"It was looked down at, but not anymore," Nolen said.
"Everybody's making it," said Hager. "Just look at all the places with house-made charcuterie."
In a tough economy, Nolen said, "Restaurants have gone from filet to hanger cuts of steak."
"That's right. You don't want to give your patrons sticker shock when they see the menu," Hager added.
"It wasn't always filet mignon or racks of lamb, you know," Nolen said. "Chefs have always liked inexpensive cuts. For one thing, a lot of times they taste better."
Nolen learned to make sausage when he was in high school, guided by his father, Ron, who was a noted chef in the Allentown area, and "an old German guy named Horst." Nolen earned his chops running the kitchen at Reading's private Liderkranz German club at the age of 23.
He readily admits he takes liberties with his recipes. "Sometimes we get Germans in here and they say that's not authentic," Nolen said. "But we serve hundreds of pounds a week, so . . . "
Not quite as spicy as a Polish kielbasa, Nolen's pork-filled bratwurst, flavored with caraway and marjoram, is nonetheless savory. Washing down a couple of links with a tall glass of dark, creamy Franziskaner Hefe-Weisse Dunkel is downright sensual.
"You're not talking about pairing wurst with a fine Chardonnay," Hager said. "It's gotta be beer."
In a town where so many names end in a vowel (Cannuli, Maglio, Fiorella, D'Angelo), Italian sausage will always be king. But as Oktoberfest kicks off in earnest this weekend, you'll find plenty of German wurst at local festivals and restaurants.
