Schroeder's

Schroeder's Restaurant Review:

German beers from white to double dark join bratwurst, beef tongue, crispy pork cracklings and neo-Teutonic krauts, pickles and mustards house-made by whiz-kid chef Manfred Wrembel. First opened in 1893, its original home destroyed in the 1906 earthquake and fire, Schroeder's has been a stalwart, stein-studded sausage-spätzle-and-suds standby at this Financial District location near the Embarcadero since 1959. The 6,000-square-foot restaurant still bears its vintage deer heads, rosewood bar and Herman Richter murals but is now light years ahead of its former, men-only midcentury stuffiness thanks to a sleek makeover by tech-industry vets turned restaurateurs Jan Wiginton and Andy Chun (Press Club). A meaty menu (give or take a few potato pancakes and standout fried Brussels sprouts) stands up to strong brews, German and Austrian wines, and original cocktails like the kirschwasser-applejack Firefly. Sweets such as nut kuchen and fruit gelée employ choice seasonal produce, revealing that German desserts aren't entirely about the apple. Special events including an annual Oktoberfest intensify the Teutonicism.