Curry & Co

Travelog: Dresden – Curry & Co Currywurst


After having the best durum we’d ever had (also our first), we languidly sauntered around the general locale of our next destination, wandering into shops and sampling alternative music playlists, taking pictures by outrageously painted walls and checking out the menus of other places, all to reignite our appetites before we transitioned to Curry & Co. If it weren’t for the fact that we were to leave the next day, I do not think we would have even been thinking about food let alone be considering a second meal so soon after the first

Our non-catatonic dispositions were the positive results of our decision to share the durum wrap. We did, however, have to deal with the embarrassment of sharing our durum between ourselves while a skinny lady and her young daughter still in school uniform were having one each to themselves. It was a difficult pill to swallow for my competitive nature, especially since everyone around us seemed to be consuming the monstrosities as if they were no big deal. The locals were truly on a different level.

Curry & Co was a small place with a few tables, a couple of fridges up front, a high stooled bar opposite the fryers and grill plates, and a cash counter manned by one extremely relaxed looking employee. It’s a small place, found easily enough by simply walking down Louisastraße, tucked in between two larger restaurants that looked just as appealing. The decor was predominantly arranged in the colours of their banner: black, white and yellow, with the feel of one of those niche coffee shops one looks for specifically. Most tables were already occupied when we entered, so we took up places at the bar. There was one table taken by a group of preteens, sitting really close and having a good time, their laughter and liveliness made the place seem even more charming than it would have been without them. It was quite the chill atmosphere.

We looked into the fridge as we entered and did not recognise any of the brands on show. Maddy, taken in by the unfamiliarity of the beverages, added two new colas to our order of classic currywurst and chips. There were a few unique and adventurous sauces and styles on offer, much to the credit of the place, but I thought that if we were going to have a currywurst, going traditional would be the only way to redeem the bad reputation the dish already had in our minds.

These were certainly different, but only because Curry & Co did several small things right. The curry powder and ketchup combination, one that requires of the percentages to be on point was spot on. Too much ketchup makes it taste like mundane sausage and ketchup with a faint hint of curry powder, and too much curry powder, I imagine, would be overpowering and dry out the mouth. When the two are evenly dispersed, as they were at Curry & Co, one experiences an intriguing interplay of sweetness and spiciness that enhances the textural draw of the sausage. The wurst on its own was juicy, fresh off the grill and chopped evenly for Maddy and I to share. The chips were up to standard, plentiful and with the correct balance of fluff and crisp. Maddy gave the thumbs up of approval, nodding her head in appreciation.

I was not too keen on the colas though, but then again, I’m not much of a cola drinker anyway. Maddy on the other hand thoroughly enjoyed them, so I traded what was left of mine for some more of her chips. With currywurst regaining its lost lustre to its name and our bellies well contented thanks to Curry & Co, we paid our bill which was about 5-6 euros (pretty cheap) and headed for the door.

That night we decided to take the night bus around the city, a final tour before we left the next morning. We had done all the recommended tours that we could afford so we thought it would be a nice way to cap everything off. Though we did enjoy all the sights on the bus after nightfall, we did have to experience the whole thing under unexpected rain and in German, since for some reason, the English version that we were listening to suddenly made the shift mid-sentence through a long historical evocation. It didn’t make much difference to be honest, it was a sign that Germany had accepted us as its own.


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