Nachtmarkt in Vienna

The Nachtmarkt never seems to close down. I went there on my first morning in Vienna for breakfast – an excellent nectarine and a cold but delicious apfelstrudel. When I walked back to my hostel that night it was still going. The next day the lunch place I was looking for turned out not to exist and a woman in a nearby café directed me back to the Nachtmarkt for lunch.


There are numerous restaurants in the Nachtmarkt, with falafel stands, asian noodle bars and doner kebabs crammed right in next to the expensive wine shops, smelly cheese displays and fresh vegetables. I eventually decided on a restaurant called Indian Pavilion, because most of the other places violated one of my sacred rules : never eat anywhere with photographs of food on the menu displayed outside. I don’t do this because I’m a snob but because it’s generally a good indicator of poor quality. (L’As du felafel in Paris is the exception.) I had a vegetable masala with rice and cucumber raita – nothing transportative, but very good.

There are loads of little bakeries in the Nachtmarkt and after lunch I wandered through and picked up a spelt wheat ball – I’m not sure what was holding it together but it had a texture like marzipan and seemed like the healthy, cinnamony cousin of the chocolate rum ball. It was outstanding.

The Sacher Hotel in Vienna

My friend Liz counseled me on where to go in Vienna, and the Sacher Hotel was the recommendation that stuck with me. Probably because, as she explained, they invented the Sacher torte and they're still serving it today.

I had never had Sacher torte before I went to Vienna, and generally I like my cakes more aggresively dense and moist and overpowering. But I really enjoyed it. This is a really refined take on chocolate cake, without being stuffy or fussy. It's a very soft cake, moderately dense and moist, with apricot jam and a thin layer of chocolate icing. Because it is not overly moist it is perfect with a dollop of whipped cream. It really is a very pleasing experience.

Even though the place is crowded and there is a line to get in, they don't rush you here. I sat at the bar next to the other people travelling alone, and met a lady from Tennessee who was in Vienna for only a few hours on her way out to a seminary in the mountains of Austria. She chose to spend some of her precious time in the Sacher Hotel. And it makes sense. The cake was just that good.

Babette's in Vienna

If you have been to Vienna and you didn’t go to Babette’s, it might be an idea to clear a space on your desk now. You’ll need somewhere to bang your own head when you finish reading this.

Two women run this cookbook shop, epicerie and restaurant and I don’t know which one is Babette. Maybe there is no Babette. All I know is that a girl who looked about 21 cooked me the most amazing meal in the open kitchen in the middle of the shop. The menu changes every day and has about six choices, and on the day I was there I chose spinach and ricotta poached gnocci with bleu d’auvergne, rocket, and stewed pear in seven spices. The gnocci wasn’t really gnocci – it was the only way the girl could think to explain it to me – it was a light, jiggly, eggy little dumpling shaped like a quenelle. All that for about 12 euros. I don’t think I’ve ever been more overjoyed to pay 12 euros for a meal in my life.

The spiced pears were so good that I ended up buying a tin of the spices she used, the Seven Secrets Mix. It turned out to be cardamom, coriander, anise, vanilla, szechuan pepper, tumeric and pepper. Since I got back to Paris I have already used it in chocolate fudge and sauteed pear and it worked really well - my next project is to add it to apple crumble.

In conclusion, Babette's should be a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Demel’s in Vienna

Demel’s is an institution, sure, but damn those window displays are ugly. Who honestly wants to see papier mache mermaid breasts? I really, really don’t. I rushed inside to get a better look at their cake counter (and take a blurry photo).


Demel’s has a weird system that I only learned about from the older American guys behind me in the line for a table upstairs. At the cake cabinet you point to what you want and a woman writes it on a little ticket, which you then present to the server once you’re seated and have ordered a drink. I chose Anatorte because it looked the most likely to give me a heart attack, and I’m all about the heart attacks (I was on holiday, which was my excuse).

Anatorte is a dense chocolate cake with layers of chocolate and liquer crème, with a thick gianduja outer layer – I decided it can’t be called icing because it’s solid. At Demel’s the gianduja is thick and the cake has elaborate designs on top, which translates to more gianduja, and that was my primary concern.

I ordered a hot chocolate, and together this made for the closest I have been to actual chocolate overload in a long time. It was great. Because Demel’s was so busy I ended up sharing a table with the two American gentlemen (this often happens when you travel as a single and want to eat in fancy, popular places). Not only were they very interesting people who agreed that Vienna is a place where you feel instantly at home and comfortable, but they ended up paying for my Anatorte. I tried to refuse, but John waved me off with a friendly “I have a son in college, someone will treat him someday.”

I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that, but I was at that point in the chocolate consumption cycle where the world is a warm and happy place, so I agreed with him immediately. Then I drowned face-down in what remained of the spectacular hot chocolate.