After a long day of traipsing through theme parks yesterday, the last thing on my mind was driving my lazy bum downtown to eat "carnival faire" (I am not a foodie) from a factory-looking place called "worst coochie" (my pronunciation of the word was quickly corrected by my sausage mate). Gripes aside, I gave in and stood there ready for sausage (isn't that a boyscott sub-motto?)
I was completely and utterly bowled over. From the simple decor to its He-Man-Foodie-Haters Club vibe, this restaurant fit the bill on all points. The room was filled with neighborhood regulars who look like they stumbled into the flat from a neighboring gallery or a drug orgy down the street. An additional detail is its use of communal dining. Much like an army of monks stumbling into the restaurant, it seems almost fitting that everyone sit at the same long table. You'll never know who you'll sit next to and what the topic of conversation is while nibbling on a hot dog and gulfing down some beer.
One Mango Jalapeno Sausage and two Old Rasputins later it was closing time and I was told that I had my fill. This is serious business - this is serious stuff: Wurstkuche is...hold for it...perhaps on my 'top 5' list of restaurants in Los Angeles.
*Notice the use of NO phallic references throughout.
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