schiller-wine

Birthday dinner at Euro Bistro in Herndon, owned and operated by Raimund Stieger and his wife Noni.

Raimund comes from the Lake Constance region of Vorarlberg – where Austria, Germany and Switzerland meet, close to the Austrian/ Bavarian border. Operating since 1999, the restaurant specializes in authentic Austrian and Bavarian cuisine, including Wiener Schnitzel and Apfelstrudel, with Raimund in the kitchen. Arguably, Euro Bistro is the best Austrian/ German restaurant in Northern Virginia.

A plus: All wines are US$30 per bottle, including excellent Austrian wines from the Klaus Wittauer selection. I had a bottle of 2019 Anton Bauer Zweigelt. Super.

Client-Savvy Euro Bistro April 20, 2001 By Eve Zibart (Washington Post)

IT MAY NOT be the most fashionable of mottoes in restaurant circles these days -- where theme, decor, celebrity associations or sheer conspicuous expense seem to be defining factors -- but it's a real basic one: Know thy audience.

Raimund Stieger made his name as chef at the Pisces Club, a Georgetowners' hangout of the '70s and '80s known for its social list-political op membership. That was a generation ago in real and restaurant terms, and Stieger has been moving out with the times and the suburban flow, stopping off for a while at Fairfax's Fish Stories and two years ago settling into Euro Bistro in a shopping strip at the heart of the Reston-Herndon explosion.

Fried calamari with smoked tomato sauce. Shrimp tempura. Pork pot stickers. Satay. (That's Italian, Japanese, Chinese and Thai, so far.) Pizza, topped California-, New Orleans- and Barcelona-style. Seafood stew with lemon grass (Southeast Asian). Caesar salad (which, if you remember, is actually Mexican, via Acapulco). Crab cakes (Chesapeake). Salmon roulade stuffed with crab in lemon-dill sauce with potato pancakes (Scandinavian/Russian/Central European?).

But for all that, Stieger's strong point, and the real draw, is the Black Forest fare: the Wiener schnitzel and Jaeger schnitzel, fried and sauteed veal cutlets; the pork chops sauteed with rosemary and sided with sweet-sour red cabbage; the frequent specials of sauerbraten and goulash and Bauern Schmaus. Spaetzle (light, unclumpy and just crumbly enough to roll around on the tongue). And really good sauerkraut, for which more people would give thanks if they ever tried it.

Like the area, Stieger's clientele is a mix of longtime residents who still believe in dressing for dinner, newer tract-mansion imports entertaining in Friday office casuals and young parents celebrating a night out without the kids. It's a packed house, "seating" about 50 without leaving much salvage for walking or waiting. (The tables are pressed together and rearranged in sort of modular fashion, occasionally two couples are seated at far ends of a six-top.) The squeeze means that if you're seated near the front or rear of the room, you may have five or six other people hovering overhead with glasses in hand; it also means that while the bathrooms are wheelchair accessible, actually wheeling between tables to get there might be a trick at peak times.

There isn't much in the way of decor outside of the paintings, which are for sale, part of the area arts community exhibit program. (The current collection is quite striking.) There's not much to absorb noise in this place, either, but at least you're not swimming in Muzak. The place settings are nice, vaguely rustic in design. And while none of the food is five-star, this is not a place people are looking to find elaborate fare, or prices -- they just want something dependable and filling and convenient and personal. Stieger knows his audience, and he's making them happy.

The appetizers are a mixed bag. The calamari is perfectly satisfactory; the "pot stickers" aren't, but might be if they were called empanadas and you weren't expecting a pork-and-veggie-stuffed thin wrapper instead of deep-fried thick dough and stolid stuffing. The satay, particularly a special lamb version, was first-rate, aromatically marinated and still pink inside. Red bell pepper soup was very nice, though the smattering of crabmeat didn't actually make much impression one way or another. And the bread is pretty good, which, sadly, is worth pointing out these days.

The Bauern Schmaus is a sort of mixed grill or charcuterie platter, combining a plump pink knockwurst, a pale and rather bouncy-fleshed bratwurst and smoked-pink and tender pork loin with the sauerkraut and possibly the finest over-roasted potatoes you'll ever eat out. (Those latkes won't hurt your happy button, either.) The Jaeger schnitzel is generous, several slices in a plain but glossy gravy, though newcomers should realize that Austrian-style veal is well-done, not scallopini-soft. The sauerbraten is a little disappointing, not quite as sweet-sour or as soft as this quintessential pot roast might be, but satisfying.

The pizzas are the crispy, thin-crust variety and get to be a little eclecto-cute sometimes (that must be the California Pizza Kitchen influence); but the Austrian pie is actually a little different, something between quiche Lorraine and potatoes Anna on pastry.

The mixed white and sun-dried tomato rigatoni with scallops and shrimp is fine, the seafood lightly done and the cream sauce as well. It brings up an important point: Stieger has developed a very light hand with the salt, which allows those who don't like heavy seasoning or who aren't supposed to consume much sodium to season to taste at the table. This is a good trend around town, but I do wish more restaurants would get rid of the prepackaged salt and bland pre-ground pepper in favor of small grinders for black pepper and kosher or sea salt. Everything in moderation -- but always the right stuff.

Euro Bistro is a dangerous place for dessert eaters, incidentally; the "sinful" chocolate is one of those flourless, chocolate decadence bits of ganache with white chocolate mousse; and the sachertorte, though a little short on the apricot preserves, is plenty rich.

Chef Raimund Steiger prepares crowd-pleasing meals at Euro Bistro.

Dinner

Oliver Hess

Chicken Marsala made me smile ,-)

Christian Schiller

Oliver Hess Raimund vom Bodensee ist mit Noni aus Indonesien verheiratet. Die kocht auch manchmal mit und ist fuer asiatische …

Oliver Hess

Christian Schiller sieht sehr gut aus was die machen und ich kenne es ja aus meine Zeiten in San Diego, so ein Stück Heimat hat was.

Wine

Food

Roland Young

Except calling a schweinesschnitzel a wienerschnitzel on the menu is not very authentic. Wienerschnitzel is ALWAYS veal and not pork….

Christian Schiller

Roland Young Indeed. They should call it Schnitzel Wiener Art. In Germany, while Wiener Schnitzel is protected by law to be veal, Wiener Art ("Vienna Kind") implies a similar method but with alternative meats.