In the Austrian Alps, a rustic inn is reborn as a chalet handcrafted from natural materials.
Theyre meant to be worn as you pad around the lodge.
Be at home, general manager Henning Schaub told me and my husband shortly after we arrived.
Eriro, at the foot of the Zugspitze peak in Ehrwald, Austria.Credit:Alex Moling/Courtesy of eriro
And what a home it is.
Though Eriros exterior is classic Alpine chalet, the interior is beautifully modern.
Everything is framed by warm wood, including the huge windows and balconies of the nine guest rooms.
From left: The dining hall; Foraged chanterelles in a pine-needle broth.Alex Moling/Courtesy of eriro
Hand-hewn faucets, also made of wood, resemble tree branches.
Egg-shaped banquettes in the dining room, carved from tree roots, are at once sculptural and cozy.
Artisans dismantled it, salvaging wood from the old structure to panel the ceilings of the new one.
A guest room with a wooden tub.Alex Moling/Courtesy of eriro
That philosophy continues in the restaurant.
Nearly every ingredient is sourced from within a 30-mile radius.
Instead of orange juice, we were offered apple or quince.
Many cheeses are produced in-house.
Even my G&T was made with local gin, garnished with handpicked red currants.
I asked for a pantry tour, and the chefs happily obliged.
One chef smiled and said a local farmer had figured out how to grow some, just for Eriro.
Thats not to say that the cooking is restricted to Austrian dishes.
It was wildly inventive, and deeply delicious.
I found the same attention to detail in the spa.
My masseuse, Andrea Memmersheim, used an oil infused withJohanniskrautSt.
Johns wortthat she had foraged herself.
This is nature, she said.
Every day, its changing.
Every day, how you walk through this water is changing.
Schaub had asked a local woodworker, Christoph Gundolf, to be my teacher.
Gundolf demonstrated how to use a chisel to gently scrape slivers of pine to form petals.
Were avid hikers, and wed hoped to venture farther into the mountains.
But the weather had been unpredictable.
Instead of verdant meadows, the lodge was surrounded by an apron of white.
On our last morning, though, the sun finally emerged, melting the unseasonable snow.
We pulled on hiking boots and trekked uphill from Eriro into the forest.
The air was tranquil, the lakes surface nearly still.
Just one word came to mind:Gemutlichkeit.
