Over the course of his long career as a Michelin starred chef, he’s cooked delicious food all over the world for politicians, Formula 1 stars, royalty and billionaires. Egon is convinced that “if you’ve seen and experienced everything there is to see and do, you return to the perfection of the simple things in life.”
In this vein, the “tinkerer and magician” from the Sarentino valley – a moniker given to him by cooking critics of the Gault Millau guide when praising his creations as “very astutely staged works of art” – has been in pursuit of the perfect Knödel dumplings for years and years. And although his personal library is packed with cooking books, more than 3,000 to be precise, he’s focused his research on recipes handed down from one generation to the next by speaking to the elderly who still have the knowledge of those recipes. The father of three, who never wanted to be anything other than a chef, tells us lovingly how “my grandparents explain to me how they grab a ‘pinch’ of this and a ‘dash’ of that. This is what intuitive cooking means. They also know how draughts and the weather can play a key role when cooking dumplings.” His childhood dream of becoming a chef was never about collecting stars and toques but to cook and eat together.
For centuries, the Fragsburg has been strongly anchored in stone and rock and has always given the impression of swaying gently above the treetops; similarly, our cooking concept is deeply rooted in native soil and the South Tyrolean tradition yet enriched with Italian sensuality.