dinner review: schnitzel haus
8 March 2011
What I love about my neighborhood (Bay Ridge, Brooklyn) is that it was seemingly designed with me in mind.
Cheap bars and pubs? Oh, yeah. There’s the charming JJ Bubbles, which has cheap (and I mean, cheap) drinks and the most hipster décor (brass instruments and 70’s beer paraphernalia hanging everywhere) but doesn’t even know it; the LongBow, a Welsh pub on my very street at which I eat at least twice a week, including on the weekends to enjoy the full English breakfast or arguably the best bacon-egg-cheese sandwich I’ve ever had, and which also has terrific beer list (and growlers to go!); and just up the road there are Kitty Kiernan’s and Pipin’s, two places in which I’m pretty sure I could live forever.
The food is terrific. Gino’s pizza (and Italian food) is practically a landmark. Each time I eat the vodka sauce (usually with gnocchi) or the square slices at Vesuvio’s, I am convinced that Jesus Christ Himself had a hand in making them. Though I’m still searching for a delicious but divey Mexican place (in the “so awesome that it makes the anal aneurysm that you have immediately after finishing the meal worth it” sense), Mezcal’s is a very good, slightly classy Mexican joint that hits the spot. Hot Wok is the best Chinese food I’ve ever had, the cheesesteak at Pepino’s is an eight on a good day, and the Burger Bistro has done to the burger what the Meatball Shop did to the meatball (and it has ice cream sandwiches, too!). There are three diners within a ten minute walk of my apartment, and Bagel Boy, just up the street, not only has great breakfast sammies but is open 24 hours on the weekends (not listed on the menu is the unfortunately named “Big Blue” sandwich – breaded chicken cutlet, swiss, Russian dressing, lettuce, tomato, onion). Finally, though I think it’s mandatory that you get punched in the face by one of Bay Ridge’s finest surly 20-something ginzo residents immediately upon entering the bar on the weekends, there is no denying the wings at Kettle Black are huge and delicious (love the big bear sauce).
And perhaps most importantly for me, sweets. There are three Carvels within a short walk, one of which is a Carvel/Cinnabon (yes, you read that right). There is a Haagen Dazs. There is a Cold Stone. And there is the Little Cupcake Bakeshop. I can’t think about this place without trembling in ecstasy, thus making it difficult for me to type, so I’ll just leave it at that.
(I’m tempted to make the joke that the banana pudding at Little Cupcake is actually the Ejaculate of God, but I won’t. Not because it’s gross, but because I already made a religious reference when I said Jesus works at Vesuvio’s. Gotta spread the joke subject matter around, people.)
Why am I telling you all of this? For one, I’m a fattie. For two (?), last night my lady and I went out to a place we hadn’t yet tried, and this happened:
This is our meal from Schnitzel Haus. And, my friends, things will never be the same.
For all the things the Germans may have screwed up in the past, one thing that they have totally right is eating and drinking. Beef, pork, veal, sausage, potatoes, pretzels, (big) beers – check, check, check, check, check, check and…check. To be honest, we’ve known of this place’s existence since we moved in, and I’m surprised it’s taken us so long to get there.
But none of that matters now. We didn’t bother with apps, and got right into it. Despite my pleas for her to get something more adventurous, my girlfriend wanted something “safe” and ordered the boring Haehnchenschnitzel, a boneless, breaded chicken cutlet that came with a salad and fries. I went the opposite direction and decided to let my (apparently phallic-loving) freak out, and ordered the Wurstteller mit allem Drum and Dran, a sample platter of five sausages – smoked bratwurst on the bottom; bratwurst, knackwurst and veal weisswurst in the middle; and Bauernwurstteller (“Farmers sausage”) on top – served with mashed potatoes, red cabbage, sauerkraut and two mustards.
Let’s start with her Haehnchenschnitzel: amazing. I know that it’s hard to go wrong with (more or less) fried chicken, but the breading was so light and the chicken so tender and juicy I wanted to put the two (giant) slabs of chicken on my face so we could just…be…together. The curly fries were a nice touch (who doesn’t love curly fries?).
As for the sausages, holy shitballs. If I had to rank them in order, it would probably go bratwurst, smoked bratwurst (close one-two), Bauernwurstteller, knackwurst (close three-four), weisswurst (still really, really good, but my girlfriend kept remarking on its pale gray color so much that it guaranteed the poor sausage fifth place). I don’t know what else to say other than man is seldom closer to God than when he takes a slice of sausage, covers it in red cabbage and sauerkraut and mustard, and then dips it into a pile of mashed potatoes before sending it on that magical journey from his mouth to his belly. Amen.
(And have I mentioned the beer? Two half-liters of a German beer that’s not on their online menu and whose name escapes me and a Kronenbourg, which I enjoy if for no other reason than it’s the beer I lived off of while studying abroad in London (because it was cheap). I was in heaven.)
Without being overly dramatic, here’s how moved I was by this meal: I CAME BACK TO MY PLACE AND STARTING LOOKING AT APARTMENTS FOR SALE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD. And I don’t think this is a passing phase – that food was so good that it may have just tipped the scale in favor of Bay Ridge and I settling down and getting serious. Rare is the man who will purchase a home based on his experience with a sausage, but, ladies and gentlemen, I may just be that man.
************
So I guess what I’m trying to say that if you’re looking for some great German food and you find yourself in south Brooklyn – or if you’re looking to make a night out of eating sausages and drinking liters – you should probably go to Schnitzel Haus. If you are not a total fucking retard, you will really, really love it.
Cheap bars and pubs? Oh, yeah. There’s the charming JJ Bubbles, which has cheap (and I mean, cheap) drinks and the most hipster décor (brass instruments and 70’s beer paraphernalia hanging everywhere) but doesn’t even know it; the LongBow, a Welsh pub on my very street at which I eat at least twice a week, including on the weekends to enjoy the full English breakfast or arguably the best bacon-egg-cheese sandwich I’ve ever had, and which also has terrific beer list (and growlers to go!); and just up the road there are Kitty Kiernan’s and Pipin’s, two places in which I’m pretty sure I could live forever.
The food is terrific. Gino’s pizza (and Italian food) is practically a landmark. Each time I eat the vodka sauce (usually with gnocchi) or the square slices at Vesuvio’s, I am convinced that Jesus Christ Himself had a hand in making them. Though I’m still searching for a delicious but divey Mexican place (in the “so awesome that it makes the anal aneurysm that you have immediately after finishing the meal worth it” sense), Mezcal’s is a very good, slightly classy Mexican joint that hits the spot. Hot Wok is the best Chinese food I’ve ever had, the cheesesteak at Pepino’s is an eight on a good day, and the Burger Bistro has done to the burger what the Meatball Shop did to the meatball (and it has ice cream sandwiches, too!). There are three diners within a ten minute walk of my apartment, and Bagel Boy, just up the street, not only has great breakfast sammies but is open 24 hours on the weekends (not listed on the menu is the unfortunately named “Big Blue” sandwich – breaded chicken cutlet, swiss, Russian dressing, lettuce, tomato, onion). Finally, though I think it’s mandatory that you get punched in the face by one of Bay Ridge’s finest surly 20-something ginzo residents immediately upon entering the bar on the weekends, there is no denying the wings at Kettle Black are huge and delicious (love the big bear sauce).
And perhaps most importantly for me, sweets. There are three Carvels within a short walk, one of which is a Carvel/Cinnabon (yes, you read that right). There is a Haagen Dazs. There is a Cold Stone. And there is the Little Cupcake Bakeshop. I can’t think about this place without trembling in ecstasy, thus making it difficult for me to type, so I’ll just leave it at that.
(I’m tempted to make the joke that the banana pudding at Little Cupcake is actually the Ejaculate of God, but I won’t. Not because it’s gross, but because I already made a religious reference when I said Jesus works at Vesuvio’s. Gotta spread the joke subject matter around, people.)
Why am I telling you all of this? For one, I’m a fattie. For two (?), last night my lady and I went out to a place we hadn’t yet tried, and this happened:
This is our meal from Schnitzel Haus. And, my friends, things will never be the same.
For all the things the Germans may have screwed up in the past, one thing that they have totally right is eating and drinking. Beef, pork, veal, sausage, potatoes, pretzels, (big) beers – check, check, check, check, check, check and…check. To be honest, we’ve known of this place’s existence since we moved in, and I’m surprised it’s taken us so long to get there.
But none of that matters now. We didn’t bother with apps, and got right into it. Despite my pleas for her to get something more adventurous, my girlfriend wanted something “safe” and ordered the boring Haehnchenschnitzel, a boneless, breaded chicken cutlet that came with a salad and fries. I went the opposite direction and decided to let my (apparently phallic-loving) freak out, and ordered the Wurstteller mit allem Drum and Dran, a sample platter of five sausages – smoked bratwurst on the bottom; bratwurst, knackwurst and veal weisswurst in the middle; and Bauernwurstteller (“Farmers sausage”) on top – served with mashed potatoes, red cabbage, sauerkraut and two mustards.
Let’s start with her Haehnchenschnitzel: amazing. I know that it’s hard to go wrong with (more or less) fried chicken, but the breading was so light and the chicken so tender and juicy I wanted to put the two (giant) slabs of chicken on my face so we could just…be…together. The curly fries were a nice touch (who doesn’t love curly fries?).
As for the sausages, holy shitballs. If I had to rank them in order, it would probably go bratwurst, smoked bratwurst (close one-two), Bauernwurstteller, knackwurst (close three-four), weisswurst (still really, really good, but my girlfriend kept remarking on its pale gray color so much that it guaranteed the poor sausage fifth place). I don’t know what else to say other than man is seldom closer to God than when he takes a slice of sausage, covers it in red cabbage and sauerkraut and mustard, and then dips it into a pile of mashed potatoes before sending it on that magical journey from his mouth to his belly. Amen.
(And have I mentioned the beer? Two half-liters of a German beer that’s not on their online menu and whose name escapes me and a Kronenbourg, which I enjoy if for no other reason than it’s the beer I lived off of while studying abroad in London (because it was cheap). I was in heaven.)
Without being overly dramatic, here’s how moved I was by this meal: I CAME BACK TO MY PLACE AND STARTING LOOKING AT APARTMENTS FOR SALE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD. And I don’t think this is a passing phase – that food was so good that it may have just tipped the scale in favor of Bay Ridge and I settling down and getting serious. Rare is the man who will purchase a home based on his experience with a sausage, but, ladies and gentlemen, I may just be that man.
************
So I guess what I’m trying to say that if you’re looking for some great German food and you find yourself in south Brooklyn – or if you’re looking to make a night out of eating sausages and drinking liters – you should probably go to Schnitzel Haus. If you are not a total fucking retard, you will really, really love it.
