herbs and sea salt

Array of canapés

Schinkenstulle

Tzatziki

Octopus with miso and avocado cream

Vegetable tartare

Salmon tartare

Bread came next, and oddly enough there were no options to choose from; we just got this muffin-like piece (not sure what kind of bread it was) served to us with a mound of butter. It was warm and the insides were nice and fluffy, but the outer crust was so hard I had trouble cutting and chewing through it. The butter was heavenly though, with a rich and smooth consistency, and just the right amount of salt in the mix.

Amuse-bouche: 'eel in green' - smoked eel with avocado cream, variations of cucumber (fresh, pickled, sorbet, mousse) and sprinkling of millet.

This was an impressive way to start the meal proper. Continuing with the chef's apparent interest in cucumber and avocado (both had been featured separately in a few of the canapés, in case you haven't noticed), they were now put on the same dish together with a small piece of smoked eel. The presentation was incredibly pretty to look at, and the dish as a whole was very refreshing and clean-tasting; sweet, sour and savoury flavours were combined in an extremely subtle and precise balance. Standouts for me were the eel, cucumber sorbet and mousse - the smoked eel was so beautifully done (look at its glistening surface!) and wonderfully moist; the sorbet was incredibly light and vanished from the palate like an ephemeral breath of fresh air which left me craving for more; and the mousse, while being  marginally more substantial in texture and set in a nice mound, retained a delicate and delightful frothiness within. Simply quite astounding.

First course: 'forest' - duck foie gras, porcini (cep) mushrooms, dark chocolate, fir leaves and 'bog'.

Another masterpiece from Chef Nickol, this was precisely plated to resemble a forest understorey complete with moss, wild fungi and small shrubs. This dish was also full of unexpected twists - the unmistakable aroma of mushrooms was the first to strike me, and yet when I bit into the 'mushrooms' expecting similar flavours (a mushroom confit or something) I was in for a major surprise - the 'mushrooms' were in fact carefully shaped pieces of foie gras, which were then dusted with dried mushroom powder for an authentic look (and there I was wondering if there really was any foie gras apart from the three small dollops of cream on the plate!). In fact, no actual mushrooms were present despite their fragrance permeating this dish; dried mushroom powder was also combined with spinach to produce the look of bog (moss), and reconstituted into a paste and subsequently made into thin filo pastry rolls that looked like wild fungi. (Understandably, the process of drying and grinding mushrooms into powder form concentrates their flavours and explains the intense aroma of the dish.) The heaps of 'soil' were dark chocolate shavings. 

I should state that this inspired stroke of creativity was not at the expense of the actual taste of the dish; the rich and velvety foie gras went hand-in-hand with the earthy, concentrated mushroom flavours and the full-bodied dark chocolate. This was a heady and indulgent dish that distinguished itself very effectively from the previous amuse-bouche.

Second course: pasta bake - tomato, parmesan and beans.

This dish was somewhat commonplace - basically parmesan dumplings surrounded by more parmesan cream, given a slight charring with a blowtorch - in comparison to the two ingenious courses that had preceded it; was the kitchen thinking that perhaps to avoid the risk of having too much of a good thing, one needs a break and to come back to earth once in a while? Surely, this dish still tasted perfectly acceptable, but it wasn't something that couldn't be made in an average home kitchen; I was certainly expecting more. To be fair, a slight touch of flair did come in the form of little dollops of refreshing and subtly aromatic bean leaf cream (again, no actual beans present) nestled within the sweet white onions - a good attempt at balance amidst the uniformly rich and heavy flavours of this dish.

Third course: 'river' - local crayfish, kohlrabi, roasted onions.

First, the positives: most of the components were individually excellent; the crayfish was very fresh and had a nice spring to the bite; the roasted onions (in both actual and puréed forms) contributed a wonderful aroma throughout the dish; the shiso leaf garnish had its characteristic refreshing taste. However, I felt that the dish as a whole lacked focus (I wasn't too sure that it was actually about the crayfish!), and that its different elements failed to work together as harmoniously as they should have. I found the onions particularly overpowering, drowning out the natural flavours of the crayfish. The major sore point for me, however, was the kohlrabi (the most abundant component here, sliced as well as made into sauce); as far as I know it's supposed to be sweet (which would complement the crayfish very well) but here the sauce was strangely watery, bland, and somewhat on the sourish side, as were the slices (they tasted as if they had been pickled; I'm not sure if this was intentional). My experience was definitely soured (pun intended) by these disruptive imbalances in flavour, which undermined the potential of otherwise outstanding ingredients.

Fourth course: 'small red' - red mullet, radish, bouillabaisse.

This was not much better than the previous course. I found the fish extremely undercooked and yet strangely tough (!), and the crispy rolled skin toppings had a lovely texture but were essentially tasteless. Saving graces here were the accompaniments - the bouillabaisse sauce was extremely tasty, if a little excessive in quantity (a huge pool surrounding a very small and thin fillet, perhaps to compensate for its dryness). This intense sauce was aptly paired with girolle mushrooms for an even deeper flavour and aroma.

After these two consecutively disappointing courses, I could only conclude that the kitchen isn't quite up to the mark in handling fresh seafood.

Fifth course: 'the silence of the ...' - lamb, eggplant, amaranth.

Fortunately, this course more than made up for the previous disappointments. Two parts of the lamb were used in this dish, the loin and the shank. The meat was very well cooked and the use of herb (parsley?) marinade and oil helped to mask its strong characteristic flavour which could be objectionable to some. The loin, roasted and still slightly pink (background), was tender and succulent, while the two pieces of braised diced shank had a melt-in-the-mouth texture with just the right amount of fat. As for the accompaniments, the roasting juices were very tasty, and two small pieces of crispy skin were included for additional texture. This rather heavy dish was aptly balanced by a very tart and thick cranberry reduction, and given a further healthy touch with a confit of eggplant and cranberry (foreground). 

Sixth course (cheese): brie, nuts, grapes.

Instead of getting to choose from a cheese trolley for this course, one gets a standard serving of the famous Brie de Meaux (one of just two types of French bries to be granted AOC status), plated with thin slices of fresh apple, grape (in both confit and purée forms), and pieces of nut florentine (containing hazelnuts, almonds and pumpkin seeds). This light yellow, soft, creamy and mild-tasting cheese was delightful, as were its sweet and nutty accompaniments which enhanced different aspects of its complex flavour.

Pre-dessert: 'best before' - almonds and peas.

This was a little palate cleanser, interestingly sealed with aluminium foil and a current date stamp just to prove that it is freshly made everyday (as if that still needs to be said!). Gimmicky? Perhaps, but all that matters is that the food tastes good, and on that count it didn't disappoint. In the little container, a light pea mousse was topped with shaved almonds, fresh peas, and finally, a generous second layer of sweet almond cream. Taken together, the end result was mildly sweet, nutty, refreshing, and with a nice crunch in every bite. A lovely prelude to the main desserts indeed.

Before we started dinner, I had asked to visit the kitchen and take a photograph with Chef Nickol at some point during my visit; immediately after pre-dessert Sascha offered to take us there, and we were led through a long staff corridor into a large and impressive kitchen where the team was mostly making desserts by this time. Chef Nickol was friendly even though he didn't seem to be too comfortable in English, and the rest of his team acknowledged our presence from behind the counter, looking somewhat surprised that someone had come in to take a peek at their workplace.

That's sous-chef Fabian Günzel behind the counter, by the way.

Seventh course (first dessert): 'cherry coke' - cola, cherry, cocoa.

Served in a traditional glass Coke bottle (where does the restaurant even get them nowadays?!) cut in half, this dessert was a deconstruction of the Cherry Coke flavour that used to be quite popular in Europe but is now curiously rare (I've only ever seen it once sold in a train station in Paris actually). To the restaurant's credit, whatever one thinks about having Coke in a fine-dining establishment, this dessert was quite successful - large and juicy whole cherries were marinated in Coke, and the latter's flavour had fully infused into the sweet-sour cherries with delicious results. The tiny quenelle was actually a Coke sorbet which felt very light and airy on the palate - nice; it was way too little in proportion to the cherries though! The sprinkling of dark cocoa powder was an agreeable final touch that gave the dessert further depth and body in flavour.

Eight course (second dessert): 'marble cake' - chocolate, kiwi, quark.

Another deconstruction, this one was of the common and well-loved marble cake. It was also a thorough study in circular shapes and earthy colours, impeccably and eye-catchingly plated at one corner of a relatively large plate. The 'cake' component was split into pieces of chocolate biscuit, cocoa powder, and two incredibly rich and smooth dollops of caramel cream with chocolate swirls (just like in real marble cake). Complementing and balancing this indulgent dessert were two mounds of light pistachio sponge (I found these a little dry unfortunately) coated with finely-ground pistachio nuts, fresh kiwi, and slightly sourish quark (common known in Austria as Topfen) yoghurt. On the whole, a very enjoyable dish to taste and look at.

Palate cleanser: passionfruit cream atop a basil sorbet (hidden), honeycomb.

This was an amazing formal end to the dinner; an incredibly velvety and intense passionfruit cream was paired with a light, refreshing and fragrant basil sorbet, then studded with crunchy bits of honeycomb. The range of textures was brilliant, and the balance of flavours and aromas was spot-on.

Petit fours: a range of chocolate truffles and fruit gums. I don't remember exact details, but the white chocolate truffle coated with shaved coconut and containing coconut cream (i.e. Rafaello flavour) was my favourite, and created a particularly strong impression.

Some pictures of the restaurant as we were leaving (and nearly the last customers to do so because of the long tasting menu):

The striking main dining room that looks like a scene out of Star Trek.

Summary notes: perfect and very personal service despite occasional difficulties with English from some of the staff, cosy atmosphere, sleek modern decor with amethyst hues and futuristic shapes, generously spaced tables. The restaurant felt comfortable and inviting despite its somewhat over-the-top hotel surroundings. The food was executed with individuality, creative use of ingredients, and an element of surprise that departed every now and then from traditional fine-dining practices. It didn't always work (especially with the seafood courses), but on the whole it was still a distinctive and memorable experience which I would recommend to anyone looking for something different in a deeply traditional city like Vienna.

Postscript (30/8): I read from other food blogs that one may actually request to add on more courses for 10 euros per course (which I think is a really good deal for a restaurant of this rank), up to a maximum of 12 courses - wouldn't that be a real feast! I wonder why this was not mentioned at all by both hotel and restaurant staff during my visit - never mind, there'll be a next time, I believe!