Following in the footsteps of our good buddy and certified "tube dude" Geoff, I checked out Rosamunde Sausage Grill in San Francisco. I was new to the city, a real Johnny Come Lately, lil' kid new boots fresh off the highway with nothing but an unkempt beard a maniacal craving for encased meats. This joint does not disappoint, buddies.
I wrapped my meat hooks around the Weisswurst. A veal, onion and leak masterpiece recommended by the gent working the counter. He told me to put ketchup on it. My reply? "No dice newb." The dog was a flavorful taste explosion, accessorized with kraut, some spicy peppers and stone ground mustard. The real winner at Rosamunde is the grilled french roll. The perfect amount of resistance before busting the seams on a delicious dog.
That's a good looking sausage right there.
My pal Erin rolled with the Chicken Cherry. She let me nibble off the tip. I'm not a fan of chicken sausages, but this one had a nice bite with a clean, sweet finish. The kraut plussed up the sour. All in all? Not too fucking shabby.
Here's Erin deep-throating a quality dog. Her thoughts? "Shit is good, man." 'Nuff said.