Christian Tschida around the Globe – Part 3

Foto: Ingo Pertramer

“The Butcher of Paris” or the nature of the Austrian

Christian Tschida needs no introduction. It is no coincidence that his fantastic wines can be found on the wine lists of the most prestigious restaurants and trendiest wine bars around the globe. For the third time, Christian shares a few of his adventures with us. Anecdotes in his own words, unfiltered.

Chantal Crousel, art gallery in Paris

It was once again “necessary” to travel to France, this time for an exciting tasting at the Chantal Crousel art gallery in Paris.
The reception could not have been better, at the entrance I met David Leclapart, a “creator of art” from Montagne De Reims.
Winemakers like him – alongside Jerome Prevost with La Closerie, Pascal Agrapart, Jacques Sellosse and many others – have brought a certain freshness to Champagne. 

This type of person can be found in every wine region in the world, there is always this handful of guys who question so-called traditions as well as the local mainstream and think in new ways … 
They are responsible for the fact that, after ten years of abstinence, I now and again empty a bottle of champagne. 
The brittle charm of the Paris metro in the morning was suddenly forgotten – because the current exhibition was dedicated to none other than the Austrian artist Heimo Zobernig. There were around 20 works, including some great drawings. The feeling of happiness was overwhelming and I am slowly beginning to understand (at least to some extent) how people from Austria feel when they see or buy or drink or eat Austrian exports such as art or wine abroad.

I’m not talking about those Austrians who are looking for the best Wiener Schnitzel of their lives in Bangkok, but those who discover a non-traditional Grüner Veltliner on the wine list in Barcelona and order it from the sommelier with a proudly swollen chest.
That’s how I felt when I saw the works of Heimo Zobernig. I was simply delighted that he was being given the respect he deserves in Paris, perhaps even more so than in Austria – which is no different for many winemakers …
The line-up of the tasting was top-class, with a clear focus on France: Champagne, Loire and Jura were heavily in the majority.
I myself had five wines on my table for tasting: “Himmel auf Erden Rosé”, “A.E.I.O.U.”, “Himmel auf Erden Grande Cuvée”, “Birdscape Pink” and a barrel sample of Blaufränkisch Edelgraben.

Christian Tschida (right) with David Leclapart (left)

The rosé caused an extra stir among guests and producers alike, as it was still a barrel sample, the wine was wild and it was the chalkiness that spoke from its soul. It was a similar effect on the palate to certain Grand Cru Champagnes, it was as if you were eating white chalk. 
David Leclapart’s table certainly offered my highlight of the tasting, as it featured a single wine. 
The “Aphrodisiaque” was a knockout, everything was present in lavish measure: Citric freshness that defied the wood, saltiness and chalkiness, absolute purezza.

I “had” to “taste” the wine several times, during the last two glasses David looked at me very questioningly, out of pure hedonistic egoism I ignored his gaze. On a side note, his charming wife came up with the name “Aphrodisiaque” – shame on anyone who thinks evil of it.
At one of the tables next to me was a rebelliously gesticulating young man called Elias, who had just returned from a year-long internship in Australia. 

In the middle: Elias Muster

Elias is the son of Maria and Sepp Muster, who delight the world with wines such as “Sgaminegg” and “Erde” from Styria. He is the spitting image of his mother and his youthful influence is now palpable. 
The result is something of a trend: spectacular freshness and maturity at the same time, an aromatic rarity. 

The Butcher of Paris

It was high time to switch from liquid to solid food and what happened next was more reminiscent of scenes from the legendary feature film “The Grand Bouffe” (original title: La grande bouffe) with Michel Piccoli, Marcello Mastroianni and Andréa Ferréol as the femme fatale. The scene in which she prepares mashed potatoes – with the legendary La Ratte potatoes and an equal amount of butter – and feeds the men with a huge wooden spoon is legendary. In my youth I was always looking for a woman like this, she was my ideal image for a long time – unfortunately I never found her … 

“The Butcher of Paris” is a place where this really all goes down, it’s a delicatessen and butcher’s store, bistro and wine bar all in one. The service is merciless to us guests and brings well-chilled magnums, terrines and liver pâtés in an endless loop, salami, cheese from the Jura, ham, smoked meats, soups, cassoulet, sausages, ratatouille and crème brûlée until we have to “roll out” again after two hours.
In an ambitious attempt to get up, we tear out the radiator hanging behind the table, complete with anchoring screws, and the fuss is great because the chandelier has also taken a beating.

My attempts to calm the situation are successful to the extent that I don’t speak a single word of French …
Hours later, Elias and I have been strolling haphazardly through Paris for hours, slowly recovering from the mad afternoon.
A few magnificent bottles are reflected in the window of a bar – we have ended up at “Septime”, I feel saved, but that’s a whole other story.