Schnitzel and Such

As a girl born and raised in the South, it's fair to say that I don't know much about schnitzel. Or wursts or krauts, for that matter. The closest thing to German food I've really experienced in my sheltered lifetime is sauerkraut, which my worldly friend Wendy convinced me to try back when we were in college, on a hot dog at a baseball game (you were right, Wendy, I've been a fan ever since). When I think of German cuisine, I always think of it as being heavy and masculine. Sausages and beer, eaten by big lumberjack types with heavy accents during Oktoberfest and the like...at least until last week, when we found ourselves in an unlikely restaurant in Pineville, North Carolina, enjoying a very German and very delicious meal.

I suppose I should rewind a bit and tell you how that daring date night came to be. Clint, as I have undoubtedly already complained, has been on a whirlwind travel schedule the last several months. Last week, he was supposed to be in Berlin for work. This left me feeling a little jilted because it is my general rule that he should not do anything that could be construed as fun unless I am around to enjoy it, too (which seems completely and totally fair and not the least bit selfish, thankyouverymuch). Not one to be outdone by his international itinerary, I asked some friends to meet me for our very own little slice of Germany, at the Waldhorn restaurant out in the suburbs of our city. Over the years that we have lived here, I have heard quite a few people talk about how amazing the food is at the Waldhorn, but I've really never had the cause or occasion to try it for myself. And now, the Berlin trip provided just the motivation necessary to try something new.

Luckily for him, the Berlin trip was canceled at the last minute, and Clint wound up home for the week and free to join our friends Ryan, Jason, and me for dinner. He even shook off the man cold he had been battling so he could participate, and I am reasonably sure it was worth the effort.

Located just off the beaten path, the Waldhorn almost looks like a castle from the outside:

Coincidentally, there was a small Porsche convention at the restaurant that evening, so as we walked through the parking lot when we arrived, we were surrounded by luxury sport cars. It was probably an unfair assumption, but took it as a good sign that people with the good taste to drive such beautiful cars had chosen the same dining establishment. We were already off to a, albeit materialistic, good start.

Naturally, we all ordered German beer as our beverage of choice. Hey, when in Rome, right?

Jason and I, because we both love food and enjoy a touch of OCD, had already done a little research about what to order. (The only German I know is "auf wiedersehen" and that is because Heidi Klum says "goodbye" in her native tongue to failed contestants on Project Runway. Let's just say I had plenty of room for learning.)

We read lot of positive reviews and all kinds of recommendations, but the one commonality in all of them was this: pretzel rolls.

Soft, warm, salted, and served with spicy mustard or butter, these little babies lived up to their reputation. They were so light, I could have eaten a dozen of them, and one member of our group may or may not have taken an entire basket of pretzel rolls home in a to-go container. They were heaven!

We each ordered something different, although there were some similarities in a few of our choices. Everyone was ultimately pleased with their decision, and there was lots of oohing and aahing over each other's plates as we dug into our German fare.

The Waldhorn Sampler

Never one to settle, I decided to try the sampler, which came with pork weinerschnitzel, beef roulade, and bratwurst, with homemade spatzle and red cabbage. Spatzle (or spaetzle) is a popular German side dish of soft egg noodles that goes well with all sorts of spices and flavors. The other side, red cabbage, was especially delicious, and I do not usually reserve high praise for things like cabbage. This was basically sauteed, sweet and sour cabbage and I could eat it every single day. Clint also ordered the weinerschnitzel and was pleasantly surprised at how light and fork-tender it was (not an easy accomplishment for breaded, fried pork).

The "Rinderfilet Stephanie"

The next dish was, visually, the star of the show. My friend Ryan ordered the Rinderfilet Stephanie: filet mignon wrapped in bacon and puff pastry and topped with Bernaise sauce. How could you go wrong with that? The night we dined, it was a chilly fall evening and this seemed like such great comfort food.

Schwabische Wurstplatte

I'm just going to come right out and say it: the wurstplatte wasn't pretty; in fact, our whole table got a good chuckle over how, er, masculine this plating seemed when it arrived. This was Jason's choice and it included bratwurst, knockwurst, and something called bauernbratwurst, with home fries and some sauteed vegetables for good measure. It has to be healthy if there are veggies involved, right?

We were stuffed. We ate, we drank, we decided that this German food thing is kind of great. Then our waitress mentioned that the restaurant's monthly special was a free slice of Black Forest cake with every two entrees. Well, I said we were stuffed, not stupid. Always prudent, we decided to split one order of cake and get the other to go. Hey, someone was going to need another dessert to accompany that leftover basket of pretzel rolls, after all.

Black Forest cake, or the remains!

In my excitement, I forgot to snap a picture of the cake when it arrived, so I'm posting a shot of of the aftermath. Clearly, we hated it. I think we left a few granules of powdered sugar and the mint leaf garnish behind, and that's about it.

As walked among the rows of Porsches and back to our own cars, we agreed that the Waldhorn is a unique and tasty find, whether you're looking for something adventurous or just feel like enjoying a basket (or three) of pretzel rolls. I think I've gained weight just typing the details, so, as my friend Heidi always says, Auf Wiedersehen! And if Clint's trip to Germany gets rescheduled again, I know a great dinner spot for myself while he's away.