Berlin Reified: Food, design and life in Berlin

Mutter Fourage (Garden cafe @ Wannsee)

And when the gorgeous weather seems to stretch on forever, then it's time to board the S-Bahn and finally make the journey down to Mutter Fourage. David and I were sure any Slow Food affiliate would be worth the trip, but were doubly pleased to see their lunch menu was exclusively vegetarian, and packed with dishes each as tempting as the next. After very careful consideration we opted for the creamy potato and black salsify gratin paired with the best salad I've had since our friend Áine was last in town, and decided that we'd have to revisit this garden center/cafe/organic grocery shop/concert venue/art gallery later in the summer.

After your meal, be sure you visit the side garden with the chickens in their tidy coop -- and you might take a further leaf from our book and unpuzzle the bus schedules to swing by the Max Liebermann Villa before heading back to the city center.

Mutter Fourage, Chausseestraße 15a, Berlin-Wannsee (map)
Tel. (030) 805 83 2 83
Open daily from 9am - 7pm (10am - 6 pm from October-April)

Cake redux

No sooner posted than (re)visited: Cake was on my mind after writing about it yesterday, so when we were leaving the market and David suggested Albrecht's, I proposed Cake instead. Don't you just want to dive into these creamy berry-studded layers?

Note that they also do cakes to take away, and birthday parties too. I haven't had a birthday party since I was tiny and am daydreaming of one for my 30th; Cake is definitely on the short list. Readers, any other ideas of places (cafés or otherwise) that would shine on a May afternoon?

Cake!

After a quiet start about a year ago, Cake seems to have blossomed nicely, thanks in part, no doubt, to the patronage of a Zitty reporter who's mentioned the place in several issues now.

Snapping a shot of my cake (marizpan/chocolate/vanilla) I frowned a bit, realizing it wouldn't look particularly spectacular, but then, that's not really the point. In contrast to the frosting-as-decoration model followed by many bakeries I've visited in Berlin, the vanilla cream layers in my cake are as light as a dream, and as simple: vanilla, cream, a bit of sugar, nothing else, no butter and certainly no stabilizers to leave a chemical buzz on your tongue.

And so, though I was certain I wouldn't manage it, the slice disappeared with alarming ease.

Cake, Choriner Str. 14 (map)
Tel. 0176 2715 7525
Open Wednesdays to Sundays noon to 7 pm

Chinese dumplings (Wok Show)

After reading Yvonne's entry on Wok Show I found myself consumed by thoughts of those Chinese dumplings, until there was nothing for it but to trot up Greifenhagener Straße that very evening. The dumplings were exquisite, though at first I was daunted by the twenty crescents filled with pork, shrimp and vegetables. I faltered at twelve, then fifteen, and finally managed all but one, which I left perched at the edge of the platter like an offering to the gods. (Do try to get a half-portion if you're visiting alone; the standard platter of 40 would be impossible to manage.)

My visit was too spontaneous to manage a photo, but you can catch a peek here, or just go yourself, as soon as humanly possible.

Wok Show China Restaurant, Greifenhagener Str. 31 (map)
Tel. (030) 439 11857
Open daily noon - 11 pm (from 5 pm on Tuesdays)

Piano Salon/Focaccia King

Amit Friedmann is singing at the piano salon tonight! David and I will definitely be there, and perhaps you will too? Swing by the Focaccia King if you'd like a pre-concert dinner: It might not be quite as very hip as La Focacceria, but the fresh doughy slices topped with all manner of veggie and non-veggie treats will keep you sated through the song cycles, and the gentlest man presided over the small shop each time I was there. Consider buying a brioche to nibble at during intermission.

Focaccia King, Danziger Str. 25 (map)
Tel. 30 40505210
Open Mon-Sat 8.30 am - 10 pm (but if everything's sold out, they might shut as early as 8 pm, so you might ring to check)

Salon sucré

Once Glatteisgefahr has been declared across the city, there's nothing for it but to hole up in your cozy neighbourhood French patisserie and ponder the many cakes, tartes and meringues lining the glass shelves. Sue was a bit skeptical about visiting Salon Sucré during the winter, but it was just the thing to peel off my damp pullover, climb onto a bar stool, lean on the radiator in the corner and sink my fork into two layers of chocolate genoise sandwiching a pale tranche of cheesecake, topped with the tenderest raspberries (perhaps scandalous in January, but there you are).

Our cakes disappeared in a thrice, but we lingered for hours, ordering the odd glass of Sylvaner, cup of tea, and duo of cassis meringues to justify our place. We caught up on everything, only pausing to listen to Eric explain the contents of the pastry case with unfailing enthusiasm to each new customer.

Cakes are a bit pricier than what I'm used to –– €4-5 each –– but portions are generous, and I'm always disarmed by a casual friendliness.

Salon Sucre, Görlitzer Straße 32A (map)
Tel: (030) 612 27 13
Open Thursday-Sunday 10am - 6pm in the winter, Wednesday-Saturday 10am - 6pm in the summer (in the liminal months, call ahead to check; I'll update if I discover the exact months; and note that last summer, at least, they were closed for more than a month around August/September)

Fresh pasta at pastaroom

Oh, fresh pasta is a bit old hat, but I couldn't resist the stairs leading down to Pastaroom's little den on Goltzstraße. I had just begun to survey their edited selection of pastas (eg ravioli stuffed with Steinpilze) when the shopman followed me down and began to explain how everything was made fresh daily, how they had to expand because customers wanted to eat the hot dishes on the spot, not cart them away, how it's been busier and busier now that they've been featured in Zitty, in the newspapers, on TV, even. So I suppose I'm coming late to that little parade (though mysteriously I can't hardly find anything on them on the internet, not even their own website) but still, these curiously chewy, curiously dense wedges of chili pasta were just the thing on Thursday night -- and it seems time for me to move beyond Prenzlauer Berg again...

Pastaroom, Goltzstraße 52 (map)
Tel. (030) 47981066
I didn't bother to copy down the opening hours, figuring I'd just check on their website, but as that's not working, I suppose you'd do well to phone; I imagine they'd be open for lunch every day except Sunday, perhaps.

Albrecht's revisited

There are some Sundays when nothing else will do, and then we make the walk down Stargarderstraße and Schliemannstraße and Rykestraße until we arrive at Albrechts Pâtisserie's cheery red awning. Through the plate-glass windows I try to identify the tarts on offer: a meringue dome elicits a special beat of excitement.

In an email, a French reader of Berlin Reified sniffed at the jewel-like display of the tarte au citron, the millefeuille and the chocolate globes, preferring, I suppose, the luxurious plentitude of Paris pastry shops; still, the neatness keeps things übersichtlich. And note that alongside the classic French sweets one finds a generous selection of Stephanie Albrecht's own creations, such as rhubarb or blackcurrants crowned with crisp meringue.

Indecisive types might opt, as I often do for the gemischte Petits fours: three tiny tarts of your choosing, to be consumed in four careful bites. The tangy rich lemon curd made the Zitronen-Tarte my favourite (and the sprinkling of pistachio nuts lent the tart a pleasing bite).

Now that the weather's turned colder, the glossy white sidewalk tables are gone and one needs to cram into the small shop itself. Be warned that 1) there's no toilet and 2) there's a bit of a Ralph Lauren photo shoot vibe at the weekend (so many children in neat coats of navy or forest green, so many noble fathers with trim gray flannel trousers and manes of dark blonde hair).

But they can also pack your treats into cunning paper boxes to tote away; or, for those in that corner of Berlin, the Albrecht's in Winterfeldstraße has neither of these issues and the same lavish selection. For me, the cramming is a small price to pay for a beloved Sunday ritual.

Albrechts Pâtisserie
in Prenzlauer Berg: Rykestraße 39 (map)
in Schöneberg: Winterfeldtstraße 45 (map)
in Charlottenburg: Fasanenstraße 29 (map)
Open daily 10 am - 6 pm (from 11 am in Charlottenburg)

Prater revisited

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

The best Japanese restaurant in Berlin (Sasaya)

'Best' is not a word I use lightly, but really, Sasaya is just fantastic. Their sushi is excellent and they also have a wide range of other Japanese offerings. The turquoise and beige interior is perennially crowded with German and Japanese guests, to the point where I stopped going for a while, tired of the crush, until I figured out that lunch remains the best meal to enjoy there, in the leisurely lucent calm with baroque quartets on the stereo system. Best of all is Sunday lunch, when the rest of Berlin is brunching away on stale rolls and curling slices of sweaty cheese, but even then you'd do well to reserve.

Sasaya, Lychener Straße 50, Prenzlauer Berg (map)
(030) 4471 7721
Open noon to 3 pm & 6 to 10.30 pm, closed Wednesday

Cafe Liebling Revisited, or Chilly on Helmholtzplatz

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.)

Hazelwood (Summer season)

A sudden rain struck as we were walking to the Prater, and when we arrived it was forlorn, largely abandoned, and we paused, fazed to realize we would have to depart from our Sunday evening tradition. But I hadn't been to Hazelwood for ages, since the winter, really, and wondered how it fared in the summer, and felt its menu might be analogue to Prater's: picnic food, if you will.

We were fazed again to see that menu had altered -- pleasing diner standards such as the delectable grilled cheese had disappeared -- but when I ordered the cheeseburger I was happy to see that the rolls were still there, if less crisp. Leafing through the Guaridan Weekly, Die Zeit's Leben magazine and a Christmas edition of British Vogue, we nevertheless were content.

Hazelwood, Choriner Str. 72 (map)
Open T-Fri from 6 pm, Sat-Sun from 10 am
 

Beer gardens in Berlin: The Prater

I know, I know, it's famous, but seriously, it's easy to lose track of the classics, the standards, the places that are wonderful that you take for granted, and so as a reminder to us both this little photo of the Prater, to remind us of its dreaminess in mid-summer, sitting along a yellow table reading, eating a Bratwurst, sharing a Hefeweizen, watching the Berlin fathers chase their tiny children around the chestnut trees...

Prater Garten Berlin, Kastanienallee 7-9 (map)
The beer garden opens at noon daily from April to September provided the weather's fine. The Biergarten menu is sausage-heavy as to be expected but vegetarians can choose between the pasta salad, the potato salad and the cheese kebabs.

Afternoon at the Alte Nationalgalerie

Surely I am not the only one who finds the Alte Nationalgalerie cafe on Museumsinsel a bit – ridiculous? (No sooner is the question framed than googled: "Der Tiefpunkt der Berliner Museumsgastronomie ist wohl eindeutig die kümmerliche Espresso-Ecke der Alten Nationalgalerie" writes Berlin Ist.)

The coffee's fine, of course...

Alte Nationalgalerie, Bodestr. 1-3 (map)
Open Tues-Sun 10 am to 6 pm (Wednesdays till 10 pm)

SchokoBar & SchokoLaden

On spotting the 'SchokoBar' sign flapping in the wind, I immediately crossed the street. The area around Linienstrasse is the land of the little shop, and I do love exploring it. I noted the extensive range of Erich Hamann chocolates (made in Wilmersdorf) and the bevy of hot chocolates to order at the little bar, and cheerfully tried a couple of samples sitting out in white ramekins. I don't really need any chocolate, I thought, and left, smiling at the friendly salesman as I did, but the smoothness of the last truffle stayed with me, and after walking almost to Alte Schönhauser I skipped back across the street again to buy a cellophane cone. 2.90 EUR for about twenty truffles: 'Guyaux' the man spelled out for me.

SchokoLaden, Linienstr. 45 (map)
Open Mon-Fri noon to 7 pm, Sat 1 pm to 6 pm
Tel. 49 30 818 599 77

ETA Hoffmann

(photo taken from the E.T.A. Hoffmann website)

I'd never really noticed E.T.A. Hoffmann, though I must have passed it every day for the few weeks I lived in Yorckstraße. (Of course in 2001 fancy meals were neither on my radar nor within my means.) Flipping through Zitty's restaurant guide a few weeks ago, though, David and I immediately took note of ETA Hoffmann's three-course vegetarian menu for 25 (now 27) EUR. It is seldom simple for vegetarians to celebrate with fancy meals, and we starred their entry with an eye to our upcoming anniversary.

It can be soothing not to have to choose, and the vegetarian Überraschungsmenu (or surprise menu) allowed us to lean back and talk and drink our wine while course followed course, an artichoke heart gratineed with soft goat's cheese, a savoy cabbage strudel on a bed of roasted root vegetables, and a trio of sweets to end: date chocolate strudel, a boozy scoop of chocolate parfait, and firm cubes of pear, with two pitchers of bean-specked vanilla custard to pour on top (or into our spoons). Each dish - sweeping platters of German porcelain - was dotted with sauces in a way that I immediately appreciated as the Fancy Restaurant touch, from the balsamic emulsion that punctuated our opening salad to the almost-sweet cream sauce underlying the celeriac and parsley root to the bright mint dots that united our final course.

In notable contrast to the relaxed (verging on indifferent) service I've come to expect, even enjoy in Berlin restaurants, everyone here was attentive to a fault, topping glasses and whisking plates onto and off the table with alacrity, murmuring "but your dessert is on its way" when I was exiting to visit the ladies room. Of course, that's the sort of thing that makes it feel like an occasion.

E.T.A. Hoffmann, Yorckstraße 83 (map)
Tel. + 49 30 780 98809, e.t.a.hoffmann@arcor.de (Reservations are certainly a good idea; note that they've got a non-smoking section, which as of now is still a rarity.)
Open Wed to Mon from 5 pm

Liebling

I forgot my camera when we went to Liebling, but that seems fitting, for Liebling has neither a website nor a card nor a menu printed or chalked nor hardly even a name. 'Liebling' is nowhere to be found without or within except for scribbled across the magazines they keep for their visitors, to discourage pilfering. I think of these as the quiet days, before the place has a name, and we refer to it as the old artists' supply shop (which it was) next to the old Negativeland (whose space Goldhahn & Sampson now occupy).

Of course Liebling is more than an assemblage of absences. Walking in you see the customary extravagent use of lillies, white-on-white avian wall decals, a finely-tiled white barfront, furnishings in white, wood and silvery sage, excellent lighting fixtures (oval cameos of milky light) and everyone there that night was dressed neatly, wore glasses, and looked serious, except for the barman, who was unbespectacled, relaxed and kind. The most surprising element in the place was its "Plat du jour": Grünkohleintopf mit Knacker, a hearty portion of curly kale cooked with onions, bacon bits, potatoes, and pickled pork, and served with a sausage.

Liebling, corner of Raumerstraße and Dunckerstraße (map)
Open daily from 10 or 11 on

Goldhahn & Sampson

I knew Prenzlauer Berg was rapidly gentrifying but Goldhahn & Sampson seems to mark a turning point, bringing an urban-country style of posh food shop I associate with London to a Berlin neighbourhood that usually continues to insist on a certain scruff.

I'm not complaining. I like decor as much as the next girl, and was pleased by their wooden lingerie-counter-converted-to-bread-display case, by their comfy reading room with cookbooks in various languages fanned across a table, by their tongue-in-cheek instructional diagrams pinned to the walls. David, in turn, liked the Belgian beers I bought him (Orval and Hoegaarden for 2.50 EUR apiece). A certain scruffiness is retained in the secondhand coffee and spice grinders for sale, and the place, while swish, is not snotty.

On display is a nicely edited medley of items from Hawaii, England, Spain and even Saxony: I was impressed by the restrained packaging of Stadtgut Görlitz's various goulashes and fricassees. Along with great browsing potential, there's also a small counter serving up drinks. Barely open for a month now, the shop's already doing a brisk trade, and I'm looking forward to the cooking courses slated to begin in the next month or two!

Goldhahn & Sampson, Dunckerstr. 9 (map)
Tel. 411 983 66
Open Mon-Sat 10 am to 8 pm, Sun noon to 4 pm

Lass uns Freunde bleiben

When Hazelwood grew too loud, we retreated to Lass uns Freunde bleiben ("Let's stay friends") across the street. The cafe/bar was perfect before it became overrun with what Max tipped to be a Swabian youth group and we had to retreat again.

What I liked? Its battered western wall, its prices, its barkeep, its cryptic name, its URL (with an automatic redirect to Ruf mich nie wieder an ("Never call me again")), and I liked sitting slumped in one of the red upholstered chairs, watching the people, drinking Tempranillo, talking to Max.

Lass uns Freunde bleiben, Chorinerstr. 12 (map)
Open Mon-Thu 8 am to midnight, Fri 8 am on, Sat 10 am on

Hazelwood

Hazelwood is night to Duckwitz's day, its gleaming furniture black, its white walls offset by red vinyl banquettes; the banquettes make a nod to the German idea of America, but this is not a Berlin 'American Diner' with its neon pulsing and stools twirling, resplendent in 50s kitsch.

The food follows modern American trends, with the burgers served on what are described as ciabatta but taste more like lovely sourdough rolls, buttery-crisp on the outside and yieldingly soft within. Our grilled cheese (we opted for cheddar) was also served on this bread, and with the crunchy contrast of red onions I was in sandwich heaven. This, after all, is what I miss, not the slices of processed cheese on plastic bread you find aping Americana elsewhere.

Hazelwood, Chorinerstr. 72 (map)
Tel. 4432 4635
Open Tue-Fri 6 pm to 11 pm (or later), Sat and Sun 10 am to midnight (or later)

Fleischmöbel

There is nothing extraordinary about Fleischmöbel but I like it anyway, liked it when I stumbled upon it last August, wandering around Prenzlauerberg with Alison, and liked it the other day when David and I paused there for a coffee on another long ramble. I liked the intact façade and the fact that there's a pitcher of water on the bar, swimming with slices of lemon and lime, and the coffee was good, as was the tea with fresh mint, and the selection of magazines struck the necessary balance between frivolous and meaty (though that might be chance). Though I've yet to eat there, their menu of fresh croissants, ciabattas with avacado, smoked salmon or Parma ham, and homemade cakes looked quite tempting. Prices, as at all the places I favour, are reasonable. Look forward to al fresco sipping in the summer, when sidewalk tables and generous chairs sweep down to the street in a glimmering line, candles on every table, sheltering umbrellas overhead.

Fleischmöbel, Oderberger Str. 2 (map)
Open daily from 10 am onwards

Duckwitz

Rushing to in't Veld, knowing we should get lunch soon so David could head off for work, unsure of what Kakao offered in the way of savoury options, we passed Duckwitz, and all our problems evaporated. The white script on the windows promised organic local Mediterranean food, pushing (as David put it) all my buttons, and the bright interior managed to look inviting even on a gray windy day in Helmholzplatz.

We examined the chalkboard menu - venison terrine, potato and goat's cheese gratin, baguettes in the usual variations - before settling on the fennel quiche with a small salad and the baguette filled with chèvre, pear, and hazelnuts. (Baguettes are 3.40, the other dishes around 4.80.) I'm always a sucker for the well-packaged beverage and I homed in immediately on this French lemon soda (who can resist a label that trumpets "Pure sugar"?).

Their slogan is "Discover how delicious it is when Brandenburg meets the South of France." To be honest, I don't know enough about French cooking to know where the items - Gallic to my eyes - diverted to embrance the Brandenburgian, but after trying my tasty if unexceptional quiche I decided the food, though perfectly fine, wasn't really the thing to come for.

Instead I admired the furnishings: secondhand garden chairs and tray tables unified by gleaming coats of white eggshell paint, tiled floor in a cheery blue and white pattern, rough concrete walls painted pale lilac and lime. The shelves were laden with the usual French treats and some German ones (I was most tempted by a neat aluminum jar of dried blossoms to sprinkle on salads or heat in oil). And I felt very content, ensconced in my white deck chair, leafing through the magazines and watching the wind whip the trees outside. For a place to laze, it's perfect, and the range of quirky French drinks is amply complemented by local specialities such as elderberry, elderflower or Jerusalem artichoke sodas.

Duckwitz opened in September and if today was any indication is doing a roaring trade; its wall of south-facing windows giving onto Helmholtzplatz guarantee it will be a hit come spring. We made a mental note of the generous long table against the western wall, perfect to reserve for a celebration with friends, and plan to try the cakes next time.

 Duckwitz, Lettestr. 3 (map)
Tel. 41 19 88 82
Open Mo noon to 10 pm, Tu - Sat 9 am to 10 pm, Sun 9 am to 8 pm

Marietta's

The leaves on the tree in this photo will reveal that I have intended to mention Marietta's for some weeks now; your favorite local cafe/bar is just the sort of thing to keep up your sleeve, in life as in blogging.

I have to say that if on entering you see the front room - dimly lit by a few small candles, lamps, and the light from the generous but north-facing windows, with its soft pale moss retro chairs and black kidney-shaped tables and light lemon walls - is full, then it might be better to go somewhere else. (I find the back room, almost windowless and filled with low-slung brown sofas and chairs, a bit grubby.)

In the front, though, you've got the decor and you've got the windows to watch everyone walk up and down Stargarder Strasse, and you can watch the waiter or waitress potter about behind the bar, and reflect in leisure over whether you'd prefer the toasted Fladenbrot filled with feta, cucumbers and tomatoes or if a simple coffee will suffice you, before going up to the bar to order. The menu is not extensive, though the breakfasts (served all day) are very generous, and there are usually a couple of homemade cakes on the menu (for instance rhubarb streusel or Zopfkuchen), along with a soup, perhaps, and the sandwiches, and the usual nibbles of olives and suchlike. But it is very much a cafe/bar as well, so eating is not mandatory, and it's the perfect place to linger over postcards or just daydreaming. Thanks to complaints from the neighbors they no longer have DJs in the evenings, but the music they play is usually very good.

Marietta's, Stargarder Str. 13 (map)
(Note that the place isn't as ridiculous as its animated website makes it appear.)
Tel. + 49 30 43 72 06 46
Open Mo-Thu 10 am to 2 am, Fri-Sun 10 am to 4 am

Witty's at Wittenbergplatz

'So, do you eat mostly potato pancakes and sausages?' my father occasionally asks when we speak on the phone. In fact, potato pancakes – or Kartoffelpuffer – are seldom seen outside fairs, where they're served with large dollops of applesauce (Apfelmuss) and whipped cream. Sausages, on the other, are as omnipresent as stereotypes would lead you to believe, and come in many forms: grotesque, cooked open-air on a huge lap-tray bourne by a man in a wheelchair, the fuel for the grill in a tank strapped to the back of his chair; or tongue-in-cheek elegant, served with champagne at the Saturday Kollwitzplatz market.

It is possible that, leaving the KaDeWe, you will feel a bit numb remembering the 8 EUR you spent on a particularly fetching jar of salt; you might wonder if you’ll actually give the truffle oil to Clara for her birthday, or keep it for yourself and make do with a bouquet of wildflowers. You will be hungry, and you will want simple food. Sausages, say. And this is where Witty's at Wittenbergplatz trumps the grotesque and ironic offerings of the city, briskly serving up tasty organic Bratwurst, Wiener, and Berlin's own contribution to the Welt of sausages, Currywurst. If you feel a lingering hankering for the frou-frou, there is sate sauce and garlic mayonaise. And Witty's pleasures will cost you between 2.80 and 3.40 EUR, a steal after KaDeWe's lobster.

Witty's, Wittenbergplatz 5 (map)
(Note that Witty's is an outdoor food stand with some umbrellas and tables to stand at but nowhere to sit down.)

BrewBaker

It's nice to have friends to knock me out of my rut. I was excited when Max suggested meeting at the S-Bahnhof Bellvue and going to a nearby restaurant he knew there: I've never eaten around Bellvue. That this place made their own beer and bread made it even more promising.

The brick arches of the interior and the low lighting, warm against the rainy evening, were inviting, as was the friendly waitress who directed us to the blackboard that listed the day's specials. Soup, a cheese plate, vegetable crepes, a Zanderfilet and an organic water buffalo steak Béarnaise were on the menu, along with a Brotzeit plate.

When I first came to Germany, I was intrigued by the concept of Brotzeit or Abendbrot, literally "bread time" or "evening bread". Both words stem from southern Germany and indicate the simple once-traditional evening meal of dark German breads paired with cheese and cold cuts or sausages.
I usually like my suppers warm, but Brotzeit appealed to both Max and me, so we ordered a dish to share alongside our Winter Bock (a dark lager) and Hefeweizen (a wheat beer).

The Bock and the Hefeweizen were two of the homebrewed beers on the menu; a Pilsener and a stout were also on offer. The beers were delicious, and the Brotzeit's usual (very good) components were spiced up with a scattering of stuffed green olives and plump caper berries, a tangy bell pepper salad, a mound of alfalfa sprouts along with a few skewers of cornichons and pickled onions. On my mental to-do list now is to go back in the summer and eat in the attached courtyard Max told me about.

BrewBaker, S-Bahnbogen 415, Felnsburger Str. (map)
Tel. + 49 30 399 051 56 (Reservations weren't necessary today, but might be a good idea at the weekend.)
Open Mo-Fr 10 am to at least 11 pm, Sa-Sun 4 pm to at least 11 pm

Albrechts Pâtisserie

(photo taken from the Albrechts Pâtisserie website)

There are days - your last day off before returning to work, for instance - that seem, unquestionably, to merit a small cake. Usually, it's Kuchen and Torte that Berlin excels at, and I could fill pages with odes to the spread at the Opernpalais or the plum streusel cake we found at a little café near Peacock Island. But there is something special about a confection for one that makes me feel dressed up and special, like a little girl being taken out for a treat, shown a display case beyond her wildest dreams and told to choose what she likes. Choosing is the best part at Albrechts, because everything looks fantastic. Also pleasing is knowing that everything is made fresh daily on the premises, and that the woman who runs the place is only a few years older than me, a spunky entrepreneur in this somewhat stultified city.

Everything is available to take away, but can also be enjoyed in the small but cheery red and white interior. The magazines are plentiful, particularly fat glossy numbers like the German Architectural Digest and Vogue, and the atmosphere is always lively, with at least five small children nibbling away at their own nonce tea parties each of the times I was last there.

The first time I had a pear tart, barely glazed and with a crumbly, almond-rich crust. Today I settled on a citron tart, unexpectedly grounded with a thin bottom of dark chocolate, the lemony cream unctuous and just the right side of sour. Costing around 2.50 EUR, they're rather expensive by Berlin standards, but a steal as far as I'm concerned, and just the thing to round off a last long lazy day.

Albrechts Pâtisserie, Rykestr. 39 (map)
Open Tuesday to Sunday, 11 am to 6 pm

Weinstein

Promptly following the official start of winter, the first snow fell in Berlin today, and the sudden cold made me especially glad Sue and I had arranged to go to Weinstein. With its simple dark-wood furniture, snug interior, and bottle-lined or barrel-studded walls, Weinstein is the epitome of coziness; above, you can even see the traditional tiled oven in one corner, now purely decorative.

We shared a plate of French raw-milk cheeses, accompanied with crusty white and multigrain dark breads, and sampled a few of their red wines (a simple Languedoc Cabernet Sauvignon for me followed by a deep cherry Spätburgunder), and watched the place fill up and talked. Snacking and sampling has always been my favourite approach to Weinstein; though they have highly regarded three- and four-course menus matched with wines for around 36 to 44 EUR, I've always found their cooking competent but lacking the dimension that makes you close your eyes in pleasure. But their snacks - garlicky breads, the cheese plate, or a plate of local sausages, meats and cheeses from the Brandenburg region - are just the thing to nibble at while contemplating what to try next.

Weinstein, Lychenerstr. 33 (map)
Tel. 441 18 42 (reservations for larger groups are not a bad idea on weekend nights)
Open Mo-Sa 5 pm to 2 am, Sun 6 pm to 2 am

Anatre, or Lunch in Hackescher Markt

Anatre is just the sort of place you're thankful for when doing last-minute Christmas shopping in an overcrowded tourist magnet like Hackescher Markt. Their menu features simple but delicious ciabatta filled with the usual suspects (bresaola, fresh goat's cheese, prosciutto, sundried tomatoes, sheep's cheese, etc); my mozzarella, rucola and tomato ciabata arrived with an unannounced (but welcome) generous layer of green olive tapenade. They have a changing menu of pastas and salads too, and despite their central location in the Hackescher Höfe, prices are reasonable (ciabattas around 3.20 EUR, pastas between 5-6 EUR).

Anatre, Rosenthaler Str. 40 (Hackesche Höfe) (map)
Tel: (49) (30) 2858274
Open from noon to late

Voland (& Scho)

Just back from a celebratory dinner at Voland, our favourite neighbourhood Eastern European restaurant. On the bill tonight was the Ukrainian trio Scho. (Click here for the last few seconds of their final set.)

Voland's burnt ochre interior is coziest in late autumn and winter, and its solid Eastern European cuisine most fitting to these seasons. On the menu are the usual bliny, piroschki and borscht, as well as a delightful array of dumplings, including pelmeni and wareniki. The menu changes daily so the exact configurations vary; last night the meat-stuffed pelmeni were on offer with smetana (similar to sour cream) or butter and vinegar, while the wareniki were filled with potato or white sauerkraut and topped with sauteed mushrooms and crisp bits of onion. I'd never seen the Georgian speciality tshudu before. Ordering it, three flaky pastries arrive, one stuffed with meat, the other with potatoes, and the last (my favourite) with cheese. For dessert there are sour cherry dumplings, and bottles of Baltika are - barring delivery problems - on offer.

Voland, Wichertstr. 63 (map)
Live music on Friday and Saturday nights, with a cover ranging from 3 to 5 EUR; booking on these nights is recommended.

Aïoli (& Atame)

I never tire of the ritual of making aïoli, its unctuous pungence, its diversity, enlivening slender lengths of red pepper, roasted chicken, potatoes and – mostly simply – bread alike. (Today, we ate it with our pizza.)

For a long time I shied away from raw egg in recipes, then gradually became bolder, my one concession to salmonella hobgoblins being an insistence on absolutely fresh eggs. When possible, I buy them from the Spahrs' stand at the Kollwitzplatz market, where Mr Spahr stands ever-cheerful in all weather, backdropped by a banner displaying cheerful chickens. They have a choice of sizes from small to extra-large, and large eggs are 20 cents each.

I realize there is much controversy about Provençal aïoli versus its purist Spanish cousin, and many pages devoted to which spelling applies to which variation. I have always made the former, which I have understood as French, and was, thus, subject to the jitters that accompany mayonnaise.

It's something I never thought I would make a couple of years ago, daunted by its temperamental reputation, but recently I ceased working at Hackescher Markt, and so could no longer nip around the corner to Atame with its generous earthenware dish of the stuff, made, mysteriously, in the French way though it's a tapas bar. And so I had to learn.

This is what I settled on. My approach to recipes is one of triangulation, choosing one as a starting and modifying it according to the strictures of two or three others, and this too is a blend of many sources.

Aïoli

• 1/2 C (113 g) peanut oil (not roasted or dark! the oil should be light and tasteless)
• 2.5 T (38 g) best-quality olive oil
• 1 egg yolk at room temperature
• pinch of sea salt
• half a lemon
• two flawless garlic cloves, trimmed and smashed to pulp in a mortar with a tiny smidge of salt
• boiling water (perhaps)

Mix the oils together in a container with a spout that will let the liquid drip out slowly. I use the trusty oil can I bought in Lucca (see photo above). Put the egg yolk in a small bowl and add a pinch of salt. Use a whisk or hand-held electric beater to whisk the yolk for about 30 seconds, then begin adding the oil first drop by drop, then in a thin trickle, whisking steadily all the while. If the mixture curdles, add a quick splash of boiling water; I actually do this anyway once two-thirds of the oil is in, as I'm not so fond of the glassy quality of  mayonnaise pur. Once all the oil has been mixed in, add the garlic and a squeeze of lemon, stir thoroughly, then add more lemon and salt to taste. Keep covered and refrigerated and consume within a few days.

For those in Berlin with a hankering for garlic, Atame's take is to be highly recommended.

Atame, Dircksenstraße 40 (map)
They've got no set opening hours, but are usually open every day from noon to late.

Blumencafé

The fall snap was in the air, David had run out of coffee, and I wanted a baguette for dinner tonight so we ventured out into the gray day to stop at the bakery and then to visit Blumencafé across the street.

Adjoining a flower/plant shop, flowers crop up in the rose petal ice cream, as garnish for salads, and even on the little dish bearing the bill (anything from a fragrant trumpet lily to the few modest – truth be told, disappointing – sprigs of heather we got today).

My favourite thing is to come with a friend, order a generous pot of tea along with something to nibble, and soak up the soothing atmosphere, broken only by the squawks of the resident parrots who cavort next door, startling the newcomers.

The Blumencafé uses primarily organic ingredients, and they have a range of breakfasts served all day and a changing display of cakes, along with snacks like olives and sundried tomatoes or roasted almonds – though I must say I come more for the atmosphere than the food itself.

This afternoon, seeing David yawning while paging  through the menu, the waiter brought him an espresso on the house. Afterwards, we browsed through the shop and watched the parrots gnaw at the wooden doorframe with their fierce beaks. The woman there tried to shoo them first by shaking an upturned broom (unsuccessful – the parrots retreated for a moment, then sidled back and resumed gnawing) and then by spritzing them with water (outraged, they swept across the room to a little perch on the other side).

Before we left, we bought a sage plant that the woman promised was winterhart and would do fine on our balcony over the winter; she advised us to pluck sparingly from now until the spring.

Blumencafé, Schönhauser Allee 127a (map)
Open M-Sa 7 am to 8 pm, Su 10 am to 8 pm

Etienne, Etienne

Etienne so far for a market respite, for a restoring onion soup with textbook-crisp croutons, for Breton galette with potato and chèvre, for other things soon.

Etienne, Husemannstraße 2 (map)
Tel. +49 30 700 87 076, info@restaurant-etienne.de
No set opening hours, but open most days from late morning to late night.

The Oderquelle

I tend to fixate: The Grey Album, not hiphop, The Waves, not Woolf, and the Oderquelle, the Oderquelle. I first visited the restaurant in 2001 when a friend was scouting restaurants for her wedding reception. We were immediately charmed by the mixed clientele (Prenzlauerberg hipsters sharing a long table with four old men playing cards) and the stylish but utterly unselfconscious interior.

Margaret did end up having her reception at the Oderquelle, and I fondly remember savouring the venison steak in their snug pale-teal side room. In the years that followed, I've been there with every friend who's ever come to visit, my now-husband and I had our first date there, on special request they put my two favourite dishes on the menu when I celebrated turning 27, and even brought us plates for the brownies David had made.

Why I'm so obsessed? First, the menu changes daily, and the moment a new delicacy cycles into season they spotlight it, but don't just go through the motions. Germans are obsessed with asparagus, for example, and in the spring you see signs everywhere proclaiming Spargelzeit (Time for asparagus!). Most of the Spargel menus are the same dreary march through asparagus with hollandaise, asparagus with hollandaise wrapped in a handkerchief of ham, etc. Oderquelle's take, on the other hand, would be roasted asparagus stalks, blistered with mahogany patches and briefly dunked in a butter-lemon allusion to hollandaise.

Second, vegetarians are only very seldom fobbed off with a could-have-made-it-myself pasta variant; crisp delicate vegetable strudel or olive-studded mashed potatoes gratineed with Appenzeller are more the order of the day. Carnivores are just as well served with a range of German and new European options: crisp pork loin in a cumin sauce with glazed red radish and potato dumplings, for instance, or rumpsteak with a marrow crust and a side order of potato rösti topped with Italian ham.

The wine list is reliable and unshowy, and I, ever the temperate drinker, am grateful for the chance to sample good German, French, Italian or Spanish wine for 2 or 3 Eur for a 0,1 l  (3.5 oz) glass. The service is unpretentious but efficient, and they inevitably have great music playing. (And finally – strictly for me – it's just the right distance from our flat: a brisk twenty-minute walk through the park, the perfect length for a post-prandial stroll to digest and reflect on how exactly they made the parsnip lace garnish so crisp.)

Oderquelle, Oderbergerstraße 24, 10435 Berlin (map)
(030) 4400 8080 (Reservations are a good idea, but they can usually fit people in at the bar.)

in't Veld & Kakao

It seems uncharitable to mention in't Veld only vis-a-vis a lack when it's one of my favourite places to linger. It's easily the most stylish chocolate shop in Berlin. Their logo is a jaunty ocean liner set against the Berlin skyline, their front entrance sports an antique chocolate vending machine, and the shop itself has a warm, intimate interior of dark woods and rich colours that combine to create a contemplative air, encouraging the visitor to dawdle and weigh the merits of the products on display: Has Zotter just gone too far again, or is the coffee/plum/bacon bar worth trying? Should I give Berlin's own Erich Hamann line a chance? Or how about a few boxes of in't Veld's niftily packaged dark chocolate slabs?

Selections from Amedi, Blanxart, Cowgirl Chocolates, Dolfin, Domori, Gerbaud, Rovira, Summerbird and Valrhona – just to name a few – also fill the shelves. And there's even a handy bench outside to sit and enjoy your purchases, or sip a cup of their rich, viscous hot chocolate ...

If you'd like to linger a little longer, or if, like now, the days are too brisk for al fresco sipping, visit their sister restaurant Kakao, conveniently located next door. On the menu are chocolate antipasti, more hot chocolate variations, a lovely revolving glass case full of homemade cakes, and another with organic ice creams. It's impossibly full on a Sunday afternoon as everyone crowds in for their Kaffee und Kuchen, but most evenings it's not too busy, and the lush cosy brown and maroon interior makes it perfect for winter nights.

in't Veld & Kakao, Dunckerstraße 10, 10437 Berlin
in't Veld open M-F 12 to 7 pm, Sat 11 am to 4 pm
Kakao open daily from 12 onwards

Clärchen's Ballhaus (Auguststraße)

Clärchen's Ballhaus (now Ballhaus Mitte), a 1920s dance hall in Auguststraße which continues to offer dancing and dining in style...

Ballhaus Mitte, Auguststraße 24, 10117 Berlin