We followed that up with our typical foray into organ meats with Leberknödelsuppe, a liver dumpling soup in beef broth. It reminded me–like most German food does–to keep drinking heavily, as the saltiness helped me plow through the upper portion of the boot–the sock, if you will. But I took the advice of a German coworker who told me to order it with the Obatzda, a delicious Bavarian cheese spread that she said reminded her of home. We began the gorging with some of their housemade soft pretzels–Chef Nolan said his wife makes them each day–which were really awesome in their own right. Outside of glassware resembling footwear, the Brauhaus’ beer list is amazing, and the huge print of the German Purity Act of 1516 on the wall shows the commitment to not serving swill. And I will now try to recap some of these things, but for some reason, my memory was a bit hazy from the dinner. I had emailed Chef Jeremy Nolan prior to the dinner and he put together a menu that appealed to the SoG’s lust for odd animal parts and all things pork. The Society was treated to a Bavarian feast at the Brauhaus, where we enjoyed great treatment from an awesome staff on a miserably rainy night that kept a few key members from attending.

This was rectified at Brauhaus Schmitz, the German beer hall on South Street that has thankfully taken over Philly’s German helm since the sad demise of Ludwig’s Garten, which had been running on fumes for a few years–quite literally, as Ludwig’s smelled like Jürgen Klinsmann‘s sweat sock. But heretofore, I had never met Das Boot. I have been on a first name basis with Dumb before.

South philly sausage fest