Alpine Haus: Authentic Bavarian Cuisine with Texan Twist in New Braunfels Hill Country

In the heart of New Braunfels, where the rivers wind through limestone and the Hill Country folds into itself like memory, there’s a building that’s stood for more than 160 years. Inside it, Alpine Haus serves something rare: a meal that feels like a return.

You step through timbered doors, past aged limestone walls and hardwood floors that creak just enough to remind you they’ve held stories. The scent of sizzling bratwurst and fresh-baked pretzels greets you first. Then the warmth of the room, the staff, the clinking glasses. It’s not just a restaurant. It’s a retreat.

Chef Klaus leads the kitchen with quiet mastery. The menu reads like a love letter to Bavaria: schnitzel—pork, chicken, or veal—pounded thin and breaded just right; sauerbraten marinated in red wine and slow-cooked until tender; potato pancakes crisped to a golden edge, served with applesauce that tastes like someone still peels the fruit by hand. There’s Rinder Rouladen, Schweinebraten, and Hungarian-style beef goulash—all made from scratch, all served with spätzle, dumplings, red cabbage, or sauerkraut.

For those leaning Texan, there’s grilled local meats paired with German sides that don’t feel like a compromise. They feel like fusion.

And then there’s the beer. Crisp pilsners, malty bocks, and a rotating selection of German imports chosen to complement the food, not compete with it. You raise a glass, and it feels like a toast to something older than you. Something worth preserving.

Alpine Haus doesn’t shout. It doesn’t need to. It invites. It holds space. And as the sun sets over New Braunfels, casting gold across the historic streets, this little Alpine retreat continues to serve not just food, but memory.

If you’re in the Hill Country, go. Sitting near the window. Order the schnitzel. Let the lager speak. And know that some meals aren’t just meals. They’re inheritance.