Gourmet, Punk, Vinyl and Creative Fire at Vienna’s Foodie Hotspot

In Vienna’s unassuming 20th district, tucked away from the high gloss of the city’s classical façades, lies Mraz & Sohn,  a two-Michelin-starred, Gault&Millau 18.5-point gastronomic legend that’s as revered for its creativity as it is for its casual charm. This is a place where food, family and finesse meet in one of Austria’s most compelling culinary narratives, shaped over three generations with precision, mischief and soul.

Founded by Karl Mraz and now helmed by his son Markus, with grandson Lukas in the kitchen, Mraz & Sohn is a collaboration of lineage and imagination that resists the stiffness so often associated with fine dining. This is not a place of reverent silence or culinary ego. Instead, it is playful, expressive and joyfully unpredictable. Manuel Mraz, once part of the team, now devotes himself entirely to visual art. His works still hang on the restaurant’s walls, and his gallery, just a few steps away, adds another creative thread to this family tapestry where food and art continuously echo one another.

Mraz & Sohn is known for its shape-shifting tasting menus that blur the line between experiment and intuition. There is no printed menu, only a sequence of beautifully assembled surprises that appear with an easy rhythm, introduced by the chefs themselves, often with a wink or a story. Diners are encouraged to let go of expectations and trust the moment. Ingredients might include fir-smoked Danube salmon, fig leaf curd, fermented pumpkin or maybuck game in early spring. A dish of oysters might arrive doused in pine oil, followed by a playful nod to the humble schnitzel: reconstructed, deconstructed or reimagined altogether.

The signatures change constantly, but it’s the spirit that remains consistent: bold flavour combinations delivered with technique, humour and visual elegance. There is often a moment of levity, a flash of absurdity or a nostalgic reference made strange and new. One course might arrive on a block of ice, another nestled in a moss-lined bowl or painted with unexpected pops of colour. Here, the tasting menu is not theatre in the traditional sense but an invitation to have fun with flavour, to be surprised and to let your guard down. It is high craft with a casual shrug.

The room itself, redesigned by Viennese architectural studio BÜRO KLK, holds this same balance of sophistication and ease. Coarse spruce tabletops, untreated black steel and tactile clay plaster create a space that feels rooted and authentic. It is minimalist, but not in a cold or austere way. Flos lighting casts a natural glow over each dish, elevating their textures without fuss. Contemporary Austrian artworks line the walls, including pieces by Manuel Mraz, offering another layer of narrative to the experience.

There’s also an irrepressible playfulness that threads through the dining room. A record might crackle out something joyfully unexpected, Freddie Mercury, perhaps, while a gentleman at the next table, grey-haired and grinning, strums an invisible guitar between courses. It’s all very deliberate, and all very un-Vienna in the best possible way.

Markus and Lukas Mraz know exactly what they’re doing. One wears his hair long, the other his beard, and together they’ve created a space that dances between precision and punk. Art hangs on the walls, vinyl spins behind the pass, and on the table, things are no less rebellious. The food is fine dining, yes, but stripped of its starch and strictness — dressed instead in humour, instinct and the pleasure of surprise.

You might start with something like a frozen liver dumpling, cold and silky and slightly absurd — in theory. In practice, it’s a moment of strange brilliance that lands exactly as it should. Or there’s the hamachi, citrus-cured and finished with physalis, sweet habanero and ginger blossom. It’s bold, bright and fast on the palate, like a great chorus line. One dish arrives styled as a Turkish lahmacun, paper-thin and brushed with banana vinegar and coffee oil, a pairing that has no right to work, but absolutely does. Another appears as a tomato mandala, all elegant restraint until the Aivar, Dashi vinegar and Shiso unfold into deep, symphonic complexity.

Later, perhaps the crescendo: hamachi again, this time with shaved summer truffle, dried porcini and toasted germ. Rich, aromatic and unashamedly layered, it’s a dish that builds and builds, then lingers. That’s the pattern here — dishes that start as curiosities and finish as unforgettable notes.

Mraz & Sohn doesn’t imitate its more classic compatriots. It doesn’t have to. It hums to its own frequency — spirited, sincere and confidently off-centre. Here, culinary brilliance is not performed behind a curtain. It’s lived, out loud, with a generous helping of laughter and a tracklist worth listening to.

As the late Christoph Wagner once said, “If Viennese cuisine had a future, this is what it would taste like.” That future is alive and evolving in the hands of the Mraz family, guided by a deep-rooted instinct for flavour, surprise and the joy of the unexpected. Here, food is not simply served. It is composed with humour and heart.