Pachers: Third Generation, Rethought
In Neustift, just behind the vineyards, you’ll find Pachers. A family-run guesthouse in its third generation – not rebuilt, but thoughtfully reimagined by Johanna, Michael and Sebastian Huber. Where space used to be tight, there’s now room: room for calm, for time, for that rare kind of relaxation only a few places can offer.
The lobby feels airy and bright, the light falls differently now. Less traditional costumes, more modern Alpine architecture. There are fewer rooms than before, but they’re more generous. Some corners invite you to pause, others to get things done. It’s a place that gets how we travel today – with breaks, sure, but also with projects. Digital nomads will find sockets with a view.
At Pachers, sustainability isn’t a marketing slogan – it’s a mindset. Local partners, regional materials, and renovations that keep things low-key by design. The wood comes from South Tyrolean forests, the furniture from nearby workshops.
From there, a path leads along the Einsack stream toward town – vineyards to the left, the quiet babble of water to the right, and the mountains glowing ahead in warm light. The air smells of autumn and chimney smoke.
Jasmin Castagnaro: Racing Against Time
At the edge of town, Jasmin Castagnaro works in her small studio. Her year at MIYUCA begins when the leaves fall off the trees. From that moment, she has two weeks to gather all the material she’ll need – a race against leaf blowers and municipal cleaning teams.
On her shelves, boxes of dried leaves are stacked high – maple, beech, oak – sorted by shade like an autumn color palette. Then the real process begins: sorting, drying, pressing, layering. No chemicals, no shortcuts. Just patience, precision, and trust in the material. Some series rest for months. In the end, she creates lamps and design objects that glow like late October afternoons. Her work is a quiet conversation about time, value, and the beauty in things we often overlook. What was once waste becomes something that lasts.
Levin Grüten: Cooking With a Conscience
Above the old town, in Kranebitt, sits AO. Levin Grüten has cooked all over the world – but what he brings to Brixen isn’t just recipes, it’s a mindset: cook with what grows right around you.
The Belgian-born chef’s cuisine is precise, pared back, and clear. At the same time, it’s intense – like a translation of the landscape. Fermented beetroot with elderflower vinaigrette. Two takes on organic free-range chicken from Öbersthof, or braised cheek of Dolomitica beef. Sourdough bread with raw milk butter so good, you’ll want another round.
Nose-to-tail is a given. Behind it all is a network of farms, gardens, and producers: vegetables harvested at their peak, animals raised with time, love, and plenty of space. The pantry is stocked with jars of pickled mushrooms, fermented tomatoes, and dried herbs. Summer, preserved in glass and bottles. Teresa Pichler handles the wine pairings – over 193 labels, with wines from both sides of the Alps, plus house-made whites from grapes grown right outside the door, like Sylvaner and Kerner. Variety, sustainability, and personality in every glass.
Galleries, Beer, Törggelen
Over the past few years, Brixen’s old town has quietly grown a vibrant cultural scene. Stadtgalerie Brixen, run by the South Tyrolean Artists’ Association, showcases contemporary art in rotating exhibitions. Every few years, the city gallery gets a fresh curatorial touch – often in collaboration with local museums and art schools. In courtyards and converted workshops, young creatives from photography, ceramics, and design have set up studios. These aren’t staged spaces for tourists – they’re places where real work happens, where ideas take shape.
And yes, Brixen brews its own beer. Viertel Bier, launched three years ago, is made with regional grains and water from the Valser Valley. Small-batch brews come in all sorts: deep black with hints of bitter chocolate, pale and crisp, or light and fruity. Flavors of a city that’s finding its own rhythm.
Come autumn, it’s time for Törggelen. On traditional farms across the Eisack Valley, young farmers and winemakers open their doors. What’s on the table? Historic recipes, home-grown vegetables, house-made wine. Hand-folded dumplings with spinach and ricotta – it’s Schlutzkrapfen time! Farm-fresh sausages. Roasted chestnuts, paired with new wine. No touristy folklore – just a living tradition that’s still going strong. You eat slowly, sip carefully, and forget the clock. We even dedicated a poem to it.
Add to that the city’s familiar anchors: Alter Schlachthof with its honest food, Wirtshaus Decantei offers South Tyrolean Grandma’s Cooking – reimagined with creativity and a love for craftsmanship and FINK – a 600-year-old townhouse in the heart of the old town. Here, Florian Fink champions monastic cuisine, inspired by centuries-old knowledge from Brixen’s monastery gardens. The focus? Plants first. The menu is rich in vegan and vegetarian options: root veggie tartare, Eisack Valley wine soup, monastery-style Schlutzer with chard and wild spinach – proof that simplicity, done right, can be spectacular.
Change doesn’t shout here. It whispers – in the details, in new spaces, in the way people work, cook, and think. Those who once left are coming back. Opening hip restaurants, studios, and workshops. Brewing beer, redesigning hotels, collaborating with local producers.
Spend a few days in Brixen and you’ll feel it: something’s shifting. This is a city that doesn’t shed its traditions – it reimagines them. Brixen stays Brixen, with its stunning mountains, historic alleyways, and the rushing Eisack river. But in between, something new is taking shape – young, creative, curious. A place that asks nothing of you, yet gives you so much.
Words: Julian Lemme Photos: Robin Schmitt, Julian Lemme