“WELCOME TO THE OLDEST BRATWURST KITCHEN IN THE WORLD,” SAYS SOFIA HILLEPR ANDT, AS I DUCK BENEATH THE WOODEN CEILING BEAMS.
“This wood was cut in 1379.” One of the beams has a cushion attached to it, no doubt because it’s concussed a patron or two. On the walls are weathered pots and pans, alongside knick-knacks and trinkets such as old beer mugs and faded portraits.
Sofia runs Zum Gulden Stern, a 600-year-old bratwurst kitchen, or bratwurstküche, in the heart of Nuremberg’s Old Town. The building is so aged the brick facade leans inward, creating a simultaneously unnerving yet cosy ambiance, which pairs well with the open kitchen’s flaming grill. It’s just before noon and already the restaurant is buzzing with hungry diners. A few dozen sausages are sizzling on the grill. In Nuremberg, you don’t just order one sausage, you order a dozen, and as well as grilled you can order them smoked or ‘sour’ — stewed in white wine, vinegar and onions.
In Germany, sausage varieties are like dialects, and your preference often tells a story about where you’re from. Müncheners love weisswurst (white sausage); beef sausage is the choice in Frankfurt; and Berliners, especially, love currywurst, an uncased pork sausage coated in curry sauce. Meanwhile, Franconia — a region that predominantly encompasses the northern
