Eat a lot: 3 Schwestern, Kreuzberg

Restaurant 3 Schwestern is located in the beautiful old Bethanien building, a former hospital complex built mid 20th century, tucked away behind Oranienstraße. Predictably, tourists don't venture far from what they know and therefore tend to skip the Mariannenplatz and this impressive building, with its long corridors full of artist studio's, printing presses and exhibition rooms. A huge mistake.


I brought some Dutch friends here who were suitable impressed by the vaulted restaurant ceiling, the allsorts collection of guests and the excellent food. At around €15 for a main course, prices are a bit above the average Berlin budget, but our European guests didn't bat an eyelid. But then in Holland, people are used to paying the same amount of money for a sad, overcooked bit of salmon... The lovely waiting staff at 3 Schwestern served me a crispy, succulent, generous piece of halibut fillet with panfried potatoes to die for instead. Other winners on their German style menu where the apple fed pork with dumplings (visions of little pigs being hand fed with mountains of juicy apples ensued) and stewed leg of lamb with a rosemary jus. 

If you're on a low budget, head to the large, leafy garden out back on a summer's afternoon for tea and cake. The summer cheesecake looked a treat and I would have happily devoured it, had I not pigged out beforehand on the bread basket and zingy lemony garlic butter. Or you can take advantage of their very reasonably priced lunch menu (3 courses for €10.50). As for me... I'll be back. Next time we have guests that offer to pay for dinner, this is where we'll be going. God, I really sound like a cheapskate don't I? Sorry about that. It's the Berlin way of life.

This was the stage at which I remembered to take a picture. 

PS There's an open air cinema (Freiluftkino), showing Original Language films, on all summer at Bethanien. Daily at 9.45pm.


3 Schwestern, Künstlerhaus Bethanien, Mariannenplatz 2, 10997 Berlin, 03060031860, 3schwestern-berlin.de, open Tue - Sun from 11 am

Eat a lot: Schiller Burger, Neukölln

Right in my Kiez, in the fast gentrifying Herrfurthstraße, a trio of foodie spots has opened: Schiller Burger, Schiller Bar and Schiller Backstube. Enter a load of higgledy piggledy furniture on the pavement, lots of liveliness and, of course, the odd protester's rock through the window.

The people behind the place are not easily frightened and have happily made the dents in the windows part of their graffiti wall display. The many twenty and thirty somethings in the area aren't afraid either. They have come crawling out of buildings that, as far as I was aware, only housed old Berliners, squatters and druggies, and have taken seat, en masse, outside the Schiller Bar. Who knew there were so many people like me in my Kiez?

The burgers, with incomprehensible names like Glocke (bell) for a cheeseburger and Wallenstein for chilli cheese (forever my favourite) are decent. The buns are not too soggy or squidgy, the toppings generous and there are great options for veggies. The fries are excellent yet the sauces dire. Some room for improvement then. If it weren't quite so close and gemütlich, and they didn't have quite so many places to sit and lounge outside for the rest of the night, beer from the next door bar in hand, I would take the trouble of cycling all the way to BBI (Berlin Burger International) and their ever present queue.

Schiller Burger's cool flyer / business card

Burgers, fries, sauce and a beer for two cost us €16.50.

Schiller Burger, Herrfurthstraße 7, Neukölln, 12049 Berlin, 01729824427, schillerburger.de

Eat a lot: Weinblatt, Graefekiez

In the ever more trendy Graefekiez you'll find a Mediterranean looking place called Weinblatt. The wooden benches outside are perfect for lounging on a sunny day, but the day that I pass the place is a rainy one, so I duck inside. I'm glad I did, because many of its treasures are hidden inside. 

At the centre of it all, you'll find a shop counter full of glistening olives, beautifully coloured pastes and wonderful salads. Every other millimetre of wall space is covered in food stuffs to take home: organic wines from Italy or Spain, beautiful packets of dried pasta, bottles of olive oil and wonderfully heavy looking homemade breads.

I pick one of the many menu combinations on offer - I go for two pastes, one salad and olives for €4.50 -  and sit down in the adjacent room, which is stuffed, like the vine leaves that give this restaurant its name, with sofas, garden furniture, wicker ornaments and, inexplicably, vintage Vogue fashion posters. A glass of wine and a basket of flatbread to boot and - sigh - it feels like a mini break. When I go back for just a little more, I learn the limits of Weinblatt's combination platter menu: it's not possible to combine the pastes I just had (a chilli-tomato and a creamy aubergine one) with the interesting looking veg balls I feel I NEED to try. Not without getting some vine leaves thrown in anyway. 

So I end up stuffing myself. Which is possibly the only thing you can do in a place called Weinblatt.

Weinblatt, Dieffenbachstraße 59, 10967 Berlin, +49 (0)30 69517365, open Mon-Sat from 9.30am till 11pm, Sun from 11am till 11pm, knofi.de

Testing one, two, three

People always assume my dream would be to write my own cookbook. Knowing the amount of love, passion and hard work that goes into it, I wish I could say yes. Because that would mean I am a tremendously passionate, hard working and dedicated person. And who wouldn't want to think that of themselves?


But. I don't. Want. My own. Cookbook. 


Yet. 


I am however working on someone else's at the moment. No, it's not a celebrity who is going to pretend that the recipes are theirs and no really, they do spend every free nanosecond preparing healthy balanced meals for their family in between all the Hollywood parties and spins in their Maserati. Still, can't tell you who it is. Sorry.


One month and sixty recipes later, I can however show you what I've been doing. (Which is testing. Writing. Thinking up original yet doable dishes for the whole family.) Without giving too much away, here's a little showcase. 

Cook a lot: the 17 day diet, the end

I have quit the diet. Alas. The reason: chocolate mousse. 

You see, I had a load of recipe testing to do. Spaghetti carbonara. Spinach quiche. Supersandwiches. And chocolate mousse. All carb laden dishes, all things that Dr. Mike would have a fit about if he heard. I wouldn't be a good recipe tester though if I didn't actually eat the food. Or so I tell myself. 


Therefore, the diet has come to an end. The relief is palpable and things have cheered up no end in our house. I  lost 1.5 kg and felt quite energetic (albeit cranky) throughout so I am planning to keep up the reduced carb thing. But not right now. Right now I am going to eat the chocolate mousse.

Cook a little: the 17 day diet, day 4

Day 4 and I've run into a few problems with the diet.

1 I am utterly bored. What can I say? I like my food. After 4 days of fruit, steamed veggies and fish, there's only one thing on my mind. How does Posh Spice do it? She supposedly lives off this stuff.

breakfast: scrambled eggs with veggies and cottage cheese (no toast, then)

2 I have a load of recipes to test for various jobs, and they all contain carbohydrates. Of course they do, it's what normal people eat. What do I do? Do I test them then chuck the food? Do I try one bite (which I should really, I have to TEST it for god's sake)? Do I tell my employers to shove it?

3 I think about food all the time.

4 I talk about food even more than usual.

On the up side:

1 My time spent in supermarkets is greatly reduced. I'm not allowed any bread, pasta, wheat, meat, sugary food/drinks or alcohol, so all I need to look at are the fruit/veggies and the dairy section. I buy eggs in bulk and - with reluctance - some cut poultry. I walk past whole supermarket sections with my head held high. No thanks. Feelings of superiority ensue.

2 I get creative with the loopholes. I decide red wine is ok (something about nutrients in the grape skins) and for some reason, Parmesan is considered a low fat cheese by Dr. Mike. I suspect, however, that the phrase 'fat free' has gotten lost in translation somewhere. I'm not questioning Dr. Mike though. No way. I eat the cheese. Bliss.

3 Am fascinated how easy it is to greatly reduce my sugar and carb intake. I don't get withdrawal symptoms. I don't crave sugary stuff. The only thing I really miss, is something salty and crunchy. Like roasted nuts. Now there's a thought.

More about the book itself (as opposed to my diet miseries) to follow.

Cook a little: the 17 day diet, day 1

My next book review is on a diet book. Following my own rules-of-the-reviewer (with 'don't review a cookbook you haven't cooked from' being the one and only rule), this means I have to go on said diet. That's a first.

Well actually, I did follow a diet once. All I remember is that it was four days of tuna steaks for lunch, spoonfuls of peanut butter as a snack and lots of beets. As random as the famous Beyoncé 'maple syrup and cayenne pepper' diet then. I was supposed to lose four kilos in those four days, just like my assistant-at-the-time Rosie's mother did. I lost nothing. I'm still eating peanut butter straight from the jar though.

The book is The 17 Day Diet by Dr. Mike Moreno, who thankfully is a real doctor - a GP. (He comes with recommendations from Dr. Phil. Who came on a wave of Oprah Winfrey fame. It's all in the networking.) Dr Mike is not as shouty as I had expected: leafing through the book I only see a few exclamation marks. Good.

It's translated into Dutch by a lady who used to write for 'the glossies' and now writes her own books. You can tell she's not a translator. Some sentences are appalling. You can just hear Dr. Mike in the background, saying it in English with his (or so I imagine) American twang and big white smile. Be warned, I will not be able to stop myself from giving examples (in Dutch) of the odd odd sentence. (Yes, it is supposed to say 'odd' twice. Speaking of appalling sentences.)

On the road

Exciting things happened this week, explaining my blogging absence. Thing is, I went on my first ever tour. Twas a rock band music tour on the road kind of affair (which totally brought out my inner groupie girl), only with two singer songwriters so less of the rock and more of the music. However. There were backstage wristbands involved, beardy tattooey roadies carrying around stuff to and fro, plus free beers/avocadoes/crisps in the dressing room. (I even discovered a vegetable crudité platter one night, with houmous for dipping, and nearly wet myself. Unfortunately it was for sharing with another band, the ever expanding-in-notoriety Rats on Rafts,  so I couldn't eat the lot even though I'd had no dinner. But then I suppose having no dinner is very rock 'n' roll too.) There were fellow groupies who mouthed along to all the songs (nil points for me on that one) and vied for a place on the backstage sofa (I won all the points there). All in all it was quite an adventure.

Mitzi Blue chocolate

I love love love product packaging. It is my dream to be the comer upper of unputdownable tins of soup, washing powder cartons and stock cube packets. If I had the energy to make a portfolio, apply for art school and spend three years being told what to do, I would become one. Until then, I will have to make due with drooling over the lovely things I see in the shops.

And drooling I was, when coming across this beautifully designed brand of chocolate: Mitzi Blue. I spent an absolute age trying to pick the one flavour I was allowing myself to buy. (The steep price was the only thing holding me back. Oh, and my ever so slowly increasing weight.) I went for the Schweinstrauben (pigs' grapes), with a funky little drawing of piggies clustered together as a bunch of grapes. It contained milk chocolate, grapes and the unknown ingredient of 'Grammelnougat'. Never in a million years did I think there were actually piggies in there. But there are, in the shape of tiny nuggets of caramelized pork scratchings. And they taste good too (the piggies).

Cook a lot: One more slice by Leila Lindholm

Every time I tell my mum I have baked something sweet, she says the same thing: be careful. It's not really a surprise as this is my mum's response to many of the things I tell her. On holiday? Be careful. Long drive in the car? Be careful. Got a cold? Be careful. After years of the same spiel, I know the code behind the much used phrase. In the case of baking she means: you'd better watch your weight. Baking means eating, and who else but me and my man would be eating up all this cake?

Looking at the pictures of Leila Lindholm in her second baking book, One more slice, I have a suspicion that her mum worries about other things. Leila looks like lately, she's been baking her cake and eating it, too. Dressed in floaty clothes and padding on Birkenstocks, she's a down to earth version of the equally curvy Nigella Lawson. An earth mother of sorts, and one that - according to the foreword - is trying to bridge the gap between cultures and generations by baking goodies. The recipes are international enough and range from Italian semifreddo to American brownies and from French pain au levain to Russian blinis.