As I slogged into work the morning after Memorial Day, my bleary, weekend-weary eyes alighted on a most unexpected sight. The Schnitzel & Things truck, which has eluded me for months, was parked on 46th street, right in my lunch path. I canceled my morning bagel and an oh-so-subtle spring entered my step as I mentally prepared to schnitzel it up come lunchtime.

Schnitzel, a product of Austrian cuisine, is a boneless piece of meat that’s pounded flat, breaded, deep-fried, and served with a wedge of lemon. The most famous variation, wiener schnitzel, is made out of veal, but there are other varieties. The Schnitzel & Things truck serves chicken, pork and cod versions, as well as a toothsome-looking schnitzel burger, and bratwurst. Schnitzel can be ordered in a sandwich ($8) or as a platter with two sides ($10). Sides include potato salad, cucumber salad, french fries, chickpea salad, roasted beets, and mesclun salad (sample of 4 sides is $8).

I went with the chicken schnitzel platter. The cutlet was generously-sized, perfectly crisp, yet not terribly greasy–quite possibly ideal bookends for a schnitzel double down. A squirt of lemon, and generous dipping in pesto mayo sauce enhanced the otherwise plain flavor (ginger, olive, sriracha, and tartar sauces are also available, and absolutely essential). As for the sides, I enjoyed the roasted beets–the sweetness of the beets was cut by a crumbly layer of salty, rich feta cheese. The potato salad was… well, you’ll probably never see me get worked up about potato salad, but it was sufficiently tasty when dipped in mayo. In fact, my sole criticism with my lunch was I could’ve used more sauce.

I can only think of one other critique. I’ve always assumed food truck-eating should be, above all else, wallet-friendly. Platter or no, $10 is about the maximum that I can pay for truck fare without feeling chumpish. Even though it’s probably worth it, it’s better for my waistline if I don’t eat schnitzel too often anyway. Also, judging by the crowd of people during my early lunch stop, there will be a sizeable line following this truck around. But the queue moved swiftly, and they were handing out free, deep-fried balls of prosciutto and ricotta for folks to munch on, which certainly helps pass the time.

Schnitzel & Things truck
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Looking for a decent soft pretzel in New York City is a little like being thirsty in the middle ocean. There are pretzels everywhere, sold from ubiquitous street carts, but they’re completely inedible. Occaisionally one stumbles across handmade pretzels at a German bar like Loreley or Zum Scheider, but these places lack the get-it-and-go convenience of a cart. Sigmund Pretzel Shop, which opened last month, finally gives the Bavarian snack its due. A cafe and bakery headed by a former Bouley pastry chef, Sigmund sells fresh pretzels made on-site in small batches. Flavors include jalapeño cheddar, gruyere and paprika, garlic and parsley, salt, sesame, poppy, whole wheat, caramel, and cinnamon raisin ($3.00-$3.50). A choice of dip–whipped butter, herbed goat cheese, cream cheese, whole-grain mustard, honey mustard, or horseradish mayo–is included.  Pretzel sandwiches and donuts are also available.

The jalapeno-cheddar pretzel was by far my favorite. It was doughy and still-warm, with the cheese forming slightly-crunchy crust. Its lack of spice was forgiven since the whole-grain mustard dip added the needed kick. Although best eaten warm, it also travels extremely well. The cinnamon raisin pretzel with butter walked a fine line between savory and sweet, without being overly sugary or greasy. The passionfruit coconut donut was basically a thin doughy shell surrounding an intriguingly sweet-and-tart custard, but on the whole, I found it a little too sweet for a snack.

Seating is available, and with the smell of fresh-baked bread wafting from the kitchen and a row of windows overlooking Avenue B, this is a mellow place to stop for a quick bite. Try to go earlier to grab a fresh pretzel–they start selling out near closing time.

Sigmund Pretzel Shop
29 Avenue B between 2nd and 3rd St.
Tues-Sun 10am-10pm or until sold out. Closed Mon.

Currywurst, a dish so popular in Germany that it has its own museum, is saving me from a hangover this minute. It’s essentially sliced sausage, slathered in sweet-and-spicy tomato sauce, served with fries in a paper bowl. Currywurst is meant to be eaten on the run, preferably in the middle of an epic pub crawl. Grub like this quietly soaks up a night’s beer-drinking, and provides piece-by-piece nibbling over conversation. Piercing fast food with a dainty plastic fork strikes me as a uniquely European intervention–Americans would shove their food on a bun be done with it in a few chomps. But possibly it’s not a European thing at all. I was only on the Continent once, about 15 years ago, and don’t remember too much about the food, but I did see a man masturbate while steering his car through an 8-lane rotary around the Arc de Triomphe. It was a cultural experience I haven’t been able to shake.

Back to currywurst. Germany’s national snack has a base of operations in the East Village at Wechsler’s Currywurst, possibly the cleanest and tiniest dive in the neighborhood. With just a couple of tables, a row of high stools, and several German beers on tap ($3 mini-glassed of Reissdorf Golsch, $5 pints of Radeberger, and various $6 Hefeweizen), it never gets obnoxiously crowded and it’s a pleasant enough drinking spot without the wurst. But if sausages are what you’re after, they range from bratwurst, boar, lamb, and chicken to the namesake currywurst and fries (all $6). Silence your meat-hating friends with hearty sides like sauerkraut ($3), potato salad ($3) and soft pretzels served with sweet or spicy mustard ($3). Full disclosure: I only tried the currywurst and the soft pretzel–be forewarned that the hot mustard burns your nostrils and a little goes a long way.

Is the currywurst at Wechsler’s the real deal? Well, the owner is from Germany, I did overhear some German accents at the bar, and certain Yelpers seem to think so. But even though currywurst’s invention can be traced to 1949 Berlin, it never McDonaldized. Every vendor makes it a little differently and you’d probably have to do a lot of sampling in Germany to get a handle on what the good stuff is. If you just want to have some German snacks and raise a glass to Oktoberfest (which runs through Oct 4th), Wechsler’s is a much shorter journey.

120 First Avenue between 7th St. and St, Mark’s Place.
Mon-Thu 12pm-1am, Fri-Sat 12pm-2am, Sun 12pm-12am
Cash only