Watching a Chef Close Up in Kitzbuhel

Tonight I followed the advice of a local, and dined in supreme style at Lois*Stern, a 12-year-old restaurant just outside of the center of Kitzbuhel. It was recommended by Kurt Exenberger when I asked him for his favorite place in town.  It's a cozy little place, serving Asian inspired fish and curries and has a top notch wine list. I sat at the bar, just three feet away from Lois himself, a serious chef who is meticulous as he prepares each dinner with care.   He murmurs to the waitress if he needs something but is reserved in manner and quite serious as he cooks.

His wife Maria is the opposite, the cheerful ying to Lois' yang. She greets the customers with laughter and hugs, and brings warmth to the room.  I watched Lois in action wielding a pair of foot-long tweezers, taking the bits of scallop, and threads of noodles, cutting them with scissors, and searing the tuna, carefully turning it over so that each of the four sides gets browned. As he divied up the wok-fried vegetables onto two clean plates he used every morsel. (I remember watching a chef at Nantucket's Black Eyed Susan's throw way about a quarter of each skillet once as he plated the dishes, this drove me crazy).

The men here all wore the same uniform: a dark jacket, shiny dress shoes, and blue jeans. The women all wore slacks and jewelry.  Since the menu was in German, Maria read it for me, and I simply asked her to bring me the specials--curry seafood, a red snapper with baby bok choi and jasmin rice, and for dessert a selection of berry sorbets.  

On the cash register were two children's photos, and I asked Maria where these little ones were tonight. She pointed to a baby monitor and laughed, 'they're upstairs asleep," she said.