I’ve been posting on Foodie in Berlin for almost 3 years now.

306 posts!

I can hardly believe it.  I feel I’ve figured out my voice and my angle so it’s time to think about the design.

I would like a logo for Foodie in Berlin and a general restyle (and some help sticking all that stuff up on WordPress).

It’s street food – so the whole place is meant to emulate that.  I’ve eaten street food in Vietnam and the experience is really not complete without the stench of Durian, a table of expired canines piled high with an oblivious boisterous puppy frolicking happily next to it (which makes me think the Universe is not a nice guy).  Oh and your eyelids should be stuck firmly open with sweat, so that to blink means to exert super human power.  For good measure, there should be a street urchin circling around you trying to sell you a) a bottle of tap water, its seal deceptively but meticulously glued back together, b) what looks like the Rough Guide but inside contains blank pages (actually fell for this), c) a tour.

You’re not going to get authentic and that’s fine.  If you can still get good.

But can you?

There were some dishes I liked at Chi Sing.  Enough that I took some friends from London the winter before last.  But the food was bland at best and plain old bad in other cases.  And the service was obnoxious.  That’s how it was with Chi Sing, I never knew which side of the coin I was going to get.

What to expect with District Mot?  More of the same I believe.

I went for lunch, ordered three small dishes (€4 each).  The green mango salad was in fact ripe mango salad with what looked like Mickey Mouse ears, delicious all the same – although fish sauce and lime juice could probably make styrofoam taste good.A minimalist version of banh trang nuong (these babies can be epic) or rice paper tacos.  And finally because I’m not prepared to go weird (frog, silk worm) until I know what kind of kitchen I am dealing with: the deep-fried chicken wings.  Two of them which I guess would make them €2 each.  (Sharp intake of breath on that one)  And you know what?  The kitchen didn’t even bother to fry to order.  The wings were all unrendered fat (very unattractive in a chicken wing), grease and they were cold.  They got left behind.

Final verdict.  I might go again, if I was in a Transit state of mind (which I rarely am) and I was in need of a bit of fish sauce love.  I might get some really good food or I might get some passable food, it’s always going to be a toss up.

District Môt
Rosenthalerstr 62
Mitte

Even postal workers are in on it, you should have seen the maniacal happiness in the eyes of the postal worker while I ruffled around in my wallet to find my driver’s license.

“You’re not getting that parcel without your passport. No point looking in there – I need your passport – that’s the only way.”

I don’t take the bait (any more). I calmly (kind of) step out of line and take my time, without the heckling. Find it and line up again. Nor do I take (visible) offense when the same postal worker peers at the license – then me – repeatedly as if I am buying a gun, rather than picking up my Amazon book.

So in this context, I am dumbfounded – no other word will do – to find a place like the Thai Market. Where women (I didn’t see a single man cooking) sit cross-legged and cook. Where everything is either €5 or  €2.50.  Where dishes are washed in pails of water.  Fried chicken languishes in the sun.  Hands don’t get washed for the 5 hour duration that the women are cooking.

Of course if the horse meat scandal in Europe and the rat meat scare in China have taught us anything, it’s that we are  not as in control as we would like to believe, no matter all those inspectors going around swabbing door handles.  (Did I ever mention that fending off said health and safety inspectors and bribing her with brownies and granola was one of my jobs in my other life?).

All those times when I ate street food in Vietnam or Thailand I was fine – same can’t be said for Mexico I’m afraid.Still, it’s not going to last, even if it has been going on since the 1990′s.  I was talking to a friend who helps me with all things bureaucratic and he told me that it’s just a matter of time before the whole operation is shut down.  The neighbors have complained about the smell and the influx of people populating their piece of green.

Until then, papaya salad, fried fish, hand-roll and for dessert jelly and jackfruit with shaved ice and coconut.  Oh and ladies with dentures offering to give you a massage.

Weekends from 1, weather permitting.
Preußenpark

In fact, the other day I was thinking that were I not otherwise occupied with the twins and Layla, Berlin is ripe for opening something up.  Especially if you are an expat and you can tap into the mostly tame social community.  You don’t even have to spend money on a website since a Facebook page is more appealing to most – stating “we are a small enterprise that only spends money on stuff that matters”.But what about the other Berlin, one that is not aware about the “Rant” article the Exberliner wrote and the subsequent storm in a teacup (see comments in überlin) reaction it produced?

They eat just fine.  At places like Sayuri.  Where you can get grilled mackerel with skin so crispy it audibly shatters.  Where the rice is plump, resistant and shimmering with just enough vinegar dressing.I often have the Agedashi Tofu – which means the one chef has to leave his chilled cabinet of fish and go fry it to order for me.  And since I like it crispy, I normally burn my tongue a little.  The broth it’s in is too salty to drink but perfect for swiftly dredging the tofu through.  I can’t resist a bowl of rice topped with salmon.  I’m in love with the dressing on the salad as well.

I like that the adjoining tables are made up of the most diverse bunch of people.  An older Charlottenburg couple, two moms with prams and toddlers, a Japanese family whose kids are trying to stump Siri.

They’ve got a website but also a Facebook page.

Sayuri
Kurfürstendamm 137
10711 Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf
www.sayuri-berlin.de

Cocoro
Japanese Kitchen, Tea House & Coffee Shop
Mehringdamm 64
Kreuzberg
www.facebook.com/CocoroHeroes

I only know that their names are Shawn and Chris because of Mary Scherpe’s blog Stil in Berlin.  To me they were just: ‘the only guy in Berlin who does not (mercifully) have that hipster haircut’ and the other ‘one that wears a hat indoors’…who take my sugar away.Actually I am not that fussed about the sugar but I’m about to oust myself from the coffee closet of shame by admitting this:

Two shots of espresso in my small cappuccino is too much for me.

I feel like it’s stripping the enamel clean off my teeth and my normally happy burbling stomach goes kind of quiet, like “what was that?” before conspiring with my other organs to keep me running to the toilet – diuretic indeed!  Companion coffee is a minimal raised corner sharing a space with the Voo store.  They serve 3rd wave coffee (again let me pass you over to Stil in Berlin for more on that) and home-made jam tartlets which taste “just as they should” according to my French friend Marguerite.

The space is small enough that you can eavesdrop on the baristas conversation which for the portion of the day that I visited, centered on supermarket coffee.  And how it is “21 days off roast.”  (Is that good? Poking around on Home-Barista.com gave me no conclusive answers.)

Ok, so I’m getting side tracked.  Again.   – Really liked Companion Coffee. Two big thumbs up. And with summer upon us, it’s great to be able to duck off the busy main street into this pretty courtyard and enjoy a coffee (however many shots you want) outside.

Companion Coffee
Oranien Str. 24
Kreuzberg

It’s conceivable that somewhere on the invitation it said ‘black tie’ but I was too busy marvelling at the mysteries of PR lists.  I put on my pink corduroy trousers, (my favorite pair of orange jeans from Comptoir des Cotonniers being in the wash).  I paired them with a blue t-shirt and a blue and white striped sweater.
The extensive red carpet was my first clue that I might have gotten it wrong. The wall of big men, in black overcoats, earpieces and walkie talkies that closed in on me with a look on their face that said “The Brandenburg Gate is that way honey.” was the second one.  Inside, I find that they have kept the interior of former Uma intact, minus the central point of the horse which has been replaced by another sculpture.As I have arrived at 7:30, I initially have good access to the miniature signature dishes being passed around. Half an hour in though, it’s become a free for all. Tim Raue, himself is being jostled around by elegant guests with feral eyes shoving past him to get at the food.  If he’s here, who is in the kitchen, I wonder?  Daniel Lengsfeld, I find out.  (A former Tim Raue sous chef that went on to cook at a place called “Katz Orange“.)  Because Sra Bua (a Kempinski brand restaurant of which there are already 3 in existence  around the world) is merely interpreted by Tim Raue.  On most days you will find him on the pass at his 2 Michelin star Restaurant Tim Raue. A bit of salmon with grapefruit and vanilla is good enough to make me go in search of the elusive waiters.  They are all getting corralled mere baby steps away from the kitchen door and being stripped of all they carry.  Sometimes they forget the cutlery but that doesn’t stop people from grabbing plates.  The kitchen and staff are exerting near heroic energy to keep the food coming out.I manage to get a piping hot lamb curry and a vivid green spicy pea curry with shrimp. A bite of cheesecake and another of chocolate mousse with orange.It’s all delicious, even served in this fever pitch atmosphere that is an opening night at a posh restaurant in Berlin. Still, I can never really say what I think until I have handed over my own money. Which I will do, after a month or two when the hubbub has settled.

Sra Bua interpreted by Tim Raue
Adlon Kempinski Hotel
Unter den Linden 77,
Mitte 10117
www.kempinski.com/de/berlin/hotel-adlon/dining/restaurants/sra-bua-by-tim-raue-de-DE/

Equally confounding was my experience with Mogg & Melzer. A delicatessen in a former Jewish girls school, the hallway dressed in emerald-green tiles that go positively Wizard of Oz in hue when they catch the sun.  A place that serves a chicken liver creme brûlée.  What’s not to love?Except I found the pastrami sandwich dry and didn’t touch the bland coleslaw.  The volume of the music was better suited to “I’m home alone packing up the flat” than a public space where people were trying to socialize.

That was 3 months ago.  I went back again this week.  And although I was irked that the solitary waitress was asking about my drink order before I had even taken off my coat (for the rest of the meal she would be mostly MIA) the two women in the corner were sharing a shakshuka that appeared to be delicious.The menu reads really well.  I was torn between the golden beet & goats cheese salad (€6.50) and the Balsamic lentils, baked Crottin de Chavignol & wild herbs (€11).  (I’ll readily admit that when I read the descriptions, I imagined La Fromagerie calibre salads.) I went for the lentils with the crottin. I received a plate with a stingy ladleful of lentils, doused in too much balsamic vinegar served on a papadum (?) . The wild herbs turned out to be a few leaves of bagged salad so generic they hardly needed a special mention on the menu. I forgot the lentils came with a crottin until I started to prod what looked like a mummified egg yolk perched on top.
That was the crottin? This crottin? And if it was the famous Crottin de Chavignol of the Loire Valley, how had its mottled exterior turned smooth and why exactly was it orange – instead of white or even white with blue?

Can I chalk up my lukewarm experience to a dud dish?

Hmmm, see this is where I am skeptical.  If they were out of the right cheese or the wild herbs were struggling with the never ending winter they should have informed the customer or taken it off for the day.  Because if you are selling Barbara Streisand and she doesn’t show up, people will notice.  And although the popadum looked pretty enough, what was it doing on that plate?  And all this for €11?  In Berlin?  It’s kind of crazy.

It seems Mogg & Melzer and me is just not going to happen.  Sometimes what works for a lot of people (most of the Berlin bloggers love this place) doesn’t work for you – and that’s just all there is to it.

Mogg & Melzer
Auguststraße 11-13,
Mitte
www.moggandmelzer.com

It’s evolved considerably since my last visit.  The USP’s of the stands are distinct from one another and reel the Markthalle Neun consumer mercilessly hook, line and sinker.At Big Stuff Smoked BBQ, there is a line of hungry punters wrapped around the corrugated shack, as tinny Charleston music blares from speakers located somewhere behind the chicken wire that makes up a big part of the shop.  The Italian girl at the cashier is wearing a flat cap, her sweater sleeves are pushed to the elbows exposing a full arms worth of shirt sleeves – she looks like she should be hitching a ride on the back of a Ford Model T truck circa 1920.  I inch ever closer to the guy with the black latex gloves pulling pork apart for the sandwiches.

Sadly for me, Big Stuff has had a good day and they have sold out of everything except the pulled pork sandwich, so I miss out on the matt aluminum tray loaded with mounds of sauerkraut and squirts of bbq sauce (€12 for the regular, €16 for the large).  I get the pulled pork sandwich (€5.50) and a side of smoked potato (€1).  It’s good.  Not shredded to the point of resembling candy floss the way I experienced at Pitt Cue in London but delicious in a less complicated way.  My mother has her sandwich with a glass of ale from Heiden Peters. I appreciate that the brains behind Markethalle Neun have been considerate enough to provide ample seating, with feisty coloured plastic chairs so I don’t have to scan the hall long before finding somewhere to sit.Layla choses to get her sugar fix from Arte Sucre in the form of mini macarons (heaven preserve us from trending sweets: whoopie pies, cake pops, marshmallows – I mean you!). As I try to identify and retrieve the perennial coffee flavoured one, the French woman selling them begins to rattle off flavours: lemon, cassis, chocolate, mandarin mint…

Mandarin with mint? I think, intrigued as I immediately commandeer that flavour and take half a bite.  The other half I hand to Sylee.  ”These are good right?”.

Her eyes grow round. “Really good.” she agrees. I turn on my heel and return to Arte Sucre, this time to buy a pretty box of choux buns (6 for €7.80) to go with our excellent coffees from Kantine 9.

Where it occurs to me that we didn’t properly celebrate Layla’s 4th birthday in Dubai but that all will be forgiven if I buy her one of the macaron cakes I see being picked up from them.With the exception of one long-haired lass flashing a new Louis Vuitton bag – a sight that stops me dead in my tracks and leads me to exclaim: “Wow, is she lost?” the place is dead on trend for Berlin.  But don’t let that put you off, I went there with bootleg cut, rhinestone button True Religion jeans and no one stopped me at the door to ask me to change into frayed shorts or you know – whatever Berlin is wearing from the waist down these days.

Also FYI this Thursday night the market will be hosting a street food fair.

Big Stuff Smoked BBQ and Arte Sucre at
Markthalle Neun
Eisenbahnstrasse 42/43 – Pücklerstrasse 34
Kreuzberg

Put it this way; it’s the thing I was most looking forward to eating upon my return to Berlin.

There is trout, char and squid but it’s the mackerel I’m here for.  It’s flavourful flesh stands up effortlessly to strong flavours and it takes to any number of combinations as long as they too are robust.  It can take the smoke raising up from the coals, until its silver fresh turns to copper riddled with black blisters.  The guys at Steckerlfisch are generous with the salt and there is a shower of paprika besides.  When the fish is ready, it is ‘plated’ on some thick white paper.  With a sploge of seaweed by its tail, some coarsely chopped red onion, another blob of dill mayonnaise underneath the gills, horseradish, lemon wedges and a white semmel roll sporting smoky grill marks and making even me (not a lover of the semmel) to devour them hungrily.  The composition is one I might find in Layla’s drawings and that adds to the appeal.  
Did I mention that if you look closely, you will spot some dried flower petals strewn along the fish?

It’s perfect in composition and execution. One of my favourite things to eat in Berlin. And at the end, you can help yourself to the licorice fish in the plastic tub.
Steckerlfisch & Co
www.steckerlfisch.com
Wednesday: 10:00 – 14:00 Winterfeldtplatz
Thursday: 12:00 – 17:00 Breslauerplatz
Friday: 12:00 – 19:00 Arkonaplatz
Saturday: 10:00 – 16:00 Winterfeldtplatz