Berlin Reified: Food, design and life in Berlin

Butternut squash in Berlin

Oh, I searched, and for a long time the Vietnamese shop near Gaudystraße was my reliable source, but when they scaled back their produce selection I was out in the cold again, left to the vagaries of the Kollwitzplatz market, trolling through the half-dozen stands seeking the butternut squash I craved.

Then last Saturday, desperate to duplicate my mom's famous bhaji for Alistair and Sabine, I cycled to Helmholtzplatz more or less on a whim. Alongside the fetching little hokkaido squash at Gerd Carlsson's stand were four robust butternut squash, reasonably priced at €1.90 per kilogram; Carlsson reassured me that he has the squash in stock every week. So there you go!

After the crush of Kollwitzplatz, the Helmholtzplatz market is comfortingly small. You'll find Carlsson's stand at the northeast end beside the fishmonger's (opposite a stand that also has butternut squash, but at slightly higher prices). The Helmholtzplatz market is open Saturdays from 9 to 4 or 5.

(And because this site is already threatening to become Grapes Reified, let me also recommend - surely for a few weeks only! - the French muscat grapes also on sale at his stand.)

Update: Mid-October now, and I spotted two full crates of butternut squash in the Prenzlauer Berg BioCompany. Fingers crossed they keep stocking it, though I'll buy from Mr Carlsson as long as his supply holds out.

Let me see yr war face

Strolling through Mauerpark

Fall in Berlin

Sunday, autumn equinox, fall in Berlin...

Vineyard peaches (Weinbergspfirsiche)

And if you'll allow me to exult over foreign fruit for another day, the vineyard peaches (or Weinbergspfirsiche) that our vintner-cum-landlady was selling were a marvellous find, the blood oranges of the peach, I found myself thinking, as I sliced one open on Saturday morning. (The night before, we'd bought four for a euro out of the vintner's cheery green truck, parked in the courtyard.) Fresh, they're best for the surprise of their vivid red flesh, but their obdurate tartness means they're best enjoyed converted into jam. We bought our jars from an elderly woman just up the road from our holiday flat; she had a modest assembly of bottles displayed on her doorstep, and we had to knock twice before she came out to take our money. Oh, city kids exulting in The Countryside...

As a few have asked, I can heartily recommend the decidedly unstylish but clean and comfortable holiday flats offered by the Mainzers: We took the smallest one (which has the biggest balcony), and thought it a steal at 27 EUR per night.

Tiny grapes freshly picked

Hmm, well, I suppose going onto the balcony to pick a handful of tiny grapes from the vines growing on the rail must run a close second. I don't mean to gush, but really, being in wine country during the harvest is just extraordinary.

Along the Moselle

Really, is there any happier moment than walking through vineyards alongside a river and helping yourself to wild grapes massed on an old stone wall, to eat while admiring the view across the water?

For anyone considering a weekend away, I can really only sing Ernst's praises.

Federweisser (Wine in the making)

I can only echo Hungry in Berlin's enthusiastic words on Federweißer, which was just coming into the shops during my recent visit to the Moselle Valley. Those in Germany briefly should be especially vigilant about seeking out this speciality: Federweißer's cloudy golden depths capture the essence of late summer, and it is rare to drink something so changing; I like catching it just before it tips into tartness -- more or less straightaway after buying a bottle -- when the muscat note is still dominant. To buy, my favourites so far have been the bottles sold at the BioCompany and those stocked by my beloved neighbourhood wine shop Nix Wie Wein. (While a rich onion tart is the traditional pairing, I've grown fond of Federweißer alongside cheddar.) And do rush - I meant to write about Federweißer when I began Berlin Reified last fall, but by late October it had already disappeared...

Illustrative 2007 (Berlin)

Encountering Lorenzo Petrantoni's massive, intricate black-and-white tick-tocking wall was easily the most thrilling moment in Illustrative Berlin 2007; I was also fond of Olaf Hajek's apes and lilies, as indeed many are.

Prater revisited

The Prater takes on a poignancy as summer draws to a close. Eat your corn on the cob while you still can!

Herb salt, or What to do with summer's bounty

It's incomprehensible to me why I never posted on my balcony herb garden, though poking the seeds into the earth and watching them sprout, then flourish was such a profound joy to one who'd never planted anything before. Now my vision takes on a preserving cast, seeing the cold coming, and on a whim, really, I whirled rich handfuls of parsley, rosemary, sage, thyme and lemon thyme with coarse sea salt in the food processor, and this was the fragrant result. So far  I've sprinkled it onto tomatoes and potatoes, with infinite applications to follow in the fall.

Art Cube at the Haus am Waldsee

What a vision of home! The Art Cube at the Haus am Waldsee was perfect spotted in a clearing through the late-summer trees, and the view above was to die for, though the bathroom (I found myself thinking heretically) felt like nothing more than one you'd find in an Ibis hotel room. But still, for those who read this late, it must be lovely when the surrounding trees go autumnal.

Curry leaves, or Finding Asian ingredients in Berlin

Oh, the Asian market in Kopenhagener Straße is such a gem! The latest thrilling developments are 1) packets of khadhi limba, or fresh curry leaves and 2) spiffy aluminum Vietnamese coffee makers for 1.99 alongside packets of Trung Nguyen coffee for 99 cents and cans of the beloved Longevity-brand sweetened condensed milk.

Kopenhagener Str. 2, Berlin-Prenzlauer Berg (map)

Beets (thinly sliced)

Dinner at Aine's made me reconsider root vegetables. At BioCompany the other day, I hesitated over the beets and kohlrabi, then bought both. Really, who knew thin slicing rendered these orbs delectable without even the briefest steam? The other morning I had just the beets in slices this side of translucent; carpaccio it ain't, but perhaps next time they will find themselves daubed with crème fraîche and dill, and then we'll talk.