Inflight Magazine of Brussels Airlines

Viennese whirl

Text Neville Walker

If you’ve got a couple of hours to kill in the Austrian capital, there are few more pleasant ways of doing so than with ‘Kaffee und Kuchen’ at one of the city’s many coffee houses

I’m sitting alone in Café Europa in Vienna’s 7th district, scribbling notes. The waiter aside, no one is paying me any attention. Bigger things than magazine articles have been planned in Vienna’s cafés: Griensteidl was the birthplace of Austria’s modern literary movement and Trotsky whiled away his political exile in the improbably bourgeois surroundings of Café Central.

The coffee is good – a giant Häferlkaffee, a milky coffee served in a pot – and the freshly squeezed orange juice is delicious. In every Viennese coffee house, coffee is accompanied by a free glass of water, but here it’s a carafe and its presentation has been turned into an art form, with wedges of lemon and lime and sprigs of fresh mint.

The various liquids provide an excellent pretext, because I’m trying to see if it’s possible to idle away an entire day in cafés. It’s the awkward period between breakfast and lunch, but so far I’m succeeding. And I’m not the only idler here. In a corner sits a young woman engrossed in a thick novel she’s in no hurry to finish. At the far end of the bar friends laugh and gossip, their coffee, like mine, eked out for as long as possible.

Vienna’s 800-plus coffee houses sell light meals and a bewildering variety of coffees. That much at least they have in common with coffee shops around the world and the Starbucks outlets that have begun to colonise the city. But there’s no sense of pressure here or of them being a profit opportunity.

The writer Stefan Zweig described the Viennese coffee house as a democratic club for which the entry fee was a cup of coffee. Once paid, you’re free to sit, discuss, write, play cards or consume at length any of the free newspapers and magazines that are always at hand in even the humblest of the city’s cafés, attached to poles so you can’t take them with you.

Café Europa’s decor is international and contemporary. Take away the specifics and it could be anywhere. The same can’t be said for the gorgeously tatty Café Jelinek, tucked down a side street off the busy Mariahilferstrasse, where my day began. Here the clock seems to have stopped during the austere post-war era when Vienna, like Berlin, was divided into British, French, American and Soviet occupation zones.

Jelinek’s interior looks like a set from The Third Man. You expect to see Joseph Cotten and Alida Valli hunched over a table deep in discussion or a sinister Erich Ponto watching your every move from behind a curtain. A sign at the door says “No cigars”, but the décor has been stained by just about every other form of tobacco smoke. The chairs are plush velvet and the tables marble-topped, as they should be. The breakfast is a hearty affair of rolls, cheeses, ham and a soft-boiled egg, with juice and Häferlkaffee to wash it all down.

My venue for lunch is the Café-Restaurant Hummel, a versatile prototype for everything that’s right about the Viennese café tradition.

It’s bigger than Jelinek and lacks the intellectual atmosphere of Europa. The interior is brownish and unremarkable and in fine weather the broad terrace outside is sunny and popular.

At 1pm it’s a hive of activity. The waiters are efficient and friendly, while the customers include everyone from businessmen with laptops to elderly locals eating a light lunch. It may be a classic, but the Hummel moves with the times: all the traditional Viennese coffee types are available decaffeinated and there’s a vegetarian menu. Although there are substantial meals on offer, I opt for something simpler: two Debreziner sausages with sweet mustard and a semmel roll for €2.70.

I walk it off on the way back to the Ringstrasse and Café Landtmann, the most elegant of all Viennese cafés.

It stands next to Burgtheater, one of the most prestigious theatres in the German-speaking world, and is close enough to the Austrian parliament to be the haunt of politicians as well as actors. The terrace and funky winter garden are packed, so I take a seat inside.

Landtmann was rebuilt in 1929 and its stately wood panelling, lofty ceilings and hushed atmosphere give it the haughty grandeur of an art deco ocean liner. Like the café itself, the waiters are taller and more imposing than elsewhere. I order a glass of Grüner Veltliner. The white wine is as cool and elegant as the surroundings.

Mid-afternoon is the classic time for Kaffee und Kuchen (coffee and cake). All Viennese cafés sell cake, but for the most mind-boggling selection you must head for a Café-Konditorei. King of them all is Demel, a few metres from the Habsburgs’ imperial palace in Kohlmarkt, Vienna’s grandest shopping street. Demel displays its K.u.K Hofzuckerbäcker (royal and imperial court confectioner) status as though the Habsburgs might be restored at any moment.

At the front of the café is a shop dispensing elaborately packaged confections to take home to Osaka or Omaha. The obvious souvenir is Demel’s Sachertorte. Until 1965, Demel was in dispute with Hotel Sacher over the right to declare itself the true home of the bitter (and, in truth, mildly disappointing) chocolate cake. But today Demel is too busy for comfort, so I stroll deeper into the old town to find an alternative.

I’m tempted by the elegant and spacious Café Diglas in Wollzeile, but settle for L Heiner, another K.u.K Hofzuckerbäcker. It’s tiny, unassuming and entirely devoid of tourists. There’s a vast display of pastries and gateaux in the glass cabinet at the front.

Austrian cakes are made with care from good ingredients. Thankfully Austrian bakers are sparing in their use of sugar, so even the most elaborate creations aren’t necessarily sickly. Kaffee und Kuchen can mean anything from a classic apple strudel or simple marbled Gugelhupf sponge to the most elaborate multi-layered creations, such as Dobostorte with chocolate cream and a crunchy caramel top. I opt for a fruity Sommertorte topped with blackberries, blueberries and raspberries, with a side helping of whipped cream and a mélange – a Viennese cappuccino – to wash it all down.

Afterwards, resisting the temptation of the smart Café Engländer, the retro 1950s Café Prückel or Café Frauenhuber, where Beethoven was a customer, I succumb to the funky modern charms of Kunsthalle-Café on Karlsplatz, where in summer trendy young things lounge in seaside deckchairs on the lawn outside.

For such an indolent pastime, my day idling in cafés has involved an awful lot of walking. I return to my hotel to rest before dining on Daube de Boeuf and a glass of Zweigelt – an Austrian red wine – at the relaxed lesbian and gay-friendly Café Willendorf. My odyssey ends at Café Drechsler, a night owl’s favourite recently reworked by Sir Terence Conran. There’s some groovy 70s lighting and wallpaper in the back room, but for the most apart it’s a simple and elegant place, with red banquettes and a soft-rock soundtrack. The tables are stone-topped, of course – Sir Terence recognises a classic when he sees one.

Where to go

Café Europa 8 Zollergasse, tel. (0)1 526 3383

Café Griensteidl 2 Michaelerplatz, tel. (0)1 535 2692

Café Central Palais Ferstel, Strauchgasse, tel. (0)1 533 376361

Café Jelinek 5 Otto Bauer-Gasse, tel. (0)1 597 4113

Café-Restaurant Hummel 66 Josefstädter Strasse, tel. (0)1 405 5314

Café Landtmann 4 Dr Karl Lueger-Ring, tel. (0)1 241 0011

Demel 14 Kohlmarkt, tel. (0)1 535 1717

Café Diglas 10 Wollzeile, tel. (0)1 512 5765

L Heiner 9 Wollzeile, tel. (0)1 512 2343

Café Engländer 2 Postgasse, tel. (0)1 966 8665

Café Prückel 24 Stubenring, tel. (0)1 512 6115

Café Frauenhuber 6 Himmelpfortgasse, tel. (0)1 512 5353

Kunsthalle-Café 2 Treitlstrasse, tel. (0)1 587 0073

Café Willendorf 102 Linke Wienzeile, tel. (0)1 587 1789

Café Drechsler 22 Linke Wienzeile, tel. (0)1 581 2044

FR> Tour viennois

Je suis assis seul, au Café Europa, en train de prendre des notes. A part le serveur, personne ne prête attention à moi. Mais de plus grandes choses que des articles de magazine ont été réalisées dans les cafés de Vienne.

Je suis en train d’évaluer la possibilité de paresser une journée entière dans ces endroits. L’écrivain Stefan Zweig a décrit le café viennois comme un club démocratique où le prix d’entrée se montait à une tasse de café. Une fois réglé, vous êtes libre de vous asseoir et de discuter, de jouer aux cartes ou de consommer sans réserve les journaux et les magazines gratuits.

Le décor d’Europa est international et contemporain. Cela pourrait se situer n’importe où. On ne peut pas en dire autant du Café Jelinek. Niché dans une petite rue transversale près de Mariahilferstrasse, le lieu a l’air d’être tiré du film ‘Le Troisième Homme’. Les chaises sont en velours somptueux et les tables couvertes de marbre.

Le Café-Restaurant Hummel est un prototype des différentes facettes qui constituent la grande tradition viennoise. C’est plus grand que Jelinek et il n’y règne pas la même atmosphère intellectuelle que chez Europa. C’est sans doute le modèle classique mais Hummel évolue avec son temps: tous les types de cafés viennois traditionnels sont servis en version décaféinée et l’on y trouve un menu végétarien.

Vient ensuite le Café Landtmann, le plus élégant des cafés viennois. Situé à côté du Burgtheater, ses panneaux en bois, ses hauts plafonds et son atmosphère feutrée lui donnent un air de grandeur, comme un énorme paquebot de croisière art déco.

En milieu d’après-midi, on y déguste le classique Kaffee und Kuchen (café et gâteau). Pour la sélection la plus fantastique, allez au Café-Konditorei. Mais l’endroit qui domine tous les autres est Demel, à quelques mètres du palais impérial des Habsbourgs à Kohlmarkt.

Mon périple se termine au Café Drechsler, récemment réaménagé par Sir Terence Conran dans le style éclatant des années 1970, avec ses luminaires et son papier peint, mais pour le reste c’est simple et élégant : banquettes rouges et dessus de tables en pierre – Sir Terence sait reconnaître un classique.

NL> Weense wals

Ik zit alleen in Café Europa wat aantekeningen te maken. Op de kelner na heeft niemand oog voor me. Er werden al belangrijker dingen voorbereid in Weense cafés dan tijdschriftartikels.

Ik wil uitvissen of je een hele dag kan verlummelen in cafés. De schrijver Stefan Zweig beschreef het Weense koffiehuis als een democratische club met een kop koffie als toegangsprijs. Zodra je hebt betaald, mag je vrij gaan zitten, discussiëren, schrijven, kaarten of rustig de gratis kranten en tijdschriften doornemen.

Het interieur van Café Europa is internationaal en hedendaags. Het zou overal kunnen zijn. Hetzelfde geld voor Café Jelinek. Verborgen in een zijstraat van de Mariahilferstrasse lijkt het op een set uit The Third Man. Fluwelen stoelen en marmeren tafelbladen.

Café-restaurant Hummel is het veelzijdige prototype van de Weense traditie. Het is groter dan Jelinek en mist de intellectuele uitstraling van Europa. Hummel gaat echter mee met zijn tijd: alle traditionele Weense koffiesoorten zijn ook cafeïnevrij verkrijgbaar en er is een vegetarisch menu.

Café Landtmann is het elegantste Weense café. Het ligt naast het Burgtheater en de houten lambrisering, hoge plafonds en intieme sfeer geven het de verheven grootsheid van een art deco stoomschip.

Halfweg de namiddag is het tijd voor Kaffee und Kuchen (koffie met gebak), een klassieker. Een overweldigende keuze vind je in CaféKonditorei. De koning onder de cafés is echter Demel, vlak bij het Habsburgse keizerlijke paleis op de Kohlmarkt.

Mijn tocht eindigt in Café Drechsler, dat onlangs werd heringericht door Sir Terence Conran. Afgezien van de hippe jaren zeventig verlichting en dito behang, is het interieur eenvoudig en elegant, met rode zitbanken en stenen tafelbladen. Ook Sir Terence kent zijn klassiekers, zoveel is duidelijk.

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