Despite living in PIttsburgh for most of my life, I've somehow managed to never eat at Max's Allegheny Tavern until recently.  \n\nMy initial impression of the restaurant was positive - the place had an old neighborhood feel to it, a small crowd was drinking at the end of the antique hardwood bar, and the German murals on the walls made me crave an icy-cold German lager with a stout head of foam.  I thought about how well German potato salad would taste with that beer.  So I grabbed a seat at the bar and eagerly awaited the first taste of my beer.\n\nAnd I waited...and waited...and waited some more - for over 15 minutes before someone came around to take the order.  Actually that isn't quite accurate.  Two employees came around - one to the end of the bar, and one behind the bar directly opposite me.  Both of them stared at me.  Neither one greeted me or asked me what I would have like to order.  I stared back, incredulously, and even made a \""what's going on here\"" palms-extended-upward-shoulder-shrug gesture.  Neither one took the hint.\n\nFinally a third employee came around the bar and took my order.  Great, I thought to myself, finally that beer.  She served the beer in a Mason jar.  WTF?!?  Who serves imported German lager at a German restaurant in a freaking Mason jar?  Max's does.  The beer was devoid of its head, likely the result of a bad beer pour and/or a less than perfectly clean glass (an endemic problem with Pittsburgh restaurants, in my observation).  I was sad.  I quaffed my beer quickly in an attempt to salve my irritation and opened the menu.\n\nMy first impression of the menu can be summed as follows: \""Uh-oh\"".  The menu is huge with a number of \""slow-food\"" stews and braises.  The restaurant is more than half-empty.  How can a restaurant prepare such a large number of menu items, including more than a few labor-intensive dishes, freshly every day and still stay in business when the place isn't even half-full?  Answer: They can't.  The food isn't fresh.\n\nI ordered the Wiener Schnitzel.  I love properly prepared Wiener Schnitzel.  Made with fresh butterflied veal breast, slightly pounded and seasoned, well-coated in fresh bread crumbs, and pan-fried in clarified butter until golden brown on the outside and juicy on the inside, Wiener Schnitzel is the ultimate comfort food.  \n\nSadly, Max's Wiener Schnitzel had nothing to do with properly prepared Schnitzel.  The veal was super-thin, had a texture that strongly suggested it had been mechanically processed, and tasted as if it was pre-breaded and frozen.  It wasn't pan fried either.  The breaded, frozen, puck was simply dropped into a fryolater - where the breading puffed out and fell off of the meat in places (which doesn't happen when the cutlet is resting against the cooking surface under its own weight as when the dish is properly pan-fried).  The edges of the sad Schnitzel had curled up and it looked a horrible mess on the plate.  Curly Schnitzel?!?  My stomach dropped.\n\nMy sides, German potato salad and braised red cabbage, were equally awful.  The German potato salad had an unnatural glossy sheen - the kind that typically comes from bottled sauces that contain high fructose corn syrup.  The \""bacon\"" in the dressing was nothing more than tiny flecks of some sort of processed, possibly faux, \""meat\"".  The potatoes were suspiciously uniform in thickness and roundness - exactly the homogeneity that is found in pre-peeled, pre-sliced, vacuum-sealed processed potatoes.  It was a gluey, sickly sweet, mess.  I didn't have more than a bite or two.  The braised red cabbage didn't taste fresh - it tasted like it had been sitting in a steam table for a day or two and my order was its last chance to be eaten.  \n\nMax's Allegheny Tavern bills itself on their web site as, \""The Best in German Fare.  The Best in Service\"".\n\nThat's total bullshit.  It's awful - both for service and fare.\n\nIf you want good, authentic, German fare (in which the Schnitzel is properly pan-fried to order and delicious), join the Teutonia Mannerchor down the street.  \n\nI'll never return.