Stein Bier Keller

You're walking into something that genuinely feels like it's been transplanted from Bavaria. All dark wood, long tables, and that particular continental chaos that happens when people are three litres in and the accordion's still going. It's the kind of place where strangers become mates by the second round, mostly because you're all crammed together on the same bench. The menu's straightforward—schnitzel that's properly pounded thin, sausages that don't mess about, pretzels the size of your head—but honestly, the beer's the point. Stein Bier Keller takes its lagers and wheat beers seriously, and they've got enough German bottles to make the selection feel genuine rather than novelty. It gets rowdy, especially weekends, but there's something brilliant about that communal drinking energy.