For those breathless with curiosity as to the Cafe Liebling (or Liebling Cafe) interior, I was recently back in Helmholtzplatz with a camera. One wouldn't expect lentil soup in July but it's been that sort of summer, sadly, making my voice dip in regret when talking to visitors who read my springtime exulations of how they'd adore Berlin come June.
But the soup was aromatic with herbs and my tabletop matched my Nabokov perfectly, and eventually I even left the shady interior to join the ranks on the sidewalk, shivering ever so slightly in my cardigan but thrilled to see Donna again. (This time the lack of a menu seemed less charming than irritating -- 'How much is that wine exactly, then?' -- but on Helmholtzplatz one needs must forgive places their pretentions.)