When you see August (do not fail to pronounce it Owgoost) in repose you
involuntarily say, that is if you understand German, "Mir ist alles an,"
which is the German equivalent of "I should worry." When August is in
action you immediately get a thirst that nothing but a stein of cold
beer will quench. August is the pride of the Heidelberg Inn at 35 Ellis
street. All you can see from the street as you pass around the corner
from Market, is a sign and some stairs leading down into a basement, but
do not draw back just because it is a basement restaurant, for if you do
you will miss one of the very few real Bohemian restaurants of San
Francisco. Possibly our point of view will not coincide with that of
others, but while there are dozens of other Bohemian restaurants there
is but one Heidelberg Inn. Here is absolute freedom from irksome
conventionality of other people, and none of the near Bohemianism of so
many places claiming the title.
At the Heidelberg Inn one need never fear obtrusiveness on the part of
other visitors, for here everybody attends strictly to his or her own
party, enjoying a camaraderie that has all the genuine, whole-souled
companionship found only where German families are accustomed to
congregate to seek relaxation from the toil and worry of the day.
An evening spent in Heidelberg Inn is one replete with character study
that cannot be excelled anywhere in San Francisco--and this means that
everybody there is worth while as a study, from the little, bald-headed
waiter, Heme, and the big, imposing waiter, August, to the "Herr Doctor"
who comes to forget the serious surgical case that has been worrying him
at the hospital. Here you do not find obtrusive waiters brushing
imaginary crumbs from your chair with obsequious hand, nor over zealous
stewards solicitous of your food's quality. It is all perfect because it
is made perfect by good management. Here are German families, from
Grossfader and Grossmutter, down to the newest grandchild, sitting and
enjoying their beer and listening to such music as can be heard nowhere
else in San Francisco, as they eat their sandwiches of limburger, or
more dainty dishes according to their tastes.
One can almost imagine himself in one of the famous rathskellers of Old
Heidelberg--not at the Schloss, of course, for here you cannot look
down on the Weiser as it flows beneath the windows of the great wine
stube on the hill. But you have the real atmosphere, and this is
enhanced by the mottoes in decoration and the flagons, stems and plaques
that adorn the pillars as well as typical German environment.
It is when the martial strains of "De Wacht am Rhein" are heard from the
orchestra, which of itself is an institution, that the true camaraderie
of the place is appreciated, for then guests, waiters, barkeepers, and
even the eagle-eyed gray-haired manager, join in the swelling chorus,
and you can well understand why German soldiers are inspired to march to
victory when they hear these stirring chords.
But there is other music--sometimes neither inspiring nor beautiful
when heard in a German rathskeller--the music of rag time. If there is
anything funnier than a German orchestra trying to play rag-time music
we have never heard it. It is unconscious humor on part of the
orchestra, consequently is all the more excruciating.
But if you really love good music--music that has melody and rhythm and
soothing cadences, go to the Heidelberg Inn and listen to the concert
which is a feature of the place every evening. And while you are
listening to the music you can enjoy such food as is to be found nowhere
else in San Francisco, for it is distinctly Heidelbergian. We asked for
the recipe that they considered the very best in the restaurant, and
Hirsch, with a shrug of his shoulders, said: "Oh, we have so many fine
dishes." We finally got him to select the one prized above all others
and this is what Chef Scheiler gave us: