Robyn Baitcher Wechsler’s Currywurst & Bratwurst, 120 First Avenue.

It was the second-to-last day of Oktoberfest at Wechsler’s, a midget wursthaus — more like a wurstkiosk — at 120 First Avenue, between Seventh Street and St. Marks Place. Andre Wechsler, the eponymous owner, had his barman/waiter/busboy pour a draft of Schneider Weisse beer and another of Radeberger Pilsener. Each arrived in a glass from its own brewery. It would be an insult to Andre to say the foam on each was just so — of course it was. Still, my friend Birte Kleemann, who ran an art gallery in Berlin before becoming director of The Pace Gallery in Chelsea, had a probing question: “Are these German strength, or American?” The typical alcohol level of German beer, Birte explained to me, was 5.45 percent, slightly above the strength of the dishwater served in this country. Andre solemnly averred that the provenance of both was pure German. “Actually,” he added, “the Schneider Weisse is 6.2 percent—special for Oktoberfest.”
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