Mühle - Schluchsee
Rating: 17/20
Where: Schluchsee, Germany
When: Dinner for 2 on 19 June 2023
Cost: Tasting menu 174 Euro, Wine pairing 94 Euro
Accolades: 2 Michelin Stars
Why: Delicious dishes with an emphasis on seafood; liberal use of salt
“Mühle” (the mill) is a two-Michelin-starred restaurant located in south-western Germany. A fifty minute drive on winding roads from Freiburg leads one to the Schluchsee, a lake in the Southern Black Forest. Here, a four-centuries-old farmhouse has been converted into an upscale hotel, and the restaurant downstairs provides an additional reason to spend the night. We didn't stay at the hotel, but the fact that the restaurant went from zero to one to two Michelin stars over the span of just two years was reason enough to check it out
The dining room uses lots of wood, keeping with the wood-built farmhouse theme, but otherwise the design is modern. If it wasn't for the uncommonly low ceilings, one wouldn't suspect that the room dates from 1603. All eight tables were filled with parties of two on the Monday night of our visit. We were the only ones being served in English, which was no problem - a translated menu was available, and the staff spoke excellent English.
Speaking of the menu, Mühle served a single tasting menu, but dietary restrictions were taken into account. And there were a few choices to be made: caviar could be added to a dish, and for the main course one was able to pick between local venison and Japanese wagyu. A wine pairing was available as well, with enjoyable, but not mind-blowing wines that went fine with the food. A decent choice for the price.
Sadly, the wine pairing began only after an extensive series of amuse bouches, so getting an aperitif was not a bad idea. I tried the house lemon bellini, which turned out to be a fine cocktail, but too sweet to be a good match for the beginning of the meal. It was a bit surprising that a lemon bellini was sweeter than the traditional peach variety.
A trio of bites started our dinner, all served on different crackers. Goat cheese, pickled cucumber and a bit of miso were served on a cracker shell that had a light crunch. The cheese was surprisingly heavy and dense - a lighter beginning to the meal might have been better. Thankfully, the crunchy cucumber brightened up the dish a bit. The miso was subtle enough to combine seamlessly with the other flavors 16.
Next, a pastry ring that was filled with trout tartare, trout roe, creme fraiche and radishes. Again, I thought that the filling was a bit heavy on cream. The mealy cracker was a nice textural complement, though 16. My wife liked the trout a lot, and said that my rating was too stingy.
The last bite in the trio was a venison pate paired with boudin noir. It was a meaty mouthful that tasted a bit like a rich sausage. I probably wouldn’t have guessed “venison” if I hadn't read the menu 16. The pescatarian alternative was a vegetable salad with sour cream on top of a flatbread cracker (“Schüttelbrot”). Much lighter than the other nibbles on offer here, but also not as flavorful 15.
Two more amuse bouches arrived, one served after another. First, a lightly poached oyster was cut into bite-size pieces and served at room temperature with celery, wasabi and a lemon vinaigrette. Both oyster and sauce had a welcome creaminess, and the sauce had a light herbal note, probably from dill. A nice preparation, but not a “raw oyster” by any means. In fact, trying to slurp this dish was doomed to failure (based on our misguided attempts) - better to use a spoon. Interestingly, the silverware tonight was available in a hidden drawer under the table, so whether a course required a spoon, fork and/or knife was really up to the diner (and the two of us sometimes disagreed) 17.
The last amuse bouche was based on white asparagus. Slices of white asparagus sat on top of a mousse of smoked creme fraiche and asparagus, which was served with a vinaigrette and char caviar. Balanced atop the serving bowl was a cracker decorated with dollops of watercress cream. This dish was lovely, another step up. The asparagus was light in flavor, but the smokiness of the creme fraiche was very well done - present, but not overpowering. The caviar added some texture and lightened up the dish. The accompanying cracker had a light crunch, and the watercress was also full of flavor. The dish would have been great even without the cracker, but it wasn’t distracting either 18.
In retrospect, the appetizers were a procession of quite rich bites, with an emphasis on sour cream and creme fraiche. A curious choice for a fine-dining restaurant, where one would usually expect lighter fare early on. Also interestingly, the dishes mostly burst with flavor, and that was partially due to the very generous use of salt. To be frank, I prefer to err on the side of more salt rather than too little. But here, the salt went beyond being a flavor-enhancer and became almost a main ingredient in itself. Slightly less would have been more.
Before the main part of the tasting menu, we were served a slice of homemade sourdough bread with a salted butter. This bread had a really nice crunch, but the interior of the bread was pretty neutral in taste. Probably good as a match for the food, but judged solely as a bread course, it was a bit weak 15.
Course one: a lightly cured langoustine from Norway was served atop a gel made from dashi, ginger and something else that I didn't catch. There were dollops of orange cream made from the same langoustine (its head, judging by the taste), some tiny crackers, and a green celery gazpacho. This dish managed an impressive and non-trivial combination: it was very light (especially compared to the amuse bouches), but packed the same flavor punch as the previous bites. The langoustine was prepared perfectly, and the flavors of all components came together harmoniously with acidity and umami complementing the lovely almost-raw langoustine 18.
Next: a smoked brown trout that had been sourced only twenty minutes from the restaurant. It was served with dollops of chive cream, pickled and folded slivers of kohlrabi, as well as a sauce made from kohlrabi, trout caviar, and chives. Delicious. The trout by itself was not that exciting, but the combination of the acidic, crunchy, slightly sweet kohlrabi, the chive cream, and the smoky trout made for a great union of flavors 18.
Plaice from Brittany was topped with oven-roasted leeks, kombu seaweed, pommes soufflés, and was accompanied by a beurre blanc sauce made with vin jaune and kombu oil. We had chosen an upgrade for this course: Belgian caviar on a cracker. In hindsight, this upgrade was not really necessary. Not that it was bad - the caviar was salty and flavorful, the slightly mealy cracker maybe an odd base for it. But the rest of the dish didn't need these flavors or textures, they were at best distracting and at worst overpowering the other, lighter ingredients. The fish was cooked to an almost creamy consistency, but unfortunately arrived only lukewarm at the table. The sauce, fish and topping came together nicely, but I tasted more dill than kombu, and the beurre blanc could have been a bit more acidic - that would have cut through the fattiness of the fish better 17. My wife thought that the fish was “out of control good”, and would have given this dish a 19.
An (almost) vegetarian interlude was pickled celeriac, filled with a parsley salad and topped with a lukewarm egg yolk. It was surrounded by a chicken broth that also contained parsley. For pescatarians, the chicken broth was replaced by a mushroom essence. Overall, this was a surprisingly meaty dish. The broth was pretty thick, and the egg yolk added more creaminess to it. A nice combination, and a good heft without the use of any butter or cream 17. My wife reported that the mushroom broth was much better than its chicken cousin and would have rated this an 18.
Grilled monkfish was served with sliced green beans that had been cooked with sake and butter. Also on the plate: a cream made from cauliflower and roasted butter, as well as a sauce made from grilled monkfish bones and sherry. The fish was cooked perfectly, and the beans were a nice crunchy addition. The sauce was excellent, but extremely salty (coming from someone who loves salt, that's a scary statement). Finally, the cauliflower puree was very well done, but a tad heavy, leading to a dish that was on the heavier side overall 17.
I chose Japanese A5 wagyu beef over the local venison for my main course. It was served with a sauce made from the smoked trimmings of the beef, as well as shio koji. A lightly pickled king mushroom slice sat on top of the beef, and a green asparagus and a tarragon cream were next it. Again, unsurprisingly, a very salty dish. The beef was cooked perfectly - and I wasn't even asked about my doneness preference, which for Japanese A5 wagyu is probably to way to go. The pickled mushroom was on the sweeter side, but its acidity helped cut through the fattiness and saltiness of the meat. The asparagus was decent, and the tarragon cream flavorful and heavy - a bit like the cauliflower cream from the preceding dish 18.
The pescatarian alternative to the beef course was oven-roasted kale served with kale chips, onions, little mushrooms and a vadouvan cream sauce. This sauce was amazing, it had strong flavors and was perfectly seasoned. So was the rest of this dish; creaminess, crispiness (and saltiness) came together wonderfully 19.
A pre-dessert featured a stack of (from the bottom) matcha cream, matcha yogurt ice cream, pandan cream and lemon granite. A lovely combination, with acidity from the lemons, creaminess all around, and almost no bitterness from the matcha 18.
The main dessert was an ode to local strawberries. Raw strawberries, strawberry sorbet and a strawberry sauce were finished with a buttermilk cream and buttermilk ganache. Sancho peppers were found both in the cream and the sauce. A really nice riff on “strawberries and cream”, this dish had fruitiness and creaminess in abundance. I couldn't taste the pepper, and the fried rings on top of the strawberry sorbet were an odd distraction, but otherwise this was really nice 17.
An optional cheese course featured six cheeses, quite varied and all of them good, but sadly none of them local. Fig mustard, pickled grapes and a fruit nut bread were served on the side. Recommended 17.
Our dinner ended after 4 1/2 hours that practically flew by. Three petit fours were served together. Yogurt macaroons were quite sweet, but the slight acidity from the yogurt was a nice addition 16. A black forest kirsch bite was one of the few nods to the location of the restaurant - a play on the famous Black Forest cake. This dish was a bit too delicate for our fingers, it fell apart when we picked it up. I liked the hint of kirsch, but the chocolate dough in the cup was a bit too crumbly compared to a “real” Black Forest cake 15. Finally, a choux pastry filled with coffee cream was crunchy on the outside, its cream was thankfully not too sweet, but the coffee flavor was surprisingly light 15.
Looking back at our dinner, I was struck by two observations. First, the trout was the only local seafood or meat ingredient on the tasting menu - the rest hailed from Norway, France and even Japan. And second, the main part of the menu didn't feel particularly “German” - it was light modern cuisine that could also have been served in, say, Scandinavia. Nothing wrong with either, but the lack of a sense of place made me wonder - why serve these particular dishes in the middle of nowhere in the Black Forest? Perhaps the answer is simply “because they taste damn good”, and of course, at the end of the day I'll take that over any intellectually overreaching kitchen philosophy.
Overall: This was a delicious meal in Southern Germany with good service. Especially the main courses were light and very good, with several examples of excellent seafood. Yes, few dishes on this menu seemed particularly German, and there was a bit too much salt all around. But those are nitpicks in the end 17.
