Tag Archives: sausage

Return of Rosamunde

Question: What is more delicious than a grilled currywurst w/homemade ‘kraut + a side of fries?

Answer: Very few things.

I’m oddly charmed by my [semi]newfound love of sausage. [Temporary moratorium on TWSS jokes is in effect.] As a tot, I’d eat nothing fancier than a hot dog: I loooooooooved hot dogs. Ball Park was my brand of choice; I ate my dogs striped with a tidy line of ketchup. Throughout high school and most of college: puh! I only ate pizza! But during my time in Berlin, I became a sausage fanatic. I remember one trip that my friend K and I made to the Alexanderplatz station — for the sole purpose of buying brats from the vendors there. Holy hell, those brats were good. The brat vendors wore tiny grills — yes, the grills had straps that fit over one’s shoulders — and cooked the brats ’til the sausages’ skins were crispy.

Stateside, I mostly forgot about my sausage-love until I started grad school, during which time I made a habit of buying TJ’s poultry sausage. I’d also pick up Johnsonville brats and cook them in beer, searing them in a skillet once the meat had cooked through. I’d buy the occasional package of breakfast links; I would not drown said links in syrup, as some people do. (Note: syrup and sausage: WTF?)

Now that I’m fortunate enough to live in a place with a thriving sausage scene, I get locally made whenever possible. I support the locavores’ stance by frequenting Rosamunde.

This evening, Hook and I jaunted to the Mission so he and I could buy supplies for our first-ever sewing projects. Holla! Yes, you heard correctly: I’m taking up sewing(!) It’s true that my work in 7th-grade home ec. was less-than-passable (and that my shoddy performance on a variety of sewing projects convinced me that the fiber arts were forever out of the question), but the sewing seminar I recently attended bolstered my confidence thousandfold. So [“sew”], yes: this weekend, I’m going to sew something. I bought a pattern for an apron, but I might end up stitching hundreds of practice rows on old t-shirts. Or maybe I’ll follow directions (for once in my damn life) and start the apron. Time will tell.

This is true Berlin Currywurst. (Source: umami.typepad.com)

Rosamunde was a just a hop/skip/jump* from the fabric store, and you know that if Hook & I are within an eight block radius of Rosamunde**, we’ll be making a stop. I rarely visit the Mission location (because, doi, it is so far from my house), but I prefer this shop to the one on Haight. Why? BECAUSE THIS ONE SERVES FRIES! Fries and beers. It’s my self-determined no-drinking month so I didn’t have any beer(s), but I did munch on some fries. And a currywurst.

I never ate currywurst in Berlin — I couldn’t bear to deviate from my typical brat! — but Rosamunde’s version hits it home. Currywurst is just knockwurst served with curry ketchup. “Just” doesn’t do justice to this combination; curry ketchup is one of the Five Great Condiments. Slathered in special ketchup, served alongside a warm roll, peppers, onions, and the shop’s homemade sauerkruat (rife with caraway seeds), the wurst rivaled Rosamunde’s brat.

Yep: it was pretty much a perfect evening. I have high hopes for this weekend’s culinary doings — don’t wag your finger at me! I know I’ve relied too much on the WF cold bar, but I’ve got a few recipes to test and a trip to the creperie planned. Crepeland: that’s the coming-of-age drama I’m going to write…someday.


*By which I mean six blocks, but it’s cool.

**During the dinner hour, at least, or if either of us is having Major Sausage Hankerings.


[W]underdog: Dinner of Champs

The bratwurst on a whole-wheat bun (with horseradish mustard) + a side of tots.

Underdog (1634 Irving St.) is one of 5,000 reasons that I love San Francisco. I maintain a pretty balanced diet, but I’m also a fan of sausage — andouille, hot dogs, chorizo — you name it. What I’m not a fan of is nitrates, preservatives, and mounds of extra sodium. Enter Underdog, the friendly alternative to mass-produced sausage. Everything served here is organic, right down to the buns, sides, and condiments. Sure, “organic” doesn’t translate to “health food,” but at least I can feel good about not ingesting tons of chemicals with my meat.

Post chocolate festival, Hook and I needed some real food — you know, something besides sugar + butter. I’d been craving sausage for the better part of a week and it was a perfect evening for a walk through the park, so we chose Underdog as our dinner destination.

Hook is glad to be eating something other than chocolate.

Hook ordered the Spicy Italian and a Hot Link. I got the Bratwurst and a side of tater tots (to share). My Brat was mild-flavored and super juicy; I would have preferred more spice, but, with a large squeeze of horseradish mustard, the sausage was just about perfect. The tots were amazing: reddish-golden and crisped to perfection. Just beautiful dunked in ketchup. Organic tater tots cooked to order? Yes, San Francisco, you are the City of My Dreams.