An evening of freshwater fish, thoughtful pairings and contemporary Austrian cooking during Chef Lukas Nagl’s guest appearance.
By Sixto Carreon
A small piece of trout sitting on a potato base was an inviting introduction to my Austrian dinner at 665°F, Andaz Singapore. With its vivid orange colour, curled green garnish and neat proportions, the opening bite gave me something to consider before the main courses had even begun: how a familiar presentation can take on a different identity through its ingredients.
I was there for Austrian Gourmet Week, with a menu by Chef Lukas Nagl of Restaurant Bootshaus. His takeover at 665°F took place on 31 October and 1 November 2026, bringing his contemporary approach to Austrian cooking to Singapore. Event details.
Andaz Singapore is also where I work as a chef, which gives an evening like this a personal connection. Sitting down to experience another kitchen’s menu offers a different perspective on the work we do every day. There is time to look closely at a plate, follow the progression of the courses and consider the choices behind each combination.
Nagl’s home restaurant, Bootshaus, is in Traunkirchen on Lake Traunsee, in Austria’s Salzkammergut region. It holds one Michelin star and a Michelin Green Star. Freshwater fish, regional produce, fermentation and Japanese influences are part of the approach described by the restaurant and the Michelin Guide. That background helped put the evening’s menu into context. Bootshaus · Michelin Guide.
The Austrian potato nigiri with dry-aged trout made that meeting of influences especially clear. The recognisable nigiri form was reworked around potato and trout. Presented on a green leaf, it was compact and carefully arranged, with the fish remaining the visual focus.
The opening selection also included cucumber horseradish ice cream, listed with trout roe, buttermilk and camelina. It was an unusual combination to encounter at the beginning of dinner. As a menu idea, it placed a frozen preparation in a savoury setting and brought together ingredients that invited closer attention.
Presentation played its part from these first moments. One small rolled bite stood on an illuminated, pebble-like support. Against the marble tabletop and warm copper-coloured lamp, it gave the opening dishes a playful quality. The scale remained intimate: small portions with enough detail to make me pause and look.
Sourdough followed with alpine butter and a potato smear “cheese,” as it was described on the menu. The round, flour-dusted loaf arrived in a sculptural white dish, with the accompaniments served separately. Bread had its own place in the experience, continuing the menu’s attention to potatoes and dairy.
The first main course brought German Gold tomato together with butternut, goat’s cheese and lovage. Its orange folds rose above a pale base, surrounded by a deep green sauce. The colours were striking, and the arrangement gave the vegetables a strong presence at the table.
For me, this is an interesting part of menu writing: giving a vegetable course enough character to establish the direction of a meal. Here, the combination invited attention to the relationship between the produce, cheese and herb, with each named ingredient contributing to the idea of the dish.
Freshwater fish then took a central role through two consecutive courses. Smoked alpine char was paired with whey, sorrel and potato. A pale sauce surrounded the fish, while an upright garnish added height to the presentation. The ingredient list kept the dairy and potato themes running through the meal.
Pike perch followed with green string beans, peach and hazelnut. The fish sat prominently at the centre, with slices of peach and green vegetables around it. Including fruit in this savoury course was a detail I found particularly interesting from a chef’s perspective. It opened up a different set of pairing possibilities from the char that came before it.
Seeing two freshwater fish courses in the same menu also gave the dinner a clear point of focus. Each had its own supporting ingredients and presentation. Together, they made the connection to Nagl’s cooking at Bootshaus easier to understand.
The saddle of lamb moved the meal into its final savoury course, accompanied by blackcurrant, mustard and romaine salad. The presentation showed a browned exterior and pink centre, with the greens arranged alongside. After the fish, it introduced a more substantial-looking plate while keeping fruit and vegetables involved in the composition.
Dessert returned to a lighter visual palette. Wild strawberry was paired with elderflower, spruce and rhubarb, presented as a white mound topped with small red berries and green leaves. The branching edges of the white serving dish echoed the sculptural tableware used earlier in the meal.
The dessert’s ingredient list was particularly evocative. Berries, flowers, spruce and rhubarb carried the menu’s interest in landscape through to its conclusion. It was a thoughtful way to finish a dinner whose identity had been established through its ingredients from the first bite.
The petits fours continued the sense of play: a red, sugar-coated sweet on an illuminated support, with a dark, glossy confection beside it. Even these final small pieces had been given a distinct presentation.
The photographs with the visiting culinary team at the kitchen counter added another personal memory to the evening. The plates were only one part of what I wanted to remember; the people preparing them belonged in the story too.
What I take from this dinner is the value of a menu with a clear sense of place. Across the courses, certain ingredients and ideas kept returning, giving the evening continuity. For a chef, that is useful inspiration: there is much to learn from how another kitchen chooses its ingredients, develops its combinations and carries those choices through an entire meal.
My Austrian evening at 665°F offered that opportunity in a setting already close to me. Thank you to the visiting chefs and the Andaz Singapore team for the dinner and the chance to experience this expression of Austrian cooking.
Always Cook with Heart. Always!
