Am Pfarrhof, St. Andrä im Sausal
Focus on the essentials.
A portrait of a chef who elevates omission to an art form – and finds perfection precisely in it.
Some places seem made for what happens within them. The Pfarrhof in St. Andrä im Sausal is such a place. Historic, quiet, secluded – but never undiscoverable. A place that doesn’t try to ingratiate itself. Instead, it says in its own way: Whoever comes here is ready to truly taste.
Harald Irka cooks without compromise.
Salmon I Tomato Beurre Blanc I Shiso
by Harald Irka & Jan Gollinger
The stage is white. The product performs.
Anyone who experiences Irka’s cuisine quickly understands: This is not about fusion, form, or frills. But about depth. About precision. And about that quiet arrogance that says: I know what I’m doing – I don’t have to prove it to you.
Herbeus Greens are not an effect in this dramaturgy. They are structure. Aroma. Attitude.
“I only take what makes sense. The greens give me texture and freshness without disturbing the rest. And the fact that they come from Austria fits our philosophy: short distances, no compromises, full control.”
The plants from the vertical farming facility provide not only taste but also reliability – an often underestimated luxury in a kitchen that pays attention to every detail.
The menu as a dialogue with nature.
What ends up on the plate is guided by the annual cycle, not by trends. Game, when it’s time. Fermented items, when winter approaches. Nothing is accidental, but everything is allowed to develop. Irka’s cuisine seems strict and free at the same time – like a poem with an open ending.
His partner Lisa Gasser, a trained sommelier herself, guides through the evening with an ease that elevates the experience without emphasizing it. At Pfarrhof, you are not just served; you are accompanied.
Why this cuisine stands on the "“stage of perfection”".
Because it embodies exactly what Herbeus stands for: clear decisions. For quality. For sustainability. For omitting everything that would merely be decorative. Because here, it’s not about posting, but cooking. Not about advertising, but convincing.
And because perfection – at least here – is not a loud moment, but a quiet promise.
