Spaetzle are egg noodles that are often served as a side to some entrées or can be purchased as a children's menu item at the Hacker-Pschorr Wirtshaus in Regensburg, Germany. (Lydia Gordon/Stars and Stripes)
When it comes to me and mealtime, nothing beats a crowded table. The kind where chaos blends with the beauty of passing plates, clinking glasses and conversations colliding with hearty laughter.
At Hacker-Pschorr Wirtshaus, tucked into Regensburg’s artsy city core, several visitors and I recently felt that euphoria during an afternoon out together. From my spot at the head of the table, I had a front-row view of what the spirited biergarten did best.
Between overlapping banter, the room quietly reminded everyone where they were. The location, which was home to a monastery between the 13th and early 19th centuries, first became a tavern in 1896, according to the restaurant’s website.
Murals old and new line the walls, framing a space where past and present comfortably coexist. Hacker-Pschorr felt special, even on a first visit.
Renovated in 2001 to the beer garden and restaurant seen today, the place still carries its history in intricate crown molding and a homey warmth that resists being polished away.
While much of the menu is traditional wirtshaus fare, expectation still lingered. The moment carried extra weight especially for my mom, back in Germany for the first time since the 1990s.
The trip had become a mission to re-create a Munich memory: schnitzel, spätzle and a hefeweizen good enough to think back to fondly.
For others at the table, German food wasn’t a constant. Best friends visiting from their duty station in South Korea rarely encounter these flavors, and the same goes for my parents in the U.S.
As pints of local brews were raised, the table quickly found common ground. The hefeweizen won almost immediate approval for its smoothness, while another friend lingered just as happily over a Münchner Gold Bier, another Bavarian staple.
Moments later, hefty plates were served. And my mother’s dream was complete when our kind waitress, Ulrike, handed my mother her order, all the while succeeding at making my almost 3-year-old niece giggle extensively through her contagious energy.
For my father and me, pork steaks blanketed in mushroom sauce and anchored by spaetzle brought shared praise and smiles.
Equal parts server and entertainer, Ulrike kept the table lively, filling the hour-and-a-half with cheer as she practiced her English and ensured that the noise never dipped below joyful.
Brats, sauerkraut, schnitzel, potatoes and bread slowly disappeared from the table, passed and shared until plates were nearly bare. No one was eager to waste a good meal, and at a table like this, sharing felt less like a rule and more like instinct.
Even my niece, who is famously headstrong about what she eats, polished off her spätzle without debate.
At Hacker-Pschorr, our group was welcomed as easily as the next round of beers, and that mattered just as much as what was served. I left full in every sense of the word.
Hacker-Pschorr Wirtshaus
Address: Neupfarrplatz 15, Regensburg, Germany
Hours: Monday through Saturday, 11 a.m.-11 p.m.; Sunday, 11 a.m.-3 p.m.
Cost: Appetizers, under 10 euros; entrées, 12 to 25 euros; drinks, 1 to 6 euros
Information: hacker-pschorr-regensburg.de; +49 9415840455