A such as species protection. The tavern is dead, long live the tavern. Despite the death of the tavern, this institution is still far from being on the Red List. New people are coming along, albeit perhaps in a different guise. Go to J.

B How to preserve. Preserving vs. rethinking is what it means for neohosts who take over a traditional establishment. It doesn't work without a bit of story, it's automatically included. Go to T.

C like code words. Anyone who knows code words like Weiße Nierndln has bought one of the tickets to the interior of the microcosm tavern. Go to H.

D Like mixing. What is not as successful as intended in the school system is standard in the tavern: All shifts stop here. However, the ethnic diversity of the guests is still expandable here as well. Go to X

E Like burning. What the soffritto is in Italy, the burnt in Austria. She got wrongly — bad gluten! Bad fat! — discredited. Your honor is long overdue. Go to K.

F How wrong. Fake hare, official trout — the tavern kitchen likes to solve puzzles. Go to C.

G like goulash. “In Vienna, in fact, you only get goulash in all restaurants, but it always tastes different. In Berlin, you can get everything there is: oyster pâté, warm lobster, pineapple cream, fried truffles — but it all tastes like jelly cutlet.” Egon Friedell. On to Q.

H like testicles. In the tavern, the testicles of the bull are just as “exebåchn” as bats, at least those from pigs. Go to P.

I Like identity. Europe knows partner cities, but does it also know partner locations? With the Austrian tavern per Du, for example, the Trattoria is in Italy and the Fonda in Spain. Go to D.

J Like a youngster. A new tavern completely without patina, can that feel real? Maybe so when irony paired with cooking skills and ingredient quality are involved. Go to R.

K like dumplings. In Austria's taverns, the sauce is often the main protagonist, at least when it contains mushrooms. The dumpling is content with the supporting role — but only in the spicy genre! When it comes to desserts alone, he makes his big name. Go to M.

L It's like a corpse feast. Does macabre sound? But the hosts are happy. Unless, after the funeral, only a toast roll (also conduction roll) traditionally sprinkled with anise is served. Go to U.

M such as pastries. Entire encyclopedias could be filled with the variety of regionally different Austrian pastries — drunk capuchins! Sweet Grammel swirl! Curd strutz with butter crumbs! Many are threatened with extinction. Go to B.

N Like refill. A tricky terrain — some hosts see it exclusively as a compliment for the kitchen, others as an attempt to obtain additional services free of charge. Go to S.

O Like grandma. How long will the “taste like grandma's” still last in the context of Austrian tavern cuisine? Aren't fish fingers and ready-made sugo the grandma's memory anchor for many now? Go to V.

P Like Banier. Without a message, Ned mir mir. On to I.

Q like Qualtinger. Vienna's basic rule: taverns, which cabaret artist Helmut Qualtinger liked to visit, advertise with them for eternity. Go to L.

R Like Formica. Does a hipster open a tavern. What is guaranteed not to be missing? Formica tables. And it's good! Go to O.

S Like savings club. The current turning off of savings associations by banks is also having consequences for savings association regulars' tables and taverns: How many guests are lost as a result? How many guests are missing something as a result? Go to Z.‍

St Like a regular guest. The trunk in Stammgast is rather a delicate branch: It can only break too easily. For example, when the guest is not assigned the usual table or only one floats in the soup instead of two semolina dumplings. Go to N.

T like tablecloth. “It is forbidden to cut up food you have brought along on the tablecloth.” Old wall sign. On to Y.

U Like a veteran rock. Some guests seem to be part of the inventory. After the time of arrival, hosts can sometimes set the clock. On to St.

V like vanilla. Without Google, who still knows what a vanilla roast is? K for garlic is the answer. Go to F.

W Like Wia z'haus. Linguistically semi-original: the reference to the proximity to one's own four walls. As far as the kitchen is concerned, this is certainly gross nonsense: Who cooks Beuschel at home? Go to E.

X Like xenophobia: Without exchange across borders, there would be no Viennese cuisine. It has roots in many countries; Bohemia, Moravia, Hungary are just a few of them. Go to G.

Y Like Yelp. On the rating platform, which works with questionable categories such as white tablecloth restaurants, there are comments such as “Best Viener Schnitzel ever”, “Only 1 point for CASH ONLY!!! “and “Goulash with dumplings (cost extra)” together.

Z Like refuge. A tavern is rarely a purely catering institution: It is a home replacement, a place of being noticed, of being set up. On to W.

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