Blue Goose

I haven't sought out German food since the days when my parents would tote us to Alpine Village, where we would simulate the culinary version of a family vacation. Not surprisingly, we would often be the only Asian family at the "Home of the Oktoberfest," sampling such delights as wienerschnitzel and sauerbraten.

Mindful that it was possible that I just hadn't experienced good German food before, I recently ventured to Blaue Gans (BLAU-eh gahnz, or what I think of as BLAH-eh gahnz), an Austrian-German restaurant in Tribeca. Despite our reservations, we waited at the bar for a good half hour before being seated -- always a promising start to an evening. While many of choices in the wide selection of classic Bavarian dishes (including fried chicken!) were quite tempting, I opted for the very traditional blood sausage and sauerkraut starter and the wienerschnitzel entree, which, I imagined, was much the same as a German person going to a Chinese restaurant and ordering fried rice and Peking duck. I rather liked the range of flavors in the crumbled sausage, sauerkraut, and mashed potatoes -- that is, until I happened upon the unmistakeable taste of dastardly mustard, at which point I no longer felt kindly toward the dish. Happily the wienerschnitzel was crisply fried and paired with potato salad and cranberry sauce (and completely devoid of mustard), just what I would expect to eat at a German Thanksgiving. There was, however, only so much veal cutlet a girl could eat, and I left wishing that I had ordered the fried chicken instead.

Next time we take a culinary version of a family vacation, I won't be clamoring for an outing to Alpine Village.