Vienna for The Food Pilgrims: a Friday-to-Monday weekend

The long market as it winds down for the day, sauerkraut from the barrel at Leo's, Urbanek's cheese counter, and a glass of wine at a stall bar.

Erwin Gegenbauer's vinegars and oils tasted from the bottle, tomato, quince and a thirty-year balsamic; the stall holds a tasting if you ask.

The Schnitzel pounded, breaded and fried in butter in front of you at the Schnitzel station, with cranberry and a potato salad done properly.

The Saturday farmers' market in the second district: Burgenland vegetables, goat cheese, bread from the Joseph bakery, and breakfast at a stall.

A pastry cook stretches strudel dough across the table until the newspaper reads through it, every hour on the hour; the slice is included.

The Reitbauers' Michelin-starred tasting menu in the park, char cooked in beeswax and a bread trolley of thirty loaves; the city's hardest table, so book about two months ahead.

The Viennese breakfast by the Burgtheater, a soft egg, Semmeln and a Melange on the terrace where Freud and Mahler took theirs.

Tafelspitz with chive sauce and roasted potatoes in a wood-panelled Beisl open on Sunday, a pianist in the corner by evening.

The original Sachertorte with unsweetened cream in the red-velvet café of the hotel, worth the queue once; the dispute with Demel is for tomorrow.

The longest street market in the city on a Monday morning, Turkish bakers, Balkan grocers and the Yppenplatz cafés for a coffee between.

The jam and pickle maker's own shop on the square, apricot from the Wachau and pickled pumpkin; tasting spoons and a jar for the suitcase.

Beinschinken open sandwiches at the marble stand-up counter, a glass of Grüner, and the city's shop-keepers around you before the airport.