Best Yellow Curry in Berlin

It exists, really it does, in two places that serve something reminiscent of the fare in Amsterdam's famous Indonesian district where yellow curry abounds. Both of the places I've found in Berlin are Asian fusion restaurants: something that works really, really well in the Bay Area, where a couple of months ago I was slaking the hunger for Asian food I'd built up over the last year. One has to be very, very careful about Asian food in Europe (think of Szechwan or North Indian cuisine stripped of all of their fire), and the mere idea of anything fusion frightens me here. As a consequence, I step foot, trepidatiously, in a new Asian restaurant in Europe perhaps twice a year. I often employ tasters, relying on word-of-mouth from friends with sophisticated palates.

In Berlin, then, Transit in Friedrichshain has a dish called Harvest Gold, which is quite close to that Amsterdam-style yellow chicken curry that I so crave. It is, unfortunately, sans the egg balado, but since it's a small dish (only 3 euros) with sweet potatoes, I can hardly complain. The Pirate took me to the second, Mirchi, in Kreuzberg's SO36 district, for my birthday. It gets such consistently bad reviews that I was sceptical, but due to a serious fashion error (walking way too far in a new pair of shoes) which precluded my hobbling even 100 meters more, the only other option was Amrit next door, which any long-termer in Berlin knows is seriously to be avoided. I was very happy with Mirchi's yellow curry (ask for it specifically as it's difficult to pinpoint on the menu). Given the many on-line reviews that bitterly complain about Mirchi's Thai and Indian offerings, I'd say it's best to avoid anything that's not from the islands. An additional warning: both restaurants have additional locations in Mitte but I generally avoid the tourist strips where there's always the danger of higher prices and lower quality food.

Brunching Berlin

Brunch in Berlin was something I learned quickly (within the first few months of living here) to avoid. Most spreads include acre-feet of meat and cheese, and in the winter the only fruit you'll see will have come out of a can. I'm a woman who appreciates carbohydrates for breakfast; I want breads with real preserves, plus French toast and pancakes and waffles, all with real maple syrup. So when the Pirate suggested a Russian brunch at Cafe Datscha in Friedrichshain, I was sceptical, but one look at all the strange little tchotcke things they offered was enough to convince me. Looks did not deceive in this case; although I have next to no idea what I was eating 80% of the time, 90% of it was fabulous. It's a real splurge at 9,50 euros, but if you show up good and hungry, then leisurely eat your way through a couple of hours, it's more than worth it.

The good news keeps on coming: Fortuna, whose Thanksgivings I've raved about for two years, has decided to do a Sunday brunch at her place on Weserstr. Naturally I chose real American-style buttermilk pancakes that definitely beat out my mother's recipe. She also treated me to a sample of her sausage gravy with biscuits. The gravy was wonderful, even for someone who avoids Schweinfleisch with a nearly religious fervor, but if I could be immodest, I do believe my biscuits would win out in a taste-test. The next time I'll have to try either the eggs Juanita or salmon hash.

Mind Made Up

Living in Berlin without Kakao is unthinkable, really (and to further torture us, its website continues to be on-line). Little did I know, when I wrote this post, that that was the last time their orgasmic hot chocolate would cross my lips. It was still open when I returned to Berlin last June, but the weather was so lovely that I ordered one of their chocolate ice creams instead. Then by October when I returned to submit all my visa paperwork, they were closed. M. remembers seeing a report of a place shut down in a drug sting operation (their Klassik was decadent enough to have been declared illegal). After going by there last night, talking to the wait staff, and verifying the venue is now occupied by a completely alien business, I rushed home to immediately booked my return flight to Madrid. I'll arrive back in time to spend at least part of the spring drowning my sorrows in Spanish chocolate caliente con churros. In the meantime, what is left for me in Berlin? Ah, well, the Berlinale, of course. Sans hot chocolate.

Good Fortune

It had been three years since I'd put real turkey in my mouth; sure, the program through which I ended up in Germany threw a Thanksgiving party each of the last two years and the Americans brought dishes to pass, including pumpkin pie that met my standards. But the turkey was frighteningly over-cooked and soggy and as this year it was to be in the distant 'burbs of Dahlem. So when D. presented an alternative planned for Tuesday, I happily signed on, as it was catered by Fortuna, an American cook, in her new space. It's a bit like a speakeasy for food, strangely enough very close to where I lived during on Weserstr. last February/March. I brown-bagged the left-overs from that huge plate of food and just polished them off, on actual T-day.

Food can be so evocative, really, and the Brits around me noticed me getting teary-eyed; it wasn't the first or second or even third bite -- those were dedicated to savoring and evaluating. It was really great turkey and I, no fan of gravy, actually liked hers very much. But it must have been the fourth or fifth bite when I found myself back in the house where I lived with my ex, Bob's house, with Bob right above, just on the Berkeley/No. Oakland border. And C. and J. were there, and M. and J., and I even think J. had come up from LA, and my ex and I were cooking up a storm and the turkey had been brined perfectly and my rolls were great, and oh, the pumpkin pie, oh my, and Hugo had just come to us, in his 4-month-old hellion incarnation, and made us all fall in love, and even though my job was quickly going to hell (I still didn't know it) and my relationship too (I still didn't know it) and there was the stress of all those undercurrents, still, with a house full of people dear to me and food and wine and music and laughter, well, that was home: that music, that laughter, those rituals that happen every year. So thanks, Fortuna, for your great food, and thanks, D. for the invitation.

Edible German Food in Mitte!

Never thought I'd give a German resauraunt a rave review but during my very nice two-week cat-sitting stint in Sophienstraße, right in the heart of Mitte, I tried Mittendrin at number 19. It doesn't seem to have a website, but its Maultaschen, cut in cross-sectional strips and cooked along with tomatoes and onion into a sort of egg scrambler, was absolutely delicious. B. thought the spätzle was fab, as well. I can vouch for their berry pie, as well. Prices are quite reasonable for this trendy area of Mitte.

Morrocan in Berlin

There was a great little Moroccan restaurant hidden in a small cubbyhole on Danzigerstr. for about the first half of 2007, but when I came back from the U.S. in late summer, it was already out of business. That guy did couscous dishes just perfectly; it's a shame. Restaurants in Berlin seem to be perpetually undercapitalized, so as far as I can tell, unless they happen to hit just the right niche and explode into popularity within 3 months, they're history.

Mr. 36C and I went to Barraka near Görlitzerbahnhof that I'd been meaning to try, but I can't really recommend it despite the extremely friendly service. The vegetarian couscous was adequate but the lamb tagine was dull, ingredient-poor and far too dry for a dish that should be stew-like. In my experience, only Kasbah is worthwhile, and it is rather on the pricey side. Good date restaurant, however -- nice location in Mitte, good attention to decor, nice low lamp lighting. And the food is completely up to my standards. It also has booze, as it's not halal (which in Berlin is virtually a death-blow against any restaurant).

THE Persian Restaurant in Berlin

Before I leave town, I should comment on the best (and as far as I know, the only) Persian restaurant here. It's Safran in Kreuzberg and I can only judge its authenticity in comparison with the wonderful Persian places that have sprung up in California -- Berkeley's University Ave., LA's Westwood, and San Diego's Horton Plaza come to mind. If you're short on cash, they have a Mittagsessen discount menu, 12:00 - 17:00.

Authentic Ethiopian Food in Berlin

I found out about this restaurant from my Ethiopian student this summer and remembered it when mulling over dinner possibilities for a visitor this week. This restaurant matches the best Ethiopian food I've ever had in the US, since a friend first introduced me to it in Foggy Bottom in DC during grad school. My love affair continued through Little Ethiopias in LA (Fairfax Ave.) and North Oakland (Temescal neighborhood).

At Bete Ethiopia, Zientenstr. 8 (a block or two southeast of the Nollendorfplatz U-Bahn), everything is fabulously good, right down to the honey wine served in pretty fluted glasses from the home country. I highly recommend the combination, for 18 euros, which gets you a selection of the typical vegetarian offerings and one each of lamb, chicken, and beef, including the famous berbere sauce to challenge hardened spice connoiseurs. All served on a large platter covered with ingera, of course.

Feeling of euphoria

The sun made an anemic appearance in Berlin this morning, but by the time I stirred out of my apartment it had retreated. I went to the canal anyway, with my old dried-out left-over naan, to feed the swans. The ducks are faster but the swans have those long, long necks, so by strategically lobbing the bread in the right direction, while correcting for gusts of wind, it's possible to rig the odds in favor of the swans. They sell that naan in packs of 4 for 1.20 euros; it's so cheap but I can't eat it all before it goes stale, so the swans and ducks get to enjoy it too.

Afterwards, I had a moment of pure euphoria. The sky was gray, the weather could be said to have been, at best, crisp, and I went to buy my fresh new naan from the Kurdish guys that bake it daily. When I walked into their little shop about 6 of them were hard at work over the Tandoori ovens and it was so warm with such a yummy fresh bread smell bursting out of the place, that I just broke into a big smile. It was plastered all over my face as I walked back to my flat, clutching this big pack of 4 naans to my chest, so warm, so fragrant, well, it's hard to say why or where happiness happens, but it certainly is nice when it does!

Food Alert - Real Naan Spotted in X-berg

Here's a real food coup -- there is actually a shop with, of all things, multiple tandoori ovens, very close to where I'm living. I asked the people working there; they are Turkish Kurds and this apparently is bread baked just like back home. It's a tiny shop "Tandur Brot" at Kottbusserdamm 6 just north of the Schönleinstraße U-Bahn stop, on the west side of the street before the canal. It's the first I've seen in Berlin; to date all so-called naan in Indian restaurants has been awful -- yeasty and undercooked -- which I assume comes from trying to bake it in a regular oven. This tandoori brot falls somewhere between naan and pita, as far as taste. It looks and feels exactly like naan, so I figure the slight pita taste must come from the flour they use.

Finding decent Indian food here (aside from the naan), is not too hard. Every Indian restaurant in Berlin seriously oversalts and as all the dishes are made up in large batches, there's not much a customer can do to intervene. Some places are not as bad, so I encourage visitors to try several in their vicinity; there are lots throughout the city. Now that I've found a passable restaurant in my 'hood, my plan is to get naan, get Indian take-out, and pig out at home. YUUUMMM!

The good thing is I'm not losing so much weight living in Berlin as I did last year. Having moved here from the Bay Area, of course I had been spoiled with so much fabulous food (not to mention that my ex loved to cook). I'm lucky to be in that extremely irritating minority of women who actually have to make an effort not to lose too much weight.