Beer gardens. Yes, pretty great places.
Brunch. It has its moments, too.
Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you combined the two...
...and then you realize it’s just a brunch in a beer garden. Nice, but not really that big of a deal.
But for some reason, when you situate the whole crazy, mixed-up shebang on top of one of the city’s most famed sausage shops... suddenly your interest is piqued.
Introducing The Rooftop at Gene’s Sausage Shop, an ongoing experiment in Lincoln Square alfresco dining, German bier and, starting this Sunday: Bloody Marys.
Gene’s, of course, is a trusted name in sausage-ing—they’ve been cranking it out for nearly 40 years. Two years ago, they opened a market—it looks like a Wisconsin lodge mixed with a German castle—and shopping for jalapeño bratwurst, gypsy ham or Sheboygan sausage has never been the same. (Your holiday gift baskets are now legendary.)
Yet something was missing: a place to drink beer and eat sausage during lunch on Sunday morning. So this space, filled with flowers, tomato plants and a pergola, addresses that oversight. Treat it as you would your own deck. Order an omelet filled with house-smoked sausage. Down a Bloody Mary. Summon schnitzel platters. Drink a stein of imported beer.
But remember: it’s strictly BYO lederhosen.
Brunch. It has its moments, too.
Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you combined the two...
...and then you realize it’s just a brunch in a beer garden. Nice, but not really that big of a deal.
But for some reason, when you situate the whole crazy, mixed-up shebang on top of one of the city’s most famed sausage shops... suddenly your interest is piqued.
Introducing The Rooftop at Gene’s Sausage Shop, an ongoing experiment in Lincoln Square alfresco dining, German bier and, starting this Sunday: Bloody Marys.
Gene’s, of course, is a trusted name in sausage-ing—they’ve been cranking it out for nearly 40 years. Two years ago, they opened a market—it looks like a Wisconsin lodge mixed with a German castle—and shopping for jalapeño bratwurst, gypsy ham or Sheboygan sausage has never been the same. (Your holiday gift baskets are now legendary.)
Yet something was missing: a place to drink beer and eat sausage during lunch on Sunday morning. So this space, filled with flowers, tomato plants and a pergola, addresses that oversight. Treat it as you would your own deck. Order an omelet filled with house-smoked sausage. Down a Bloody Mary. Summon schnitzel platters. Drink a stein of imported beer.
But remember: it’s strictly BYO lederhosen.
