Hallo Berlin


We were confused right from the beginning. The giant awning outside this joint reads “Hello Berlin.” Now, we figure “hallo” is German for “hello,” but someone at the printing company must have really f’d up. Then we walked in and saw the crumby take-out counter and the smallish inside space–complete with picnic tables and umbrellas (inside?). To be honest, I haven’t really trusted those Germans since the whole ‘final solution’ thing, and their food generally puts the fear of god into me. (My ‘heil dinner!’ joke didn’t go over very well with the waitress.) Why would I want to eat veiny meat packed inside intestine? So I was convinced by my party to order the Hallo Berlinone thing that wasn’t made of pig or calf. Subsequently the waitress (who wasn’t all sunshine and smiles) brings me what looks suspiciously like a $10 hot dog–sans bun. So I ate my hot dog and side of German fries. I drank from the pitcher of German beer. It was a new experience, but next time I want to pay that much for hot dogs, there better be a guy in pinstripes throwing off a mound somewhere in the place. [MF]

626 10th Ave (bet. 44th & 45th St)