'Luxury Is Not Automatically Lobster, Caviar or Truffle': A conversation with Director of Culinary Heiko Riebandt, The Great Southern Killarney
- James Massoud
- 11 minutes ago
- 8 min read
For Heiko Riebandt, modern luxury dining has less to do with extravagant ingredients and more to do with great produce, thoughtful cooking and knowing what a guest actually wants. Now Director of Culinary at The Great Southern Killarney, the German-born chef is bringing that philosophy to one of Ireland’s most historic hotels as it begins a new chapter following its five-star achievement.
At Arbour, the hotel’s contemporary brasserie, that means putting Kerry firmly on the plate – from Cromane oysters and Kerry lamb to farmhouse cheese and locally grown vegetables – while combining the classical technique Riebandt developed across Germany, Switzerland, Austria and Ireland with the warmth and informality of Irish hospitality.
The Knife spoke to him about redefining luxury, why chefs need to listen to the landscape and what it takes to give a 170-year-old hotel a modern culinary identity.
The Great Southern has over 170 years of history behind it, but Arbour is clearly looking forward rather than backwards. How do you decide which traditions deserve protecting and which are ready to be rewritten?
We protect the traditions that still create genuine value for the guest: generosity, personal service, a sense of occasion and the warmth associated with The Great Southern.
However, tradition should never become an excuse for standing still. Formality that makes guests uncomfortable, unnecessary complexity or practices that no longer improve the experience should be questioned.
I am classically trained, and that foundation remains important, but Arbour cannot be a recreation of a restaurant from another era. It must belong to Killarney today: recognisable food, strong flavours, excellent Irish ingredients and relaxed brasserie hospitality within a remarkable historic setting.
When you arrived in Kerry, was there a particular local ingredient or producer that genuinely surprised you and made you think, "I can build something around this"?
It was not one dramatic moment or a single ingredient. It was the individuality of Kerry’s smaller producers and the relationships we were able to build with them.
Knockatee Cheese is a strong example. It has a clear identity and reflects the milk, the land and the people behind it. The same is true of Mary Walsh’s leaves and vegetables from Little Black Hill Farm, Kerry meat supplied through Cronin’s, and oysters from Cromane.
When an ingredient arrives with that much character, it immediately sparks ideas. There is no need to disguise it or overwork it. The producer and the landscape have already done much of the work; our responsibility is simply to respect that, and let the ingredient speak for itself.
How has your definition of hospitality changed over the last decade, and what does luxury actually look like on the plate in 2026?
Earlier in my career, I probably associated luxury more with rare ingredients, elaborate presentation and technical complexity. Today, I see it much more personally.
Luxury is having enough time to notice the guest. It is understanding why they are dining, recognising what they need from the occasion and delivering it without making the service feel scripted.
On the plate, luxury is not automatically lobster, caviar or truffle. It can be an excellent Irish chicken, properly seasoned, rested and served at the correct temperature with a sauce that has been given the time it deserves. The guest should experience clarity and enjoyment. The work and complexity should remain behind the scenes.
Do you see Arbour's role as telling the story of Kerry through the people who grow and rear it or is it simply to serve fantastic food?
It must serve fantastic food first. A good story cannot rescue a dish that is poorly cooked or badly seasoned.
That said, when the ingredient and the cooking are right, knowing the people behind the product gives the food a deeper sense of meaning. Our relationships with growers, farmers, cheesemakers, butchers and seafood suppliers allow us to create a genuine connection to Kerry and the people who make it what it is.
I don’t want guests to be given a long explanation with every plate. The story should be felt first through the flavour, quality and character of the food. For those who want to know more, there is a story to discover – the people, the producers and the landscape behind each ingredient. But equally, someone should be able to sit down, enjoy the dish and simply think, that tastes fantastic. For me, fantastic food is the most authentic way to tell the story of Kerry.
Many chefs talk about seasonality in broad terms, but Kerry's climate is famously unpredictable. Has the landscape ever forced you to abandon a dish or completely rethink a menu at the last minute?
Yes. Kerry quickly teaches you that nature makes the final decision. Herbs, leaves, tomatoes, vegetables and wild mushrooms may arrive earlier or later than expected, and availability can change very quickly. We would rather adjust a garnish, change a preparation or remove a dish than use an ingredient that is no longer at its best.
Those decisions depend on good communication between our suppliers, and the chefs working with the ingredients every day. They may recognise a change in quality or availability before anyone else.
Seasonality requires planning, but it also requires flexibility and the humility to listen to the landscape and the people around you.
Returning to Ireland after leading the culinary programme at Zürserhof in Austria, what did you find yourself missing most about Irish food culture and what do you think Ireland perhaps still underestimates about its own produce?
What I missed most was the natural connection between food and people. Irish hospitality can be highly professional, but it still feels personal and unforced. Guests speak to you, suppliers become part of the restaurant, and food remains closely connected to family, conversation and celebration.
Ireland is rightly confident about its beef and seafood, but I believe it still underestimates some of its everyday products: vegetables, leaves, dairy, farmhouse cheese, bread and lamb.
Zürserhof strengthened my discipline and precision. Returning to Ireland reminded me that those skills are most valuable when they support the ingredient and the guest rather than dominate them.
A hotel kitchen has to be many things at once: breakfast service, afternoon tea, cocktails, fine dining, weddings and events. How do you create a single culinary identity when every guest experiences the hotel differently?
The identity comes from shared values rather than making every outlet serve the same style of food. Arbour is a brasserie, Brownes Bar has a different purpose, and breakfast, afternoon tea, weddings and conferences each have their own requirements. Trying to force one menu language across all of them would be a mistake.
What must remain consistent is the care: good ingredients, correct cooking, attention to temperature, generous hospitality and food that suits the occasion.
My Executive Head Chef Gavin Nolan plays an important role in connecting those areas operationally, together with the senior chefs and the wider brigade. I rely on their daily experience, and their feedback also helps shape our overall direction.
A single culinary identity is created when everyone understands what we stand for, even when the food and style of service change.
The hotel's summer programme stretches beyond Arbour into whiskey evenings, cocktails inspired by Kerry and even guided foraging experiences. Is that broadening your definition of what a chef should be responsible for today?
The modern culinary role extends beyond the kitchen door. Food connects naturally with the bar, the gardens, local producers, guides, activities and, ultimately, the wider story of the destination. That does not mean the chef needs to be an expert in every area. It means working closely with people who have that specialist knowledge and making sure the culinary element feels authentic and adds something meaningful to the experience.
Guests do not experience a hotel in separate departments. They remember the whole journey – walking through Kerry, discovering something connected to the landscape, enjoying a locally inspired drink and then sitting down to dinner. Our role is to make those moments feel connected and genuine, rather than like a series of separate experiences.
For me, that is what a modern chef can contribute: not just what is on the plate, but helping to create a sense of place around it.
If I followed you into the kitchen during service, what would I notice that most diners never see but perfectly sums up the standards you've brought to The Great Southern?
You would hopefully notice presence, communication and teamwork rather than one person trying to control the room.
Gavin leads the daily kitchen operation with the support of the senior chefs, while I remain present across the kitchens to observe, support and step in where needed. Being present does not always mean standing on the pass. It means understanding what is happening, listening to the team and helping remove obstacles before they affect the guest.
You would see plates being checked, timings adjusted and chefs supporting another section without waiting to be asked. The guest never sees the plate that was stopped, the garnish that was replaced or the table held briefly so everything could leave together. Those quiet decisions often define the standard.
What's Kerry's most underrated ingredient, and what makes it deserve far more attention than it currently gets?
Kerry lamb deserves far more attention. Irish beef and Atlantic seafood are rightly celebrated, but good Kerry lamb has a distinctive flavour and a direct connection to the county’s coastal and mountain landscape.
It does not need to be overworked. The responsibility is to cook it correctly, allow the fat to render and pair it with ingredients that support rather than overpower it. It tells a genuine story about Kerry’s land, climate and farming traditions. For me, that carries more meaning than importing an ingredient simply because it has a luxurious reputation.
Building a brigade is often harder than building a menu. When you're hiring young chefs today, are you looking first for technical ability, curiosity, resilience or something else entirely?
Attitude and curiosity come first. Technical skills can be taught, but it is much harder to teach somebody to care, be reliable, accept feedback or respect the people working around them.
We are looking for chefs who ask questions, taste the food and want to understand more than the task immediately in front of them. Resilience is important, but not in the old-fashioned sense of accepting shouting or poor treatment. It means staying composed during a difficult service, taking responsibility and returning determined to improve.
Learning also works in both directions. I continue to learn from Gavin and from chefs at every level of the brigade. They bring different experiences, new perspectives and ideas that inspire and challenge me. A strong brigade is built when people trust one another and understand that the success of the team matters more than individual recognition.
Beyond Michelin stars or accolades, what would make you feel you've truly succeeded in shaping Arbour's identity within one of Ireland's most iconic hotels?
Success would be when Arbour’s identity no longer needs to be explained, you can simply feel it. Guests should understand what we are through the experience: a modern brasserie rooted in Kerry, set within a historic five-star hotel, where the surroundings may be grand, but the food and hospitality feel relaxed, warm and personal. That identity cannot belong to one person. It has to be understood, shared and carried forward by the kitchen team, the restaurant team and everyone involved in creating the experience.
I’ll know we have succeeded when local guests choose to come back regularly, when hotel guests see Arbour as part of the reason to visit Killarney, and when our producers feel genuinely represented in what we do. Most importantly, I want the team to feel a sense of ownership and have the confidence to keep developing Arbour together.
Awards and recognition are always welcome, but they are not the measure of success for me. A proud team, strong relationships with our producers, returning guests and an identity that continues to evolve, that would mean far more.
