WILLKOMMEN: Owners Martina Psarras and Klaus Seidel spoil diners with friendly service and hearty fare at Martina's German Cuisine.
He said (grumpily): "I'm too tired to go out to eat."
She said (nonplussed): "Uh-huh."
He said (building his case): "I don't feel like driving."
She said (smugly): "It's Martina's."
He said (total surrender): "OK."
Even the most tired, most grumpy among us will feel refreshed once they sit down in the cozy family restaurant called Martina's German Cuisine.
That is, after you find it. Owned by Martina Psarras and her husband, Klaus Seidel, this jewel is hidden among the little shops and businesses at a shopping center called Lake Seminole Plaza, in Seminole. The night my companion and I were there, it looked closed from the outside because the parking lot was dark, and we could spot only the wisp of a lighted sign to guide the way.
But once you step in the door, you're in for a treat.
It only has eight tables. The restaurant's single waitress tends to you like you're family. Cuckoo clocks chirp out the hour, knickknacks from the old country decorate the walls. Menus arrive before you are even fully seated — big glasses of water materialize instantly while you're still testing chairs, checking out the plastic green-and-white tablecloths. (Do reserve a table because it is so small.)
Typical of a good German restaurant, it is almost obsessively clean. Germans take great pride in maintaining a sweet-smelling, tidy house or business. I know this from experience, having grown up in a family of German heritage with the surname Schwieder. And, I have fended off accusations from roommates and whatnot all my life that I am "too neat."
Anyway, we were both worn out from a hectic week, and it was such a pleasure to step inside someplace cleaned by somebody else, and let the staff at Martina's fuss over us and spoil us. The pace is leisurely, but orderly, which is another thing I am often accused of being too much of, but let's not get sidetracked.
We started with a small glass of the house wine, Kallstadter Scheurebe ($1.95) that we remembered from our last visit several years ago. It comes by the glass or the bottle ($17.95) and it's cold, not too sweet — and German. Didn't know German wines were any good? Test them out; you'll love them. There are a half-dozen wines on the menu, along with a good selection of beer. He ordered a bottle of German lager called Koestritzer ($2.95) that was rich, a tannic brown color — and frigid.
German cuisine as a whole is heavy, hearty fare. It is a cuisine uniquely suited to Germany's harsh winter weather. We found the restaurant's offerings to be very reasonable, but the early bird specials, available 4-5:30 p.m., are a particularly good deal. Early diners may order a small garden salad or a cup of soup of the day, plus entrees like Wiener schnitzel ($7.95) bratwurst on a roll ($4.45) or a veal loaf called leberkaese ($7.45).
We had forgotten about the early bird specials and arrived later, but the food is equally good no matter when you get there. We started with a potato pancake appetizer ($1.95) accompanied by a dish of sweet applesauce for dipping. We inhaled it. My companion moved onto salad ($2.45), a modest affair with iceberg lettuce and bits of vegetables topped with excellent homemade dill dressing.
Soup or salad comes with the meal, and on this night we were the lucky recipients of a delightful, fresh tomato soup, with big red chunks floating in the intense broth; and a lentil soup, the tiny legumes heated just right and not a single one exploded from overcooking, as you sometimes find with less vigilant chefs.
There, we paused for another round of drinks. The couple across the way from us was holding hands in a particularly tender manner. It was apparent that they were just getting to know one another, but were falling hard in love. They gave off good vibes, which seemed to affect everybody sitting around them.
They were still working on their main course when the Spitzweck dinner rolls arrived. The restaurant orders them from a bakery outside Berlin, and they are handmade, then flash frozen. After their flight to the U.S., Martina's thaws them, finishes baking them, and serves them hot and accompanied with cold, fresh butter. Delicious.
But the best was yet to come: Big, hefty plates, loaded with entrees. I had ordered the biggest dish on the menu, the house platter ($19.95): a sample of several dishes that included one bratwurst sausage, half a Wiener schnitzel and one slice of the veal loaf leberkaese, along with sauerkraut and cooked red cabbage, plus a pile of homemade mashed potatoes smothered with silken mushroom gravy. Oh, man.
My dining companion ordered vegetarian spaetzle ($12.95) — a noodle dish sprinkled with tiny vegetables, and it was OK, but clearly, non-meat dishes are not a natural fit with German food. Even if you order something seemingly benign, like a cabbage dish or potato salad, they are likely to be cooked with bacon to enhance the flavor, so vegetarians should ask when they order if the dish is made with meat products.
For dessert, there were several kinds of chocolate cake and huge ice cream desserts, but we preferred apple pie, daintily perched in a puddle of vanilla cream ($2.95). Its crust was crisp, its filling juicy, and with a hot cup of coffee to wash it down, there's not much more anyone could ask of a restaurant.
He said (happily): "I'm so full."
She said (calculatingly): "Hand me your wallet, and I'll pay the bill."
He said (total submission): "OK."
This article appears in Oct 18-24, 2001.