Bier International: Harlem’s first beer garden leaves out the lederhosen but still knows its brats

Bier International will inevitably disappoint drinkers looking for a so-called authentic beer garden experience. There are no overflowing steins of ale, no buxom barmaids laughing flirtatiously with red-faced Bavarians. Such wonderlands of lederhosen and faux Medieval, grossly Germanic décor do exist in Berlin, but they pander more to foreigners and the kitsch-obsessed than to locals. Bier International instead tries for something more real—it is a place for normal life to unfold, not a playground for escapists and make believe.

Opened in the waning days of summer 2010 nearby in South Harlem, Bier International remains off the student radar. Chris Pollok and Ousmane Keita formerly owned Lava Gina, a defunct “world music lounge.”

They’ve now moved out of Alphabet City but continue to serve an eclectic menu. Catfish tacos and Berliner currywurst—Bier International globe hops with abandon. Skirting the line between fun and infuriating, the menu lacks focus but never claims to zero in on Germanic cuisine. This is an international beer garden serving an appropriately cosmopolitan menu.

Bier International is filled with communal wooden tables—its minimalist white walls and towering glass windows bring the street inside the restaurant space, making every meal a celebratory neighborhood affair. Hip Harlemites and yuppies with baby strollers share bar space. The occasional student wanders in while waning sunlight fills the restaurant with a warm glow. As the night progresses, the decibels climb over Kiss concert levels, and the chance student settles into this new New York groove. The Harlem dining revolution is happening here, in this intersection of soul food devotees and Whole Foods fanatics.

Start with a basket of pretzels—like a bagel hot from the oven, a fresh-baked pretzel hits a perfect balance between caramelized crust and soft interior. Dipped in sinus-clearing mustard, these buttery bites of dough induce a carbo-loading frenzy. No harm—meals at Bier International quickly turn meat heavy.

Thüringer bratwurst lacks a little snap, but it still tastes like Germany extruded through a grinder and packed into delicate casing. The dish is worth ordering when it’s on the special sausage menu. Get it with a side of sauerkraut—smoky and puckery, peppered with porky bits, and piled into a gloriously fermented mound. If only ballparks served this kraut on foot-longs.

In Berlin, the tastiest currywurst hides around U-Bahn stations or in the covered markets called Markthalle. At Bier International, the Berliner currywurst comes locally produced—a mixture of pork and veal grilled and served with sauce on the side. Less piquant than Berlin’s best, this currywurst is still magnificent food for drinking and getting slightly drunk. A generous helping of not-too-greasy fries on the side helps mop up the mess.

Bier International also serves cold charcuterie. A rustic pâté covered in mushrooms comes with an assortment of European breads and mild mustard. Not poorly executed per se, the pâté feels a little out of place in such a boisterous beer hall. Here, the air feels liable to explode in conversation and sailor songs, to detonate in strings of cured meat and waves of lager.

For the truly famished diner, look no further than the “Euro Combo”—camembert, parmigiano, a salty blue, a rotating selection of cold sausages, fruit, and bread. Schmeared with whole-grain mustard and sweet orange butter and piled on a split open pretzel, rather ordinary cheese feels like an orgasmic cardiac arrest waiting to happen—a little death in the afternoon indeed.

From first dates to budding families, Bier International hosts a stratigraphic sample of life in SoHa. Cheap, friendly, and utterly unpretentious, Bier International is the bar Morningside Heights never had.