Biergarten Haus

My neighbor Steve and I trekked (via Jeep) to H Street NE last night. This is no simple task. We avoided street violence, communicable diseases, road blocks, errant bicyclists, bad signage, tickets, and all manner of sketchy characters to arrive at what may be one of if not the only biergarten in DC.

Sandwiched in a block prominently featuring wig shops, fried chicken in-and-out joints, and liquor stores, it's a surprising location for a venue featuring beer wenches, accordion players, and schnitzel eating. But, it worked.

The draught taps at Biergarten Haus were out (they ran out of CO2), so things were looking grim until we snagged a table for two. As is obvious, tables for two are typically the most sought-after in a restaurant but in a biergarten, apparently it's the table for eight that's in high demand. Our table, a large barrel, and seats, surprisingly comfortable stools that dipped, were hospitable and our vantage point was ideal: out in the covered tent, near but not too close to the singing accordion player, in close proximity of the screens showing a baseball game and just off the main thoroughfare to see the clientele. It was charming: it had the real feel of a biergarten with all the quick service you'd expect from an American place.

First, we got laugenbrezel, three traditional Bavarian pretzel rolls with beer cheese and mustard. This was served, I think, as the beers were being delivered. Germans have such a great, carb-loving culture.

I had Erdinger Kristall Weiß, what Steve explained to me was lighter than a heiffeweissen. And frankly, more fun to say.
Steve ordered an intimidatingly dark beer.
The clientele and staff were fascinating. Our very vivacious waiter came over and asked if I was taking pictures of the food. I steeled myself for some nonsensical comment about the chef's preference diners simply eat and not photograph their food. Instead her question was, "are you posting them on Facebook?" Despite the ubiquity of most of my life having some representation on Facebook, I politely told her I have a food blog. "Anything I know?" she asked, to which I scoffed. Novel-like, semi-dramatically. This will be a story I'll include in my memoirs later when I make it big.

The beers were terrific and I learned how to properly Prost (saying Prost, clinking steins, hitting the table and then drinking up). Dinner was also incredible too: we each got schnitzel.

It was expansive. I had weirnerschitzel, sauerkraut (made with apples, bacon, and onions), and Kartoffelsalat (warm potato salad). Steve had schnitzel, but with spaetzle and red cabbage. Prost!