The first time I ever laid lips on authentic Wiener schnitzel was in Germany some 20 years ago, when visiting my sister, who had just married a Düsseldorfer.

Like so many other Americans, I expected a Wiener schnitzel to be an obscenely fat hot dog or sausage link. My naiveté quickly turned to bliss as I forked and knifed through a pounded-out, breaded pork filet blanketing the plate served with lemon.

Sis still resides in Deutschland, and during subsequent visits I developed a reliable benchmark for comparing schnitzel and other German fare to that cooked in the United States. Thus, my recent sojourn to Kaiserhof in Ocean Beach was long overdue.

Kaiserhof’s interior captures the homespun ambience of scores of traditional restaurants I’ve visited throughout Germany, beginning with the waitresses dressed in embroidered dirndls. Medieval-style coats of arms adorn the walls. Wood beams stretch across the ceilings. Linen-draped tables are set with meticulous German authority. And, beside one of the two main dining rooms is a clean and sizable “beer garden,” sectioned off nicely from the congested neighborhood traffic.

The appetizer selection caters to mainstream Americans (cheese sticks, crab cakes, shrimp cocktail and onion rings), with the exception of steak tar tare piled onto triangular cuts of German rye bread and topped with capers and diced pickles. Served with feisty mustard on the side, the ground raw sirloin was far tastier than its more understated French counterpart.

The menu also includes hardcore German favorites such as homemade bratwurst, Bavarian-style sauerbraten and the prized roulades of beef – rolled flank steak stuffed with bacon, carrots and a long pickle. The dish lived up to my expectations with its soft texture from extended cooking and a tangy filling that matched nicely with the savory brown gravy.

Schnitzels are available – Austrian style (veal) or in the classic German version using pork filet. My companion and I tried both, although it was the first time I was ever served schnitzel without the coveted encasement of finely grated breadcrumbs. Our disappointment was mildly compensated by the rich sauces crowning the filets – paprika-sour cream on the pork and mushroom-cream on the veal.

According to Paula Bolter, who owns the restaurant with her husband, Horst, the breading is sometimes eliminated in the old German recipe books when schnitzel is topped with sauce. “Perhaps because the breading turns soggy,” she suggested.

Had we known, we would have ordered either the plain German schnitzel or the veal Holstein with fried egg and anchovies, both of which are dredged in flour and breadcrumbs. Needless to say, the filets were thin and tender (the veal being more supple), and the sauces picked up the meat juices in the sautéeing process, adding to their favorable outcomes.

The homemade bratwurst was outstanding, a large link packing in very lean pork punctuated by marjoram, nutmeg, ginger and white pepper. It came in a pool of thin gravy made of pork jus, which we poured over a side order of long, wormy spätzle noodles that needed a touch more flavor.

Meal portions are generous, and you get to choose two accompaniments. The red cabbage struck a perfect, sweet-tangy balance from vinegar and apples. And a potato pancake we tried was crispy and speckled with fresh parsley. Simple, yet refreshing was a chilled cucumber salad dressed in fresh dill and mild vinegar – a common sight on salad bars in many traditional German restaurants. Dinners also include an excellent goulash soup, sweetened by a base of onions and tomatoes that gives way to cubes of tender beef.

Other menu items, German or otherwise, include beef stroganoff, beef goulash, roasted pork shank, calves liver and a “veal imperial” schnitzel topped with black forest ham and Swiss cheese.

A nurturing, made-to-order quality pervaded everything, including homemade apple strudel constructed with thick sheets of pastry dough and braised apples that weren’t sickeningly sweet. Bravo! And of course we couldn’t leave without slamming down a digestive shot of schnapps – a boozy blackberry distillation that left me yearning for that next trip to Germany.