“Iris vom Essers”: What the Cologne wine expert recommends for schnitzel

In Cologne it’s gray, wet, cold and you are not allowed to work either. Don’t you get homesick?

Iris Griessauf: I am homesick at the moment. Especially because my mother and my best friend back home in Styria believe that they are doing you an incredible favor by sending you a photo with blue skies and snow-covered, deserted slopes. I miss skiing soooo! Especially since I would have time for once, a lot of time. I was really close to going to my mom in Graz. There are several ski areas around it.

Then you can understand that the people of Cologne flock to the snow in the Eifel and Sauerland.

Understand, yes, but it wouldn’t be mine – it has to be something more than a short meadow slope. (laughs)

Without lockdown, you often work seven days a week. How do you get the time around now?

You are so slowed down, it still looks unnatural. The few hours spent on the out-of-home offer have nothing to do with the work we’re used to. You tend to do that to keep in touch with regular guests. You don’t really get it, the time. Before Christmas I baked vanilla croissants with Johanna, my 13-year-old daughter – that’s never been done before. Or we have a Christmas tree this year, a huge Christmas tree. Otherwise there is always a ladder on which we hang the Christmas tree decorations, because it doesn’t pay off for the short time that you are usually at home. That was very nice, but now Christmas is over, now it’s getting really bitter. If we can open again in March, we must be happy. It turns my stomach, especially since we paid our people, but haven’t seen anything from the November aid. And I just don’t have the strength to look for something that fills me for the two or three months. I don’t know what that should be.

That leaves to take-away sales at the weekend.

Yes, you can window at the eater. (laughs) That’s better than nothing, because it means variety for our two chefs too. Otherwise they work a lot more. Gastronomy is a way of life, not a job. You don’t think of anything else. It’s hard to bear for us – we all part like yeast dumplings. (laughs).

From the outside, your restaurant looks like a cozy corner bar. What is your philosophy

We want to be an inn, not a restaurant. The difference is that you can lick the plates in the inn. (laughs). I want to be the middle thing between bar and restaurant. Andreas is a product fanatic. We don’t have any table linen. Cutlery and plates are not that important. What is important is what is on the plate.

This inn quality, which is known from Austria and southern Germany, has not been around in Cologne for so long.

I was utterly horrified when I came here in the 90s that it didn’t exist. Pizzerias, gyros stalls, Asians, but there was no such thing as simply getting a goulash goulash. So goulash is, but not a good one. Or it was very expensive. I didn’t understand that this middle thing didn’t exist.

Has that changed?

Yes, yes. Many new, young restaurateurs are going back to their roots, wanting to cook like they used to. Some of them come from the star kitchen and don’t feel like it anymore. The Marc Flogaus from Metzger & Marie, or Bernd Stollenwerk, who is now around the corner in Hotzenplotz. Tobi and Jan vom Maibeck got a star, but they weren’t really keen on it, they just wanted to cook well. When we started in Ehrenfeld in 2004, nobody had written on the menu where their meat came from. We did, I thought that was important. And every meat scandal played into my cards. There are people who say: “Iris, I only eat chicken with you.” They come from the Millianshof in Bergheim-Reith. Fried chicken runs like crazy here, but is only served once a month. Because the farm can’t deliver any more chickens. Point. That is also not discussed. This is very important to us.

How did you end up in Cologne?

I came to Cologne with my boyfriend at the time. He went to university and I started at the Hotel Mercure Severinshof, later in the Thalys office, then worked in a PR agency. Then Andreas lured me away. The Essers was then in Sülz / Klettenberg, where the Eckstein is today. In 2001 I started as a temporary worker, Andreas made the bar and his brother cooked. And then it happened (laughs) then I grabbed the boss and said: Well, now I’ll show you how to do it. (laughs out loud). That’s how it happened. Today I’m just incredibly proud of what I bring from the kitchen, what Andreas is cooking. Conversely, he’s also proud of what I do. If he says: that’s the recommendation today, sell me this ten times, then I’ll sell it. B. the lamb shank. On a plate, there is something on it. A cook colleague from top gastronomy who once ate them here said enthusiastically: “Dude, I’ll make five servings out of it.” (laughs) …

… but that is very German …

… yes, that is very German. For the first two or three years I didn’t understand the world anymore: Why don’t the guests whom I want to do something good for? So I just kept going, and every time someone agreed to it, I won. “Thanks for the tip, Iris, it was so delicious, I would never have ordered it otherwise.” Now you trust me.

What did you learn?

I was at the higher education institute for tourism professions in Bad Gleichenberg. A five-year training in a boarding school with cooking, serving, marketing, nutrition, two foreign languages ​​and work-related internships. Carrying loads of plates around, I’ve been able to do that since I was 15. And when a sauce has run off, I can say it in the kitchen, which of course nobody wants to hear. When it became clear that we were going to open Essers Gasthaus, which was twice the size of the store before, I decided to start the sommelier school. I didn’t want anyone to tell me the wine was corking, and I don’t smell it. Not to be able to correct the guest – he’s always right anyway – but I just want to know.

Since then you have been celebrating German-Austrian cuisine.

There used to be a Koelsch Kaschämme in here. They made potato pancakes and bacon pancakes. Mediocre brewery kitchen. We have specialized in what was closest to us: Cologne and Graz. We have many products from the region, but also from Styria. Kernel oil, for example, that’s our elixir of life there. Or the pork is from there too.
Wine plays a much bigger role in an inn than in a brewery. I know 90 percent of our winemakers personally. In the beginning we had around 60 items on the wine list, today there are twice as many. Word gets around.

In what way?

Especially with colleagues. Lots of people come to eat here because we have a good, affordable wine list and the food tastes good too. On Sundays and Mondays we have a relatively large number of guests from the gastronomy here because they then have a day off. We are not. (laughs). Our food is not only so good because Andreas cooks so much better than others, but because the basic product is so good. The fact that one roast pork tastes better than another has to do with the pig. The breakthrough for us was a very loving review in the “Kölner Stadt-Anzeiger”, at the time by Helmut Gote. After that the hut was full.

And today?

Today one tells the other. And we’re evolving. Without Corona, 2020 would have been the mega year. We have also hired a cook and a second sommelier, Luise Volkert. She comes from star gastronomy, studied in Hamburg at the Louis C. Jacob on the Alster, then spent years in Flamersheim. The great thing is: we think alike. When I know that a certain guest is coming in the evening, I choose a wine during the day. Sometimes I even open it so that it can breathe, which is great for the guest. When I ask Luise for advice, she is always with me. It goes hand in hand. And when I’m free now, I’m really free.

You were nominated by Falstaff for Sommelier of the Year in 2019?

Yes, that was really nice. The Falstaff is much more important in Austria than it is here, and my mother has been reading it for as long as I can remember. I then took her to the award ceremony in Essen because I would not have been able to do the training at the time without her support.

Do you have to know about wine as a guest?

No, but it is helpful if you know what you don’t like. People from Cologne would almost certainly drink beer with schnitzel or chicken. But not with me! A Styrian Sauvignon Blanc goes with the fried chicken, the fruity acidity goes well with the buttery-crispy breading. For schnitzel, I recommend a Veltliner with a little oomph, a local wine is best, one location would be too strong. Or a German, fruity, old Riesling, a Kabinett. I would just let the insecure guest try. If it tastes good, maybe he’ll take a second glass. (laughs)

What is your favorite food?

Fried chicken. And when I get out: I’m really into these Asian ramen soups at the moment.

And carnival do they take refuge in the snow?

No. When I arrived here on 11/11/1995 after driving almost a thousand kilometers from Graz and saw some clowns on the street, I thought I was hallucinating. Now we are part of “Loss mer singe” every year, always on the Thursday before Weiberfastnacht. Andreas, born in the Severinsklösterchen, still helps with clearing out the bar and then is gone. I sometimes stand on the counter in the evening and sing along. Too bad, canceled this year too.

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