Over in Sydney’s inner west, there’s a place you can go to source some of the most culturally rich beers and hearty plates of food this side of Europe – but it’s not a brewery staffed by bearded hipsters, nor is it a trendy new restaurant.
It’s the 139-year-old : a German institution set in the former Tempe Bowling Club that’s proudly none of these things. Instead, what the club offers is all of itself – tradition, community, genuine food and authentic German culture (without a restaurant chain name in sight).
“We are one of the most authentic places that you’ll ever come across when it comes to German food,” says Ben Zerbes, the club’s 37-year-old vice president.
We serve homely, German food that we have grown up eating. That’s want we want to offer.
“Don’t forget the beer,” adds the club president, Teresa Sonntag. “Both German food and beer are the big attractions here.
"We are not fine dining but we don’t claim to be. We serve homely, German food that we have grown up eating. That’s want we want to offer.”
Generousity and heart
Homely is right. If you come with an intention to feast, wear comfortable clothes. The food is hearty. The best example of old fashioned German generosity is the club's most impressive dish: a steaming, salt-crusted pork knuckle that’s the size of a human head. It sits on a gravy bed that slowly leaks into a neighbouring collection of red cabbage and mashed potato.
But if you're after a beef dish that epitomises home cooking, then your go-to has to be beef roulade. It's Sonntag's favourite: "I grew up eating beef roulade at home and it reminds me of when I was little". The dish features a rolled beef fillet seasoned with mustard. It's stuffed with onions, speck and gherkins, and served alongside warm parsley potatoes and red cabbage.
There are sausages and schnitzels on the menu, not to mention deep-fried camembert, bread dumplings, potato salad, sauerkraut and spaetzle. Of course, there are lighter menu options available, like a small sausage meal (choose from bratwurst, traditional Kransky or jalapeno cheese Kransky) or leberkase - German pork meatloaf. Both are served with mashed potato and sauerkraut.
“The traditional German food served at Concordia was one of the reasons I kept coming back to the club with my brother to eat,” says Zerbes, an inner west local whose father was German.
“We used to eat big, hearty German meals as a child-like pork knuckle – a dish that was passed down through generations of my family. Eating the food here, especially the pork knuckle, is like going back to oma [grandmother] and opa’s [grandfather] house for a meal. There’s chatting, community and lots of heavy, hospitable food.”
Culture and community
Beyond the Concordia’s pull of traditional food is a beautifully kitsch atmosphere. A familiar style of bowling club carpet, tables and chairs is lifted with decorations of faux flowers, lace curtains and national flags hanging from the walls. Deutschland maps, a traditional doll display and portraits of national icons dot the club. There’s also an impressive stain-glass window behind the bar serving traditional lagers and pilsners in stein glasses.
Sonntag explains that all of these decorations have meaning for the older members of the club with German, Austrian and Swiss heritage. They currently make up a quarter of the club membership base. To them, the memorabilia is a symbol of Germanic culture: a defining characteristic that weaves the Concordia community together like a great big family.
“The club has always been a meeting place,” says Sonntag, whose German mother and Polish father immigrated to Australia in the 1950s.
Inside the Concordia's decorative dining room: a warm atmosphere and community feel is what's kept people of German heritage coming back for decades. Source: Yasmin Noone
“When the club was first created in 1883, there was no clubhouse: just a group of card players at the home of August and Carl Sommer who founded the Concordia. From there, it evolved over time into a bigger club.
“Over the many years since then, the club changed locations about six times. During the war years, it closed down but reopened again later, and grew from there. The main part of its existence was in Stanmore, where the club stood for over 50 years.”
The Concordia at Stanmore was a destination where endless plates of German food was consumed, dances were held, singles met their partners, and German couples celebrated their nuptials.
But in the latter years of its Stanmore residency, the club faced some financial issues. So in 2003, the Concordia shifted again. But this time, the clubhouse and its membership moved to a new home opposite Tempe railway station, where it has remained ever since.
Beef roulade at the Concordia Club – rolled beef fillet stuffed with onions, speck and gherkins - served with parsley potatoes and red cabbage. Source: Yasmin Noone
A diverse future
Today, the Concordia is still a proud German meeting place, and it also stands for a lot more. The club is a reflection of modern Australia, a warming intergenerational mix of ages and cultures. It’s a place where everyone is welcomed: families with small children, 20-something beer enthusiasts looking to sample a German drop, people without German heritage wanting to expand their cultural horizons and diners interested in eating quality food.
“The word Concordia means ‘harmony’. So it’s really important to us that everyone feels comfortable, that there’s good food to eat and a great atmosphere.”
The traditional German food served at Concordia was one of the reasons I kept coming back to the club with my brother to eat.
A sense of homely comfort can be easily achieved here. After sharing a chat with Sonntag and Zerbes, a pilsner and a hearty dinner, it's time to exhale. Although the coffee and cake stand looks highly appealing, there’s no room for any more food.
Before bidding the Concordia Club ‘abschied’ for the evening, glances are cast around the dining room in the direction of other diners' desserts. On their tables are plates of apple strudels served with lashings of whipped cream and gorgeous servings of ice cream, presented in glass sundae cups – the fancy kind you’d get from oma’s kitchen cabinet, for sure.
A friendly member of staff comes over to collect the dinner plates, wiped near clean, from our table. He bends over and whispers: “there’s always more room for dessert”. Oh, go on then.
