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Blaue Gans, or “Blue Goose,” is what Austro-American impresario Kurt Gutenbrunner humbly calls a wirtshaus, kind of like the German version of a British pub—simple and unpretentious almost to the point of affectation. Other than some carved wooden geese and new signage in the window, and a long black communal table where his artsy pals like to cavort, the old Le Zinc space is virtually unchanged. Consider it a Bavarian Balthazar—a convivial spot where Tribeca families, their moppets in tow, rub elbows with expat artists, assorted epicures, and denizens from all walks of life. Foodwise, it’s a rustic version of Wallsé at a discount—if a marginal one. Nothing seems the slightest bit overdone. That’s especially true for entrées like backhendl, or “Austrian fried chicken”—accompanied by vinegary potato salad and sweet lingonberry jam, a nice counterpoint to the crisp, salty batter. Pork schnitzel is just as delicately breaded, remarkably light and greaseless. — Rob Patronite and Robin Raisfeld

The kitchen shuts down one-hour before closing time.

Blutwurstgröstl, $24; kavalierspitz, $25

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