I’m an honorary German. Every time my husband and I play the game of “Pick a Nationality” Germany always wins for me. Germany’s combination of efficiency, perpetual resting bitch face, attractive men, cool female leader, and killer World Cup team makes me just identify at a level I didn’t know was possible with a bunch of blondes. I was REALLY excited to go to Heidelberg. This fine establishment came across my radar after seeing a clip of my dude Bourdain go here for a meal. Simple, yet delectable authentic German cuisine at its finest. Two of the members of my food crew joined in last Friday and it was glorious. The place was happening, but not in an overly obnoxious New York way, where everything is a three hour wait (looking at you Roberta’s). Now THIS is a foodie’s dream. Our waiter was hilarious, super personable and willing to walk us through the menu. Normally I can half-ass my way through foreign pronunciations, but German is a clear no-go. It sounds like I’m having a stroke. My husband was randomly really into the restaurant’s gothic-esque decor. Conclusion – this place is legit, and one of my favorite NYC dining experiences so far.
The Beer selection was on point. I typically never order beers for dinner, but when in Rome, amirite. I’m particularly fond of fruity or wheat beers. Basically, the less it tastes like beer the better. In college, I strived to be one of those chicks that’s into IPAs for all of 2 seconds, before realizing, dammit I like fruity drinks. Despite my obnoxious beer stipulations boy did I love what they had in store. My beer, whose name I can’t remember for the life of me, was a drink reminiscent of Orangina; liquid heaven that I sipped on all night.
We ordered the Kase Spaetzle as our first app of the evening, (read: GERMAN MAC N CHEESE) , topped with BACON.. SOLD SOLD and SOLD. (Cracks neck) That’s when I knew we weren’t messing around.
Worthy of World Cup Champions
This could be my last meal on Earth and that would be just DANDY. Spaetzle most closely resembles gnocchi in appearance, and is a common dish in other countries such as Hungary. Lawdd The cheese was on point, with just the perfect ratio of pasta cheese butter and bacon. Writing this is making me start salivating. Ay Dios mio.
We continued carb-loading and ordered a second app consisting of potato pancakes. These were fantastic, crunchy, salty, and just all around a good time. My friend called them “German Hashbrowns” but I dont’ think that comparison gives justice to the potato pancakes. I would definitely spend more time at McDonalds if they had these badboys in store.
Just one of 121,392,031 iterations of this carb
Our third app consisted of a soup, which was essentially a more delicious version of Campbells Beef Chunky. I ain’t complaining.
The order of the night was the sausage trio. Our waiter explained that the white one was Veal, the pink one was beef/pork and the brown one was Bratwurst. I originally did not trust the veal sausage but it ended up being my favorite order of the night. It packs a punch, extremely flavorful and just all around really soft and tender. The brats was pretty fantastic too, very, very smoky.
BOOM. So good.
Brats are typically pan fried in beer, which explains the smoky taste. The beef sausage was good too, but it never stood a chance against the veal sausage and brats to be memorable. The sausage trio came accompanied with … wait for it.. Potato Salad (of course). Germans love their fucking potatoes man. Tangent – I feel like I can tell a lot from a country by what their carb of choice is. For Latinos and Asians its rice, but Europe is loyal to the potato at a whole new impressive level. I applaud you Germany.
To round out the night, we ordered a side of diabetes manifested as ApfelStrudel. Germany’s national dessert comes with a moutain of whipped cream. This was just the literal icing on top of a wonderful culinary evening.
Buenas Noches
Auf Wiedersehen betches (in my Heidi Klum voice).
Gourmand 