At Wusthaus, one look at the wear and tear of the mustard labels and you know this isn’t the average hot dog joint. Dijon, the label barely legible, sits next to pristine American and honey mustards. One peak at the draft list, and you might think you’ve gone to sleep and woken up somewhere between Brussels and Dusseldorf, where half the taps are German, the other half, Belgian.
Although Belgian beer does pair beautifully with any food (seriously, try it), my Lorelei from August to October is German beer. From malty Munich lagers, crisp Kölsche from Cologne, and even smoky Rrauchbieren from Bamburg, I absolutely adore each style, and thus, crave liters upon liters. But for this post, however, I grab a flight, which for $2-$3 a pour (x4) makes me chicken dance on the long beer garden stammtisch (restaurant table in Germany that’s reserved for regulars).
Wurst in German means sausage, and this Wursthaus is a full-on sausage party. More than 20 classic, gourmet, and exotic wurst are grilled, topped, and bunned for your pleasure. The drunken fries are not to be missed; perfectly crisp Kennebec potatoes topped with andalouse sauce and the sweetest IPA caramelized onions you’ve ever tasted. Seriously, get the IPA onions on the sausage too, you won’t regret it.
Full pours are also a thing of beauty, and I highly suggest grabbing the Weizenbock from the oldest brewery in the world, Weihenstephaner (pronounced Y-hen-Steffan-er according to them). Poured in proper glassware, the wheaty-yeasty beer bursts with notes of banana’s foster, apricot, citrus and clove, all while being a surprisingly light and refreshing beer (at 7.7 percent ABV, no less).
Wursthaus – 305 E 4th St #106, Santa Ana