The day after the Niko­laus­kränz­le, Her­bert was drin­king cof­fee at the Engel in Schwarz­ach, my par­ents’ house. My father was imme­dia­te­ly taken with Her­bert, who is 11 years older than me — he always said, “A man under 30 is a ‘trul­lar’ — that is, a good-for-nothing — and he app­re­cia­ted Herbert’s good man­ners and dry sen­se of humour.

I still remem­ber one of my first visits to the Kro­ne: In the evening a wed­ding was announ­ced in the Kro­nen­saal and I was asked to go out onto the ter­race: the­re they gave me a Bos­ni­an cake (which is still baked accor­ding to the same reci­pe today) and cara­mel cream ( pre­pared for the evening) was ser­ved, it was won­derful. I noti­ced that the­re was a very neat kit­chen, ever­y­thing was imma­cu­l­ate­ly clean, but also a bit sober, the­re were hard­ly any flowers in the house. I would have lik­ed to deco­ra­te the­re. A litt­le later I some­ti­mes hel­ped out in the ser­vice depart­ment at the Kro­ne. I par­ti­cu­lar­ly remem­ber a car­ni­val ball, which was more like run­ning the gaunt­let for me. I was “scru­ti­ni­zed” by the who­le village.

Important events

In 1971 we got married.

In 1972, pret­ty soon after the wed­ding, we ope­ned the base­ment bar. That was some­thing spe­cial back then… our per­so­nal young hos­pi­ta­li­ty pro­ject, at that time cock­tails like “Welt­frie­den” and “Moc­caflip” were in vogue and we had a pro­fes­sio­nal bar­ten­der from the Arl­berg. The Kro­ne cel­lar bar was the only bar in the vil­la­ge, with all the advan­ta­ges and dis­ad­van­ta­ges that that entails…

In 1973 our daugh­ter Isa­bel­la was born, who is now self-employed as an inno­va­ti­on con­sul­tant and lives with her fami­ly in Lin­ge­nau — ie nearby.

It might sound fun­ny, but a big deal for us was the Sala­det­te, which we bought in 1973 — a ref­ri­ge­ra­ted salad cabi­net that was outra­ge­ous­ly expen­si­ve at the time but real­ly is still in use today! We often went to Switz­er­land to eat on the rest day, the­re were already

Raw vege­ta­ble salads, while we were still coo­king ever­y­thing. I have always pla­ced a lot of empha­sis on the salad and to this day I still think that the way a salad is pre­pared says a lot about a kitchen.

In 1976 our daugh­ter Hele­ne was born.

That was also a very important busi­ness year for Her­bert and me: the balls were no lon­ger a busi­ness and run­ning the hall was pro­ble­ma­tic over­all: for the neigh­bors, for the guests in the house and for us as a young fami­ly too. So, with a hea­vy heart, we tore down the Kro­nen­saal – de fac­to half the house – and built guest rooms with a total of 35 beds, a hotel with a lift, recep­ti­on, fire­place room. I still vivid­ly remem­ber the dis­cus­sions with site mana­ger Wal­ter Hau­ser – Hele­ne lay in the pram and we tal­ked for many evenings.

From 1977 it was neces­sa­ry to fill the house. We had pre­vious­ly had indi­vi­du­al guests from Alsace who were enthu­si­a­stic about the Bre­gen­zer­wald and we thought: good distance, nice peo­p­le, that would be a mar­ket. So tog­e­ther with Ger­trud and Otto Seiz from Ifen­blick in Sibratsgfäll we sim­ply went to Alsace in the off-season and went to tra­vel agencies.

That brought us good guests by the bus and, through recom­men­da­ti­ons in Alsace, also com­pa­ny outings from che­mi­cal labo­ra­to­ries, refi­ne­ries, clubs and seni­or citi­zen groups.

Ano­ther important part­ner later beca­me the Dutch bus com­pa­ny Leo Thys­sen, which brought groups to the house for many years.

At the end of the 1980s , qua­li­ty bus tou­rism col­lap­sed – the pri­ce war began, it was­n’t a fun time. We had to offer very chea­p­ly and soon we had two break­fast buf­fets — one for bus tra­ve­lers and one for pri­va­te travelers.

We then work­ed con­sis­t­ent­ly to only get more pri­va­te guests — a tough time. Hel­pful was our good kit­chen, fami­ly cele­bra­ti­ons, diners who recom­men­ded us and litt­le by litt­le pri­va­te hotel guests have arrived.

From 1992

In Novem­ber, the wine mer­chant Wal­ter Amann came to talk and con­gra­tu­la­ted him on the toque, an award in the recent­ly published Gault Mil­lau gour­met gui­de — we did­n’t know any­thing about it, becau­se we weren’t asked if we wan­ted to be tes­ted! We were total­ly sur­pri­sed and very hap­py! After that, many cooks came to eat, e.g. Ernst Huber, at that time cer­tain­ly the most famous top chef in Vorarlberg.

Actual­ly, we have always had many host col­le­agues as guests. It was never that com­pe­ti­ti­ve – Her­bert con­tri­bu­ted a lot to that with his dry humor and his cor­rect­ness. Chefs and hosts are very good guests, we always app­re­cia­ted that!

2005

This year our daugh­ter Hele­ne and our son-in-law Diet­mar took over the crown. We are very gra­teful and hap­py that our life’s work remains in the fami­ly and is deve­lo­ping so well. We haven’t lived in the Kro­ne for a long time, but we’­re still the­re seve­ral times a week and are hap­py to help out here and there.

About coo­king

We tra­ve­led a lot and coll­ec­ted inspi­ra­ti­on every year. We then imple­men­ted or trans­la­ted it at home – with local ingredients.

In 1984 , Edgar Hus­ser from Alsace was on vaca­ti­on in the Kro­ne — he ran the Auber­ge d’Ar­zen­heim, a very good restau­rant. I was then able to spend a week on the “stage” in the kit­chen and lear­ned how to cook fish and also took a lot of other things with me that we did­n’t know before.

We have coll­ec­ted inspi­ra­ti­on over the many years in Tici­no, Alsace, Friu­li, Tusca­ny, Pied­mont, Umbria, Ligu­ria, Cin­que Terre, Rome, Cana­ry Islands, Aus­tra­lia, Thai­land, Sin­ga­po­re, Hong Kong, but also on spa tre­at­ments in Wal­ters­dorf and Rakersdorf.

We were always impres­sed by what was coo­ked on site, the simp­le coun­try cui­sine: ste­wed oni­ons with corn por­ridge, the who­le fish in salt dough or sama fish with pink gar­lic stea­m­ed on the Cana­ry Islands, cod with toma­toes in Luc­ca, who­le fawn roas­ted with herbs in Friu­li, fen­nel salad with oran­ges, lemon ice cream with wild straw­ber­ries in Tusca­ny, sea fish in white wine stock with the first Char­don­nay in Australia, .…

I’m proud of:

That we get along well in the fami­ly – that we are the­re for each other. That we have good suc­ces­sors. That our daugh­ters both go their own way. And of cour­se we are very proud of our four grand­child­ren, who are all won­derful litt­le personalities.

Her­bert and I have always stuck tog­e­ther — if we can do things tog­e­ther, then we can do any­thing! We are both epi­cu­re­ans and crea­ti­ve and have ide­as in very dif­fe­rent ways.

My wish has always been that we are and can remain a good coun­try inn, not a fan­cy hotel. A good coun­try inn whe­re ever­yo­ne feels at home. I don’t like it when you “sift” peo­p­le. We mana­ged that well in our crown time.

Appo­lo­nia, cal­led Plo­ne (1907 to 1980) joins the list of pro­mi­nent people
crown hos­tes­ses. By the way, at her husband’s request, she wore the Bre­gen­zer­wald cos­tu­me year in and year out, even in the sum­mer when she was stre­nuous to work on the lar­ge wood stove.

In 1934 daugh­ter Eri­ka was born. Soon she can be found all over the crown as her mother’s right hand. Even befo­re her brot­her Her­bert, who was three years youn­ger, took over the house, she was the crown land­la­dy for a while.

After the war, busi­ness slow­ly picked up again. On Sun­days, the par­lors fill up for a mor­ning pint. You drink lemo­na­de, bot­t­led beer (the bre­wery only deli­vers bar­rels on high holi­days), wine: Kal­te­rer, Lag­rein Kret­zer, Gum­polds­kirch­ner. War refu­gees from the East lodge on the third flo­or, and now and then the­re is a wed­ding, a fun­e­ral feast.

The first balls take place in 1947/48 : the bet­ter gen­tle­men dri­ve up in sleighs, sta­ble hands unhitch the hor­ses and take care of the hor­ses, peo­p­le dance abo­ve the sta­ble (today the hotel wing), feast in the par­lors: schnit­zel, roast pork, meat­lo­af, sau­sa­ges with sau­er­kraut. At that time, the sup­p­ly of regio­nal pro­ducts was more than a mar­ke­ting slo­gan: it was a neces­sa­ry mat­ter of course.

In the mid- 1950s , the men’s room and the South Tyro­lean room were con­ver­ted into a dining room. In 1952 , the tool shed in the rear part of the Kro­ne was trans­for­med into a hall: the famous Wed­nes­day dance evenings take place here — for years the most important dating event in the Bregenzerwald.

In 1814 , the young man, who was self-employed from an ear­ly age, bought the “Son­ne” inn oppo­si­te, along with the asso­cia­ted farm. In 1820 he acqui­red ano­ther adjoi­ning farm­stead. In 1816 , at the age of 20, he mar­ried Kris­ti­na Hag­spiel, from the Hir­schen inn, who was seven years his seni­or. The­se bold steps, which were unu­sual­ly ear­ly for the time, took place in extre­me­ly dif­fi­cult eco­no­mic times.

From 1816 to the sum­mer of 1818 , extre­me­ly sno­wy and long win­ters, cold and rai­ny spring and sum­mer months had to be endu­red, which led to a gre­at shorta­ge of food, which ulti­m­ate­ly could only be bridged by grain deli­veries from Egypt.

Bet­ween 1817 and 1820 , Kris­ti­na Bech­ter gave birth to five child­ren, three of whom died in infan­cy. Mean­while, her hus­band beca­me a buil­der on a grand sca­le. He rebuilt the “Son­ne” inn and added a dance hall on the first flo­or. The lower part of the house still stands today. First and fore­most, Kon­rad Bech­ter was a far­mer. He set up a flou­ris­hing farm in Hittisau-Rain. Even then, good milk pro­duc­tion was the prio­ri­ty, and Kon­rad Bech­ter was an excel­lent expert when it came to buy­ing and tra­ding catt­le. He was born into a heyday of good milk con­ver­si­on and took advan­ta­ge of this opportunity.

The basis for this was, among other things, the good sales oppor­tu­ni­ties for cheese in the vast area of the Impe­ri­al and Roy­al Monarchy.

Bech­ter was par­ti­cu­lar­ly for­t­u­na­te in acqui­ring shares in the alp from his child­less rela­ti­ves. Bech­ter built lar­ge sta­bles and farm buil­dings on the difficult-to-reach Alps for his far-reaching, gene­rous­ly modern alpi­ne far­ming. On the Alpe Ober­bal­der­schwang, for exam­p­le, Bech­ter tore down the old huts and built a barn for 100 cows. Gra­du­al­ly he beca­me the lar­gest far­mer and owner of the Alps in the enti­re Bregenzerwald.

It was only a mat­ter of time befo­re the suc­cessful far­mer took on a cor­re­spon­ding role in the public life of his com­mu­ni­ty. In 1827 , the peo­p­le of Hit­tis­au elec­ted the young eco­no­mist Kon­rad Bech­ter as head (= mayor); he held this posi­ti­on until his ear­ly death in 1845. Incre­asing catt­le and cheese exports as well as popu­la­ti­on growth in gene­ral neces­si­ta­ted urgent inno­va­tions in transport.

With gre­at zeal, Bech­ter pushed for the con­s­truc­tion of the Gschwend­tobel Bridge over the Suber­sach, through which the Vor­d­erb­re­gen­zer­wald was to be con­nec­ted to the road from Alber­schwen­de to Egg and the Hin­ter­wald. engi­neer Alo­is Negrel­li (who later plan­ned the Suez Canal), who was then a civil engi­neer at the Bre­genz Dis­trict Office (and drew up many valuable plans for Vor­arl­berg), also sub­mit­ted one for the Gschwend­tobel Bridge and Bech­ter eager­ly hel­ped with the rea­liza­ti­on of this urgent pro­ject from 1833–1835 . (This bridge is one of the few remai­ning cover­ed woo­den bridges).

With the same zeal, Bech­ter also sup­port­ed the dis­trict cap­tain Ebner against all resis­tance to the con­s­truc­tion of the Schwarz­ach­to­bel road, which in 1835–1837 brought very valuable reli­ef to the con­nec­tion bet­ween the Rhi­ne Val­ley and the Bre­gen­zer­wald. Bech­ter spo­ke on behalf of the Vor­der­wald com­mu­ni­ties to make 90,000 guil­ders available for the road pro­jects men­tio­ned, for which he was pro­mi­sed that the Müselbach-Lingenau con­nec­tion would also be rea­li­zed after­wards. Howe­ver, this was delay­ed for years.

Ulti­m­ate­ly, the­re are two buil­dings right on the vil­la­ge squa­re that ensu­re Bechter’s las­ting fame. On the one hand, of cour­se, the parish church ( 1843 — 184 5), and direct­ly oppo­si­te the Gast­hof Kro­ne (1838), which Bech­ter had ori­gi­nal­ly inten­ded as the seat of a regio­nal court: one of the many wis­hes of the rest­less gover­nor that did not come true. The church its­elf, tem­po­r­a­ri­ly inau­gu­ra­ted five months after Bechter’s death, had to wait ano­ther 8 years for its completion.

A cost esti­ma­te of 40,000 guil­ders was drawn up for the con­s­truc­tion of the church in 1841, after com­ple­ti­on 60,000 guil­ders are said to have been cal­cu­la­ted. An almost over­whel­ming amount of work was requi­red of the church peo­p­le. Sand and gra­vel had to be scoo­ped up in Suber­sach, a good 2 kilo­me­ters away, and pas­sed on hand to hand in buckets to the con­s­truc­tion site. In addi­ti­on to the eco­no­mic ups­wing, Bech­ter was not spared from per­so­nal and eco­no­mic blows of fate. His wife died in 1835 when the 6 sur­vi­ving child­ren were bet­ween 4 and 18 years old (a total of 15 child­ren were born). At least once bet­ween 1838 and 1841 , foot-and-mouth dise­a­se rava­ged Bechter’s lar­ge live­stock; the cheese trade was pro­hi­bi­ted for reasons of epi­de­mic hygie­ne, the­re were no catt­le mar­kets. In July 1841 a storm raged that kil­led at least 100,000 trees.