When Freiburg Gastropub opened in 2015 on Monroe Street, our reviewer pronounced it “a sleeker, modern version” of a German restaurant, “without the half-timbering and kitsch.”
Now the pub has moved to the former Wisconsin Brewing Taphaus space on State Street, been renamed the Freiburg Taphaus, and has gone more the way of that half-timbering.
This is the mold of a Wisconsin tavern, itself a German immigrant: narrow, with a long bar and lined opposite with dark wood booths. Several screens show soccer, or, these days, the Tour de France.
The menu has contracted to match. Gone are the more inventive salads and most of the vegetarian entrees, as well as the more out-of-the-ordinary meat dishes. This time around the focus is on the fusion-y German-American appetizers — reuben rolls and brat stickers and a German poutine. There are a handful of sandwiches.
And then there are the “German Favorites,” the dinner entrees, the greatest hits of wienerschnitzel (breaded and fried veal), jaegerschnitzel (a pork chop), grilled wurst, German meatballs, roast chicken and sauerbraten. Rounding out the entrees are the not-so-German German mac ‘n’ cheese and a good old Wisconsin fish fry, served daily. This is heavy food, and you might think that ordering a sandwich is a wiser choice.
That will be true if the sandwich in question is the reuben, an excellent version with a thick, crumbly, very corned corned beef, no pre-sliced deli meat slices here. Go for it. The “Black Forest BLT” is just a BLT, though, with perhaps a little bit too much bacon and not enough L and T, although I will take this opportunity to once again trot out my little diatribe that BLTs are supposed to come on bread that’s been toasted, not grilled.
The hamburger, served on a pretzel bun, is a ½-pound patty made from Angus beef, and has good flavor; it holds its own against the average bar burger. For an extra $1, there’s extra zip in the Black Forest burger, which adds ham, Swiss cheese, grilled onions and mustard.
Linda Falkenstein
Brat stickers are fun, and pair well with a German import beer.
The “Madison Harvester,” the only vegetarian option other than salad, is not a successful sandwich. The grilled vegetables lack tang and are plopped between two slices of bread; this sandwich needs some kind of sauce to bring it together. While for $2 the kitchen will add goat cheese, that’s not really a sauce and is too heavy-handed.
Sides for sandwiches include a choice of a nice, crispy salt-and-pepper french fry, German fried potatoes (too greasy) or greens dressed with a tangy house dressing.
But as a friend and I divided our appetizer of potato pancakes (well peppered, with a bright lemon-tinged sour cream, but falling apart like hash browns despite the presence of onions and egg) — a server brought a platter of the German meatballs to a fellow sitting at the bar. The aroma wafted over to our booth. At last I understood the error of my approach. Embrace the Gemütlichkeit and go for the real German platters. Go big or go home, at Freiburg.
The German meatballs are delicious. They come with a craveable mushroom gravy unstinting in its inclusion of actual mushrooms. There are not-so-shy hints of cardamom. It’s all atop a base of spaetzle, the hearty egg noodle — really a demure dumpling. And it’s all a bit much, rich, greasy and totally fulfilling. I could eat that spaetzle and mushroom gravy until I turned into a clogged artery. The meatballs are almost beside the point. But not quite.
Wienerschnitzel and jaegerschnitzel are both served with a tart red cabbage and heaven and earth potatoes (mashed potatoes and apples with caramelized onions and bacon). Or go with the more unusual flavor of the sauerbraten, a vinegar-braised beef.
If your table is in the mood for just appetizers and beers, know that the tap list is weighted to traditional lagers and pilsners; hop lovers may be disappointed. The brat stickers are fun — fried wontons stuffed with crumbled bratwurst, though the most flavor zip comes from their drizzle of the house mustard. The German poutine may kill you, but it combines the best of the best of the menu, all atop the seasoned fries: schnitzel bits and cheese curds are topped with that rich mushroom gravy and the delightful lemon sour cream.
Is the revised Freiburg more in tune with the tastes of the times? The menu is — there’s no way around it — an indulgence, calorie-laden. Still, if this be treason, make the most of it.
Freiburg Tap Haus
107 State St., 608-204-2755; $5-$16.
11am-midnight Sun.-Thurs., 11 am-2 am Fri.-Sat.
