And Wirtshaus Kultur.

Two Saturdays ago with the forecast in our favor we set out with the best of intentions, to revisit a nearby Burgruine both for the pleasure of being outdoors as well as an opportunity to spy a Seeadler or two, who have recently been spotted in this particular area preparing to lay baby-birds-of-prey eggs.

This snap of a Seeadler is courtesy of the Donau-Auen National Park website, in the event you wondered what I was all excited about.

But spying a majestic bird of prey did not come to pass, and not because the Foxhound was with us. The trails leading up to the castle ruin were impassable, with frozen sections and thick muddy areas forcing all of us to turn back early, and for me to rue bringing along CTF and his mucked up paws into the MomMobile.

The following day greeted us with the expected Central-Europe-in-Winter grey, so I did a deep dive into the museum offerings in Vienna and came up with Into the Great Outdoors, an exhibition of 19th century landscape artists at the Leopold Museum, a museum whose exhibits are generally well-curated.

To our great surprise we both loved the exhibit. Worry not, however; I have no plan to make this a lesson on landscape paintings. Just enjoy.

Evidently Wassily Kandinsky had a landscape moment. Good thing it was just a moment, before he moved on to founding abstract art.

The works of one artist, the Austrian Friedrich Gauermann caught our attention; in particular, the details in his works.

Later, over lunch, I recalled there being a Gauermann Museum out in the Wiener Alpen, and this past weekend we took an exceptionally miserable winter day to leave Vienna for the sunnier side of the alps to investigate.

On the other side of the WienerWald…

The Gauermann Museum was small and charming, and in less than an hour we had studied every one of his paintings in detail. Exquisite.  

This is a detailed look at a section from the above painting that I did not capture.

This being Niederösterreich meant Wirtshaus Kultur for lunch. We found one such designated place and walked in, only to see the Stammgäste occupying all of the tables. Sadness. But then a waitstaff motioned and led us down the hall into the additional dining room. The lights were turned on; the table set and the candle lit; and we were offered menus.

With the Heavenly Father for company we began our most noteworthy lunch with Kürbiscremesuppe. We followed with the Hauspfandl, itself memorable, but the soup was the star.

Velvety pumpkin soup into which silky pumpkin seed oil has been swirled, and topped with roasted pumpkin seeds. Simple and elegant, just as Wirtshaus Kultur should be.

One by one it seemed that every waitstaff, including the person we assumed was the proprietor, checked in with us to inquire, “Gut geschmekt?”  Indeed. Everything about the day, and certainly our lunch, was in good taste.