The Best Places to Eat and Do in Germany

Moulded ceilings, chandeliers, and hardwood floors set the scene in this casual fine dining room inside a Renaissance manor hotel, where the name is literally the year the building went up. The kitchen runs a four- or five-course menu alongside à la carte, and the evening opens with aperitifs and amuse-bouches prepared in the foyer before you're shown to your table, which is a lovely bit of theatre for guests who've already dressed for the occasion.

The year "1906" is still carved above the arch at the entrance, a small clue that the building has been around forever and is now something else entirely. Inside, a sleek contemporary restaurant with large windows and an open kitchen serves modern tasting menus, though individual courses are available too. The cooking leans on careful sourcing with clean, current technique, and the short wine list seems to know when to stop.

The floor-to-ceiling windows in the 2020 extension look out over the kind of greenery that makes you forget you drove here. This restaurant inside Hotel Freiwerk serves contemporary, seasonally driven cooking, with Oldenburg duck and locally hunted game appearing regularly on the menu. You can order à la carte or hand the kitchen the wheel with a surprise tasting menu of flexible length. The waitstaff are friendly without being performative about it.

Octopus braised in black beer with ponzu beurre blanc sits on the menu as a house classic, which tells you exactly what kind of cooking to expect: Italian instincts pulled sideways by Asian technique. This fine dining restaurant runs several formats, from a midday set menu to evening tasting and sharing options. The room leans loungey and modern, and a terrace opens up in summer. The wine list rewards a slow read.

The mirrored, graffiti-tagged façade on Kantstraße reads more like a dare than a dinner invitation. Inside, it's a sleek, black-walled Japanese restaurant where The Duc Ngo runs an open kitchen that pulls in a loud, happy crowd most nights. The menu spans sushi and sashimi on one end and sashimi taquitos and yuzu truffle dishes on the other, the kind of range that sounds chaotic on paper but somehow holds together on the plate.

A pavilion in a small park, fitted out with enough glamour to make the garden chairs feel like an occasion. This all-day restaurant runs from a business lunch through daily specials into a full evening menu, with the kitchen comfortable moving between ingredient-led contemporary cooking and old-school classics like Wiener schnitzel. The wine list is broad and well chosen, and the terrace, when the weather cooperates, is the whole point.

A round, glass-paned pavilion that looks like it wandered in from a beach town and decided to stay. This lively modern tapas spot seats guests around a central counter while the chef freestyles through whatever the market brought that morning, folding Latin American, Asian, and Mediterranean ideas together without much apology. The sommelier half of the duo runs the room with genuine ease and always has a wine pairing worth following.

A monastery estate ringed by Odenwald forest, with a vaulted wine cellar that has been doing its job since before the Reformation. The restaurant serves contemporary, farm-forward cooking through à la carte and set menus of up to six courses, all leaning into the seasons. The terrace is the place to be in good weather, and the carriage collection is exactly as charmingly odd as it sounds.

Aged balsamic vinegar lines the shelves and, if you like, you can take a bottle home, which tells you something about how seriously this Italian restaurant takes its pantry. The Jugendstil room is cosy and the service has the unhurried warmth you either love or quietly envy. A four-course chef's menu lets the kitchen make the decisions, and the wine list sneaks in some French rarities alongside the expected Italian bottles.

A timber-paneled dining room in a Swabian market town where the house classic, Zwiebelrostbraten, fried beef and onions in gravy with maultaschen and spaetzle, has apparently earned permanent residency on the menu. This is a traditional regional restaurant with a shaded inner courtyard for warmer months. The kitchen follows the seasons and nods toward wider influences, though the regulars are clearly not here for the global pivot.

An old jukebox in the corner sets the tone at this snug village inn, where a father-and-son kitchen turns out proper Swabian cooking alongside the occasional pan-fried monkfish or wild garlic risotto. The proprietress, a warm Styrian host, runs the front with genuine ease. House-made Maultaschen are the kind of thing regulars come back for, and the place produces its own schnapps, which tells you something about priorities.

Low ceilings, dark wood panelling, and the kind of room that looks like it hasn't needed redecorating since the Thirty Years' War, because it hasn't. This is a full-service restaurant inside a historic Black Forest hotel, serving Baden regional cooking alongside international dishes and a wine list leaning heavily on local bottles. The terrace and the sleeker Bergkristall room offer the same menu for guests who prefer daylight to atmosphere.

A half-timbered tavern on Eltville's main street, the kind where you can see the Molteni stove from the doorway and smell what's on it before you've sat down. The menu is a choose-your-own-fixed-price affair, small dinner or large, with steaks and German cooking built around pork and beef from the family's own farm in the Taunus hills. In summer there's a shaded terrace out back. One bill for the whole table, no splitting.

Fermentation jars line the shelves of this spare, earthy dining room inside the Lokdepot development, doubling as decor and as a hint at how the kitchen thinks. It's a small modern sharing-plates restaurant with a mezzanine kitchen, a communal table, and a bar counter, so you're eating close to strangers in the best neighborhood-restaurant way. The seasonal menu leans into preservation and process, and the team will happily talk you through the drinks list.

A casual seasonal restaurant built into the old covered market hall, with an open kitchen visible from the gallery above and a terrace facing the square when the weather turns. Lunch runs to a tight, affordable menu; evenings shift into something more considered, with à la carte or a surprise menu. The room itself does a lot of the work, and the chef leans into the history of the site without making a fuss about it.

Brick-oven pizza and a parmesan wheel rolled out in winter for spaghetti tossed tableside: this Italian restaurant inside Hotel Bei Schumann plays it warmly and straightforwardly. The open kitchen turns out antipasti, pasta, fish, and meat alongside the pizzas, and Italian music keeps the room feeling unapologetically cozy. In summer, the terrace looks out over the Seewunderbar, which is exactly as inviting as it sounds.

The terrace looks out over the lake, which makes the summer wait for a table feel less painful. This is an upscale seasonal restaurant in a classic Black Forest inn, all regional charm and proper tablecloths, drawing on the lake, the garden, and the surrounding forest for its menu. A multi-course tasting menu with wine pairings runs alongside the regular carte, though lunch keeps things simpler. The kind of room where you order more than you planned.

An old-school Italian restaurant in Cologne's city center, Alfredo has been in the Carturan family for two generations, and the pappardelle with braised duck is the dish regulars order without looking down. The chef-patron walks the room himself and talks you through the menu, which is either charming or slightly pressuring depending on your mood. On Friday evenings he closes out a six-course dinner by singing. The menu is straightforward; the finale is not.

A restored old mill beside Schloss Alme, this rustic restaurant in the Sauerland countryside frames its menu as a meeting of two regions: local seasonal cooking from the surrounding hills and the chef's native Austrian classics. Trout from the local stream and Viennese breaded chicken share the same card, which is a more coherent idea than it sounds. The terrace is the move on a clear day, and there are rooms if you'd rather not drive home.

The dining room moves between wood-paneled Alpine warmth and cleaner modern lines, which lets the kitchen split the difference too: seasonal regional cooking with a pull toward the Mediterranean. It's a proper sit-down restaurant in the Allgäu hills, cordial and unhurried, where you can order à la carte or build your own set menu from three or four courses. A thoughtful wine list keeps pace.

A seat opposite the Kirche St Georg in Dinkelsbühl's old town puts you about as deep into medieval Bavaria as you can get without a time machine. This is a proper sit-down German restaurant, running seasonal set menus of four, six courses with a vegetarian route alongside the à la carte. The kitchen leans hard on regional sourcing, and the service is the kind of attentive-but-not-hovering that makes a long dinner feel easy.

Chestnut trees shade the terrace at this old Bavarian inn on Grünwald's market square, and the dining room manages to be both rustic and unfussy at once. The kitchen leans on organic and local sourcing, letting the season do the heavy lifting on a menu that shifts with what's around. It's the kind of place where the daily specials are worth asking about, and where the room feels like it's been feeding people for a very long time.

A half-timbered building on a pedestrian street in Winnenden that the chef has turned into a creative, farm-to-table restaurant with a terrace spilling out front. The room is modern and spare inside, which lets the cooking do the talking. There's a full tasting menu for the ambitious and a shorter à la carte for everyone else, with a pared-down offer at lunch. The team also runs a food truck available for private events, because apparently one venue wasn't enough.

Dark wood panelling and custom-made local crockery set the tone at this hotel dining room in the heart of Bremen's old town. The menu runs classic German comfort, schnitzel included, alongside more contemporary plates. In good weather the courtyard garden is the place to be; in winter, an Alpine-style hut appears instead, which is either charming or audacious depending on your mood. The Rathaus and the Weser are both a short walk away.

A seafood restaurant right on the Elbe where the terrace faces the container port, so you spend half the meal watching massive ships slide past at improbably close range. The menu leans modern and international, moving through fish and shellfish with Asian and grilled notes alongside meat dishes and vegan options. The vibe is casual and waterfront-breezy, the crowd dressed for neither occasion nor sloppiness.

A fourth-generation family restaurant in a cheerful, modernized old building that still feels like it has bones worth keeping. The team has been running Westphalian food with international inflections for long enough that ordering without the menu is considered normal behavior for the regulars. The fish and shellfish soup with aioli and Parmesan is the kind of dish that becomes a habit. A generous terrace opens things up in summer.

A villa on the Main River with a terrace that earns its keep in summer, this Italian restaurant in Kelsterbach runs two modes under one roof: a casual trattoria side with house-made pasta, pizza, and fresh fish, and a more polished dining room for when the occasion calls for it. The kitchen covers a lot of ground without breaking a sweat, and the service lands on the right side of attentive.

The Turmberg perch is the first thing you notice: panoramic views sweep from Karlsruhe across the Rhine Valley to the Vosges, which means the seating tip (sit side by side so everyone faces the same direction) is less quirky advice than practical wisdom. The restaurant runs a tapas-style format, smaller plates built for sharing, with cooking that mixes regional ingredients and Mediterranean instincts. A food truck in the courtyard handles the daytime crowd.

The terrace hangs right over the Rhine, and the angling club below it is not a metaphor. This is a proper sit-down seafood restaurant tucked behind an unremarkable facade on the riverbank, where the kitchen runs fish through its paces with quiet, careful cooking. Evenings bring two set menus alongside à la carte; weekday lunches are notably easy on the wallet. The wine list is all German, and the selection runs deeper than you'd expect.

Floor-to-ceiling windows flood the dining room with light, and the high ceilings give the whole room a quiet grandeur that the Hotel Elephant wears well. AnnA is a contemporary restaurant with a regional lean, serving creative cooking at lunch à la carte and a set menu in the evenings, vegetarian version included. A terrace opens in summer, and Weimar's old town is right outside the door if you need to walk off dessert.

A short walk from the Scharmützelsee spa gardens, this wine bar-bistro hybrid earns its name twice: lakeside location and the chef's own initials. The room is relaxed and friendly, the kind of place where a five-course modern menu feels like a casual evening rather than an occasion. Sunday lunch runs the same menu, which is the sort of detail that rewards planning ahead. The terrace, the quiet side street, the leafy surrounds: the setting does a lot of work before the food arrives.

A centuries-old country manor just south of the city center, Asam Schlössl is a Bavarian restaurant where roast pork with cracklings and dark beer jus shares the menu with barbecued octopus and steaks finished on a Big Green Egg. The garden is the kind of secluded that makes you forget Munich exists. An Irish chef running a room this convincingly Bavarian is either a paradox or a proof of concept, depending on your mood.

White cross vaults on stone columns set the scene at this classic French restaurant tucked inside a courtyard off Freinsheim's old town wall. The chef works a seasonal, fine-ingredient playbook, with a three-to-six-course menu alongside à la carte options and a vegetarian alternative. A lunchtime set menu keeps things accessible. The wine list is wide and well chosen, which in this region is less a bonus than a baseline expectation.

Perched inside a hilltop castle with views over Ravensburg, this modern restaurant earns its reservation lead time from well beyond the local postcode. The menu swings between a vegan option and an omnivore tasting format, with courses stackable anywhere from three to seven, which is either liberating or mildly paralysing depending on your personality. The cooking follows seasonal and international cues, and there's a dedicated cigar list for after.

The building used to be a fish market beside an abattoir, which explains both the old brick bones and why seafood still runs the show. A mid-range restaurant in Dreimühlenviertel, Atlantik keeps the menu honest: whole turbot or char for the table, beef if someone insists, and a chocolate cake that earns the standing it has. The wine list is long enough to take seriously.

The wood-panelled ceiling and a traditional tiled stove survived the renovation of Hotel Auerhahn, which gives this fine dining room a warmth that modernised spaces usually scrub away. The kitchen leans into the Black Forest region's seasonal larder, turning local produce into carefully composed plates that land somewhere between classic technique and quiet ambition. Non-guests should book the tasting menu ahead; the alcove seating and unhurried service make it easy to lose an evening here.

Floor-to-ceiling windows look out over the Neckar, so river traffic doubles as free entertainment while you wait for the braised local venison. This is a farm-to-table restaurant run by a couple who have been at it for a long time, the kitchen turning seasonal and regional ingredients into careful, unhurried plates. Book ahead, sometimes well ahead, which tells you something about how the room fills up on its own.

A centuries-old half-timbered house in Ladenburg's Old Town sets the scene for this French-leaning restaurant where the cooking follows the seasons and a blackboard of daily specials keeps things honest. The menu moves between classic French technique and quieter nods to what's current, paired with wines the staff seem to know well. The chef comes out to say hello, which in a room this cosy feels less like theater and more like Tuesday.

A little house next to Gundelfingen's railway station makes an unlikely home for an old-school institution, yet here the Falconnier family has been doing French and Mediterranean cooking long enough that the watercolors on the walls are by the owners' daughter. It's a proper sit-down restaurant, unfussy and warm, with a terrace that fills up in summer. Fish runs through the menu, from salmon carpaccio to grilled sea bass, and the braised beef cheeks draw the meat contingent.

The courtyard terrace out back fills up fast on warm evenings, which tells you most of what you need to know about Bar Mural. It's a loud, lively bar and small-plates spot where the menu rotates often and the format rewards sharing. A four-course chef's menu keeps things affordable if you hand over the wheel. The staff know the wine list well and seem happy to talk you through it without any ceremony.

The rotating wine dispenser holds over 50 bottles, and you load a prepaid card to pour your own tasters, half glasses, or full pours. This restaurant and wine bar at Bremen's Europahafenkopf leans into that format fully, pairing a seasonal menu of beef tartare, skrei, and braised Ibérico pork cheeks with genuinely knowledgeable wine guidance from staff who seem pleased you asked. A tram ride from the centre, but that's what makes it a destination rather than a detour.

The name does not lie: tartare in several forms, meat, fish, and vegetarian, anchors the menu at this brasserie tucked into the ground floor of a heritage-protected chancery near Marienplatz. The room has the warm, unhurried feel of a good European brasserie, and when the weather cooperates, the sheltered courtyard pulls everyone outside. The à la carte menu is built for sharing, and the wine list is long enough that asking for help is genuinely the right call.

House-made pasta is the main event at this lively Italian restaurant and bar on Auguststrasse, where the room nods to the trattoria tradition without taking itself too seriously. The menu runs either à la carte or a surprise tasting format, and the kitchen leans into technique without losing the rustic warmth that makes the cooking feel Italian rather than merely inspired by it. The crowd tends toward the kind of people who know to skip the first page of the wine list.

The dining room sits inside an old bridge structure on the grounds of an events venue, which sounds odd until you see the pond and fountain through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Baron.ess runs a modern set-menu format built around seasonal produce, with vegetables doing most of the heavy lifting and the kitchen presenting the same ingredient in several forms across a course. The chefs come out to walk you through it, and the Franconian natural wine list fits the mood.

A sushi restaurant near the pedestrian zone, Basho-An keeps its dining room stripped back in the Japanese mode, with a few seats at the counter for those who like to watch. The lunch set draws a faithful midday crowd, while dinner stretches into a fuller menu, vegetarian dishes included. Sake sits alongside a short regional wine list. Book ahead or you'll be eating somewhere else.

The chef here doubles as a fifth-generation winegrower, so the wine list has a personal edge most fine dining rooms can only fake. Becker's is a sleek, minimalist restaurant, all leather shell chairs and grey panelling, where a four-to-six course modern menu plays out in near-library quiet. His wife handles the sommelier side and oversees the vineyard, which means the pairing conversation at your table is unusually well-informed.

A French bistro in a handsome old corner building, with high ceilings, warm wood panels, and arched windows that make the room feel like it has been doing this for a very long time. Cosy booths, a bar, and a street terrace in summer round it out. The menu runs oysters, beef tartare, serious steaks, and fine fish, with a shorter lunch menu that keeps things honest without making you feel punished for showing up on a Tuesday.

A certified organic restaurant where the commitment runs deeper than the menu, from the reclaimed-wood interior to the staff uniforms. The kitchen handles seasonal vegetarian, vegan, fish, and meat dishes with equal care, and the wine list leans German, Austrian, and South Tyrolean, most of it organic or biodynamic. The covered terrace is the room to book. Quietly earnest without being preachy, which in this category is its own kind of trick.

A country restaurant in the Spessart hills where the trout comes from the local brook and the beef grazes nearby pastures, so the menu is essentially a map of the surrounding few kilometers. The Behl family runs the whole operation, dining room to distillery, and the shaded courtyard terrace softens any impulse to eat indoors. On certain evenings they pair a set menu with spirits produced on site, which is a solid reason to stay the night.

A narrow lane in the Altenhain district leads to chef Isabelle Pering's creative set-menu restaurant, where the room is calm and clean-lined and dishes are named in three-word shorthand, carrot and hay alongside the beef, tomato and pimento with the asparagus. Most ingredients are regional and largely organic, and the wine list runs to good-by-the-glass options plus alcohol-free pairings. A terrace out back when the weather agrees.

A fine-dining room inside Gütersloh's Parkhotel, where classical French technique quietly acquires Japanese inflections somewhere between the teardrop peas and the koji beurre blanc. The kitchen offers multi-course set menus, and the vegetarian path is available if you book ahead and ask nicely. Service is polished without hovering. The Michelin Guide has it listed, which tends to bring guests who have done their research and dress accordingly.

A modern restaurant tucked inside a pretty half-timbered building, Benders pulls off the neat trick of feeling genuinely relaxed while the kitchen runs through French, Mediterranean, regional, and occasional Asian ideas all on the same plate. The terrace is nicely landscaped, the staff know what they're doing, and the menu swings from monkfish with dashi beurre blanc to Wiener schnitzel on Thursdays, because some traditions deserve their own night.

Vaulted ceiling, two-person kitchen, herbs from their own organic garden: this cozy Bavarian inn runs on a scale small enough that you notice when the couple behind it are managing everything themselves, which they are. Maximilian and Roxana Kühbeck cook and serve, so the pacing is unhurried whether you want it to be or not. Seasonal set menus, one vegetarian, lean on foraged and hyper-local ingredients, with kitchen-table seats for those who want to watch it all happen.

A family-run country restaurant in the hills above Bühlertal, where the chickens in the garden occasionally end up on the menu, which feels honest rather than alarming. The kitchen leans into Baden tradition without being stuck there, and the wine list runs deeper than you'd expect for a hillside inn. The dining room extension gives regional materials a modern edit, and the valley views do a lot of the heavy lifting.

A family-run mountain restaurant perched above 1,000 meters in the Black Forest, with valley views that make it hard to look at your plate. The chef hunts his own game, which goes some way toward explaining the menu's honest, grounded character. Country cooking shades into French and Mediterranean influences depending on the season, with a daily changing set menu each evening alongside a rotating seasonal one. Exactly the kind of place you find by accident and then tell everyone about.

At the foot of the hill below Andechs abbey, this is a family-run restaurant where the father works the room and his son cooks with a quiet confidence that balances Bavarian pantry staples against broader influences. The setting is modern and tidy rather than rustic, the kind of place that surprises you a little after the drive up. Rooms are available if the abbey pilgrimage turns into a longer outing.

The open kitchen sits behind the counter, and the chefs inside it cook like someone's grandmother is watching. Assaf Granit's casual Jerusalem-meets-Berlin restaurant serves family recipes recast with a modern Berlin sensibility, and the bread with tahini and tomatoes that arrives before anything else tends to derail whatever restraint you walked in with. The room runs loud and colorful, and the energy coming off the pass is hard not to catch.

The stucco work alone would justify a visit: Richard Bieber's ornate plasterwork covers the ceiling of this intimate, heritage-listed Berlin dining room in Wilmersdorf. It's a set-menu restaurant, two options per night, one vegetarian, built around herbs and spices grown out back. Modern European cooking, a warm room with a devoted front-of-house team, and a garden that supplies the kitchen. The kind of place that makes you feel like you stumbled onto something the city forgot to overhype.

The terrace looks over a park, which is a fine argument for arriving hungry. This bistro inside Parkhotel Quellenhof serves classic French cooking with Mediterranean touches in a sleek, pared-back dining room that sits in deliberate contrast to the hotel's ornate marble lobby. Lunch runs shorter than dinner, and there's an afternoon snack menu for those who pace themselves. The crowd tends toward the quietly well-heeled.

A classic French bistro where the name is the only dramatic thing about it. Beef tartare, oysters, and chocolate soufflé anchor a menu that reads like a Parisian daydream, and a "Toi & Moi" format lets you build your own three-course dinner. The mood is relaxed and unpretentious, with a pavement terrace in summer for anyone who likes their savoir-vivre with fresh air. Come by transit, though; parking nearby is its own adventure.

A converted coach house on a grand estate, with the listed stable architecture still visible in the bones of the room. This is a relaxed bistro where the open kitchen sends out beef Bourguignon alongside mushroom risotto and flambéed salmon sashimi, the menu drifting between traditional and international without much fuss about it. The courtyard terrace, framed by old trees and a castle, makes a strong argument for arriving in summer.

The name translates as "grandma and grandchild," which is the whole thesis: Franconian recipes your grandmother knew, nudged into something a little more now. This bistro inside an old Posthotel runs on country cooking with a contemporary edit, offering Franconian tapas, a signature menu, or a duck menu. The bouillabaisse made with local fish and the apricot dumplings both get name-checked for good reason. The room is relaxed enough that nobody's performing.

The neo-Baroque villa just north of the Palmengarten only opens its bistro at lunch, which feels like a secret worth keeping. It's a relaxed, elegant room for regional and international cooking with a seasonal lean, running a set menu alongside à la carte. The front-of-house team takes wine seriously, with a champagne list that outpaces the surroundings. When the weather holds, the terrace is where you want to be.

Tables on the pedestrian terrace fill up fast at this sleek, contemporary dining room a short walk from the Viktualienmarkt. Classic European cooking with a modern lean is the idea, think braised veal shoulder or sole shared between two. The room inside is calm and well-dressed, with art on the walls that actually earns its place. A solid choice when Munich asks you to sit down properly for dinner.

A two-person operation tucked into a quiet side street near KaDeWe, Bob & Thoms runs a short fixed-menu dinner of classically rooted Modern French cooking with very few ingredients per plate. The room is minimalist with photographs of Berlin and New York on the walls, and seats are scarce enough that booking ahead is less a suggestion than a requirement. A small terrace opens in summer.

The glazed facade puts the Baltic Sea more or less inside the dining room, but everyone ends up on the terrace anyway. This restaurant at the Weissenhaus resort serves international and Mediterranean cooking, lighter at lunch and more composed in the evening. It's the kind of place where the water does half the work, and the kitchen seems comfortable letting it.

The Josper grill runs hot in this HafenCity steakhouse and grill, turning out rib-eye and porterhouse while boats drift past the terrace outside. You can sit in the cozy "Boot" dining room and watch the open kitchen, or drift toward the bar and watch the marina instead. Early dinner hours make it a natural stop before a concert at the Elbphilharmonie, which is exactly the kind of crowd you'll find working through the sauces menu.

The terrace on the first floor looks out over the pedestrian zone, and on a warm evening it's the reason tables go fast. This is Tim Raue's French brasserie, part of his Colette mini-chain, where the menu lets you order à la carte or build your own four-course run, vegan if you like. Beef Wellington for two anchors the classics side while seasonal plates keep things moving. Constance gets a bit of the Berlin blueprint.

A ceramic piece by Angelika Maria Stiegler catches your eye before the open kitchen does, which is a good trick for a hotel brasserie. This is the dining room of the Rosewood Munich, doing Alpine-inflected fare in a chic, unhurried space, with Wiener schnitzel as a permanent fixture and a lunch menu that changes daily. The Theatinerstraße is steps away, so the after-shopping crowd fills the room at noon.

A glass-paned pavilion perched at Burg Schwarzenstein, this chic brasserie pairs a sweeping Rhine Valley view with French bistro cooking that leans into the classics: sole meunière, île flottante, oysters if the mood strikes. The wine list circles back to German and French labels, which feels right given the address. The terrace makes a strong case for lingering well past the point of necessity.

The terrace faces the Chiemgau Alps, which is reason enough to time your visit for a clear afternoon. Brasserie Tafern is the more relaxed dining room inside Boutique Hotel Residenz Winkler, a brasserie-style alternative to the formal fine dining upstairs. The kitchen runs classic and Mediterranean cooking with a light touch, and the à la carte menu is backed by seasonal daily specials. It opens at three, noon on Sundays, so plan accordingly.

The beechwood grill in the center of the room is doing most of the talking at this old stone sausage house on Marktplatz. Nuremberg's famous Rostbratwürste have been made fresh each morning in the on-site butchery and served here for longer than anyone can reasonably imagine, with sauerkraut and potato salad as the only logical companions. A draught beer is essentially non-negotiable. The terrace fills fast in summer, which tells you everything about the locals' priorities.

The restaurant keeps its own herd of Pinzgau cattle and a house hunter for the game, which tells you most of what you need to know. This is a traditional Bavarian inn attached to the family brewery that's been here forever, all dark wood and warm light, with a summer terrace out back that earns its reputation. Ayinger beers anchor the drinks menu, and the regional cooking follows the seasons closely.