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More charm per square foot than just about any place in the Valley, with portraits of King Ludwig II, embroidered tablecloths, lederhosen hanging from the ceiling, and dirndl-clad waitresses carrying 32-ounce schooners of dark, German dunkel. Usually lit up like a fir tree at Christmastime, HM's got biergartens out back, oompah music on tap, and nearly every schnitzel known to man on the menu. Wurst-case scenario at a spot like this? Pigging out on piles of savory sausages, Liebling. Not exactly gustatory Götterdämmerung, eh?