Three Stars for Germany—
Well Worth the Trip

(Fine Dining) A char from the Chiemgau region is picked up daily by the chef himself from the fish farmer, topped with nasturtium leaves and freshly grated horseradish, and served with crisp sweet peas, sautéed chanterelles, and a yeast sauce made from caramelized butter, which, thanks to anise, cilantro, and fennel seeds, evokes the aroma of fresh bread, something we all know is very important to Germans. Sigl puts it this way: “Basically, it’s fish with sauce. An intuitive dish where every ingredient is recognizable as such, and you don’t have to think too hard about it.” This isn’t coming from the owner of a roadside diner, but from one of the 161 best chefs in the world. There are many restaurant rankings, from The World’s 50 Best Restaurants to Opinionated about Dining and Gault & Millau, but none enjoys the same global prestige as that red guide first published in 1900 and named after a tire manufacturer. Unsurprisingly, the country with the most Michelin-starred restaurants is France, where the guide was founded, followed by Italy and Japan, with Germany in fourth place, a country that’s better known for its cars than its culinary flavors and frugality than generosity and whose politicians have a penchant for potato soup and currywurst. This is a clear-cut case for Sigl: “We’re much better than our reputation.”

The Chiemgau region in Upper Bavaria is a tourist’s dream come true and boasts fairytale castles, mountain panoramas, and beer gardens with pretzels and wheat beer. Those who prefer something more sophisticated should head to Grassau, located a few miles south of Lake Chiemsee. There, at the Das Achental Golf and Wellness Hotel, you’ll find the restaurant Es:senz, whose gray elegance is skillfully countered by a rustic wooden ceiling and the service team’s traditional designer costumes. Since its opening in 2021, Sigl, who is a Bavarian by choice with Turkish roots and whose initials give the restaurant its name, has been cooking here, creating flavor-focused haute cuisine that always prioritizes taste over presentation. The current menu features a Mon Chérie praline made with duck liver, cherries, and sourdough, as well as Lake Chiemsee whitefish with anise jelly, along with Balfegó tuna and Breton red mullet. “I don’t want my guests to have to Google every other ingredient in a dish. Besides, the focus should be on the flavor, and above all, guests should have a wonderful, enjoyable evening.”

Sigl was born in 1985 as the youngest of seven siblings in Hatay, southern Turkey, and grew up in Cologne, a city whose specialties include a top-fermented, full-bodied beer and Kölsche Kaviar—blood sausage with onions. He completed his culinary training at a Michelin-starred restaurant, followed by stints at top-tier establishments such as the Residenz Heinz Winkler and Les Deux, before settling in the Chiemgau region. He had already earned two stars in Munich; now he has three—an honor currently bestowed on only 11 other German chefs besides him. “If you cook exclusively for guides and reviews, you can easily lose your own sense of direction. It’s more important to find and understand your own personal style. Ambition, consistency, passion, and quality are the decisive factors for long-term success—in any industry. If you’re cooking for the Michelin Guide, you’re doing something wrong; instead, you have to find yourself and know what your guests want. In my opinion, passion and quality automatically lead to success,” explains Sigl.

Compared to other top culinary scenes, such as those in Spain or France, German cuisine often seems less expressive, but more precise and understated. Flavors are not “overlaid” but rather layered and clearly brought out. So, whether German Michelin-starred cuisine provides too little inspiration is, according to Sigl, who sports black hair and full black beard, a question that cannot be answered in general terms. “What’s striking, however, is that in many restaurants, cooking is increasingly focused on photogenic appeal; the main thing is that it looks good on Instagram. For me, on the other hand, taste takes priority. A dish must convey warmth, clarity, and a sense of well-being; only then does the presentation follow.”

Diversity as a strength
In 1966, the Michelin Guide first turned its attention to Germany, following the principle that remains in effect to this day. One star: cuisine full of finesse, worth a stop; two stars: top-class cuisine, worth a detour; three stars: unique cuisine, worth a trip. Eckart Witzigmann was the first to receive the highest distinction in 1980 for his Munich restaurant Aubergine. He was followed by Harald Wohlfahrt of the Schwarzwaldstube in Baiersbronn and by Heinz Winkler, who hailed from a South Tyrolean farm and where Sigl also worked.

And today? There’s Munich’s Tohru Nakamura, who pays homage to his Japanese roots with dishes like Koshihikari rice with eel, beurre blanc, and caviar, and Christian Bau, whose Paris–Tokyo menu is also dedicated to a love of Japan, featuring yellowfin mackerel sashimi and ikejime sea bass. His Berlin colleague Marco Müller is also passionate about fish, though he focuses on those from local waters; even the often-disdained carp finds its way onto the plates at Rutz in its dry-aged form. Kevin Fehling calls his crossover menu shaped by Oriental, Asian, and South American influences “The Gateway to the World”; it is served at a curved wooden counter—The Table—in Hamburg’s HafenCity. Right next door, at the Hotel Vier Jahreszeiten, Christoph Rüffer focuses on French classics in the form of rich sauces and dishes such as turbot with champagne sauce and mojo verde. Torsten Michel, who works at the Schwarzwaldstube in the Hotel Traube Tonbach, also has a penchant for haute cuisine—think hand-picked king crab meat with shellfish jelly—though with modern influences and a regional twist. A few miles away, the Bareiss also has a distinctly Francophile atmosphere; at the end of the menu designed by Claus-Peter Lumpp, a cheese and dessert cart even rolls out to guests, and at the Waldhotel Sonnora, Clemens Rambichler carries on the legacy of Helmut Thieltge with his own creations, but also his mentor’s classic dish: a beef tartare tart draped over Kartoffelrösti and topped with caviar. By now, it should be clear that what is often perceived as boring German haute cuisine is characterized more than anything by diversity.

It defies categorization
Hartwig shares this view. His restaurant is named after him and received the highest rating from the Michelin Guide right off the bat shortly after opening in 2022. “In other countries, three-starred Michelin restaurants are often deceptively similar, quite unlike here in Germany. Northern Germany has a Scandinavian influence, with beach herbs and fish from the North Sea; in central Germany, we have specialties like Handkäs mit Musik and Rhenish Sauerbraten; southern Germany loves hearty fare and offal, and my home state of Lower Saxony is known for asparagus.” It’s not only the ingredients but also the history that explains why the cuisine of this country of 80 million people is so difficult to generalize. After all, it has always been a land of many states, trade relationships, and regional peculiarities, not to mention the fact that it has been shaped by foreign influences through guest workers. “I’m a big advocate of German DNA,” explains the 43-year-old with short blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard. “We benefit from the best freshwater fish, white asparagus, and strawberries, and we also benefit from virtues like diligence and an engineering mindset, as well as an excellent educational system.”

According to him, German haute cuisine also enjoys a good reputation internationally. He finds the accusation of boredom absurd: “I cordially invite you to dine at Jan’s.” He’s currently on a train headed to this year’s German Michelin Star Gala in Frankfurt am Main, which is why the phone connection keeps cutting out. What he doesn’t know yet is that one of his colleagues will be awarded the highest honor in just a few hours: Daniel Schimkowitsch from L.A. Jordan in Deidesheim, Rhineland-Palatinate.

Potential for change
Despite its record number of 339 Michelin-starred restaurants, Germany is not really on the radar of “destination diners” which is also due to a lack of initiative. A few countries show how things can be done differently. Denmark with its New Nordic Cuisine is, not least, a government-sponsored initiative that goes to great lengths to attract journalists, influencers, and foodies to the country; the Basque Country, whose chefs present a much more unified profile; and, of course, France, where haute cuisine is not a sign of snobbery but rather embodies quality of life. What needs to change? Cuisine needs to be seen as a tourism criterion. There needs to be more financial support and conceptual backing from policymakers and better networking among chefs, which Hartwig and Sigl, who know and respect each other not just because of their geographical proximity, would welcome, although there’s simply no time for something like a regular get-together.

“Laboratory of Love” is written above the entrance to Hartwig’s restaurant kitchen. He named one of his signature dishes that Sigl admires “Sea Urchin Louise” after Sigl’s two-year-old daughter. A few weeks ago, Sigl became a father for the second time. Balancing family and work is particularly difficult in the restaurant industry, even more so for mothers than for fathers, which is one reason why there are so few top female chefs, a fact the man from Lower Saxony frowns upon. The closest examples in his home state are Rosina Ostler at Alois in Munich and Douce Steiner at Hirschen in Swabia; both hold two stars. “It’s bullshit that women can’t achieve culinary excellence,” asserts Hartwig, who had already been cooking at the highest level at the Bayerischer Hof before going into business for himself. “They’re more empathetic, more sensitive. I appreciate working with them.” He also sees room for change in other areas. “There should be a training course on healthy eating, and I’d also like to see more government backing.” It’s unthinkable that the chancellor would dine at his restaurant. “People would say he’s wasting our tax money on food and drink.” As if that weren’t enough, Federal President Frank-Walter Steinmeier presents kebab skewers as a guest gift; foreign guests of honor are served matjes herring sandwiches, and Bavarian Minister-President Markus Söder poses with a Nuremberg grilled sausage.

Nevertheless, Hartwig believes Germans have a better palate than their reputation suggests, at least those who treat themselves to his nearly €400 menu. “I can’t reach the skeptics at all, because they think they’ll still be hungry afterward. But I don’t want to change anyone’s mind. I just want to highlight the importance of a well-set table. And to be perfectly honest, I also enjoy a fried egg on chive bread.”

When asked which of his colleague’s dishes he’s craving the most right now, the 43-year-old names another influential gourmet destination: the Aqua in Wolfsburg, which shaped Germany’s top-tier gastronomy for a quarter of a century before closing its doors for good at the beginning of the year. Its head chef, Sven Elverfeld, is regarded not only as an outstanding chef but also as an excellent boss and mentor. “The fact that Sven’s Tafelspitz with Frankfurt green sauce is the first thing that comes to mind is surely also because I was there when it was created.” Elverfeld combines this Hessian classic made with seven herbs with tender Müritz lamb, glazed potato slices, and a quail egg, arranged geographically like a Mondrian painting. You won’t find a green sauce like that at Hartwig’s, but you will find contemporary interpretations of other German classics such as meatloaf and mustard-marinated eggs. Just as down-to-earth as Sigl’s Chiemgau char with yeast sauce, yet like it, characterized by sophistication, the finest ingredients, perfect craftsmanship, and an unmistakable style. In other words, everything that defines three-starred cuisine. Even in Germany.