Eat a lot: Markthalle Neun, minus the crowds

There’s something quite disconcerting about a friendly neighbourhood joint becoming a tourist destination. Great for the joint, no doubt, but for those who live locally, it’s a confusing experience. Not only do you suddenly have to queue (or worse, pay entry), you also invariably end up feeling bad. Bad for envying others what you ‘discovered’ all on your own, no tourist guide or hipster blog needed. Bad for having to pay much more for the same thing. Bad for not seeing the bright side for the lucky vendor(s) who find themselves the centre of attention. Bad for cursing the American accents of the American staff serving the American tourists and nobody speaking German any more. If you’re even a tad of a sauer person (wonderful German word, sauer), the whole thing leaves you with a nasty taste in your mouth.

Food location wise, this happened to me with ever increasingly popular Klunkerkranich. (Can it get more popular? Yes, it can.) It has all the sauer-making essentials: queuing, price hikes, tourists, entrance fees.

It also happened with the Markthalle Neun. I remember (I indeed am that old) when the hall was empty and no one wanted to shop there, not even at the Aldi. There were plans to spruce it up, to hold events, to bring the Markthallen of Berlin back into fashion. I was a faithful visitor of those first events, from breakfast get-togethers to handmade supermarkets. I loved the arches to sit under, the kids’ play area, the slightly mucky toilets in one corner and the hippy dippy people trying to sell their soups made of wonky carrots, once a week.

But now, visiting when there’s an event on (they do recurring ‘events’ which are then by definition no longer events, I suppose) you can’t get in the door, you can’t get a table, or food that’s actually hot, or find your friends in the throng of it all. Say goodbye for five minutes while one person joins the wait for an overpriced raclette while the others nip into Aldi for a cheap prawn sandwich, and you’ve said goodbye for the rest of the night.

So I’ve tried a different tack. I’ve gone during weekday lunch hours. Hey presto! It was like stepping back in time, only with cleaner toilets. There were seats for everyone. It was quiet and lovely, just like it used to be. OK, so half the stands were closed, waiting for the hordes of tourists on Streetfood Thursday, but there was more than enough choice for everyone. 

Prices were steep though, for Berlin standards at least. The onsite bakery’s 100% spelt breads sold for nearly €13 a pop. We almost lost our appetite and as an act of recalcitrance went for the Aldi prawn sandwich. Feeling bad (see, there it is again) we then bought some good coffee from the Café (€2,60 for a cappuccino), a super tasty albeit greasy olive focaccia (€2,50) and an organic bretzel (€1,30) that was generous but a wee bit dried out. The American workers were there (you can just hear them bragging to their homey friends: So yeah, I work in this, like, amaaazing food hall in the middle of Berlin…). But other than that, the locals had their neighbourhood joint back. For an hour or two at least.

 

Markthalle Neun lunch menu, 12-6pm, Mon-Thu, website

Drink a lot: Mutterland, Hamburg

If you’re ever stuck in Hamburg waiting for a train, and you don’t want to venture too far away from the station, you could do a lot worse* than a café cum laden called Mutterland (motherland). Of course, the name refers to the regional fare they sell, not the locals that might come here. But still, I was a little worried (hey, it was my day off from the little ones). No need for that. Instead of a buggy parking lot and soft colourful furnishings, there was a cute corner for drinking your drink and eating your cake, plus a shop floor crammed full of medicinal looking jars (spices, chutney, jam), bottles (vodka, schnapps, lemonade) and little gift bags. A counter housed impressive looking deli foods. 

 

 

Eat a lot: German bread

If there was ever proof that the Germans take their bread seriously, it's in this bread from Bäcker Wiedemann. The clock on the packaging of this rather nice sourdough bread is hand-drawn in to show you what time the bread was baked that day. It's lovely little details like that that make all the difference.

Bäcker Wiedemann currently has 30 stores across Berlin.

Eat a lot: wholewheat chocolate birthday cake with strawberries & cream

Kids’ birthday cakes these days are sickly sweet, both in colour and flavour, mostly covered in inch-thick layers of marzipan and decoratively inspired by Disney merchandise. The constant barrage of them ruffles my feathers, especially at this time of year, when my twins have their birthday. In my eyes, the Barbie princess cake, the three-tiered Minion castle or the giant Peppa Pig are unedible and unpleasant; they are the ultimate proof that our world has gone consumer mad.

Obviously, most kids love these cakes. Not to eat perhaps, but to poke each others’ eyes out with. Shouldn’t cakes be about eating, though? Let cake be cake, is what I say. I’ll give them some Peppa Pig tonight instead, on the ipad.

cake before twins

Wholewheat chocolate birthday cake with strawberries & cream

This cake is slightly healthier than normal thanks to the wholewheat flour, giving some crunch and texture in the process. Otherwise it is all that a birthday cake should be: sweet & crumbly with cream on top.

175 g wholewheat flour

2 tbsp cocoa powder

2 tsp baking powder

175 g soft brown sugar

175 g butter

3 eggs

2 tbsp strawberry jam

100 ml whipping cream

1 tbsp caster sugar

250 g strawberries, hulled and sliced

Preheat the oven to 170°C. Sift the flour, cocoa powder and baking powder into a large bowl, then sprinkle over the bran that is left in the sieve. Add the brown sugar, butter and eggs and mix with a hand-held mixer until you have a soft batter. Add 1-2 tbsp water and mix again.

Grease two 18 cm round cake tins and line their bases with baking paper. Divide the batter over the two tins, place them in the preheated oven and bake for 30 minutes or until the cakes are springy and done. Leave to cool on a wire rack.

Spread the jam on one of the cakes. Divide over about one third of the strawberry slices and top with the second cake.

Whip the cream and caster sugar and spread over the top of the cake. Decorate with the remaining strawberries, add candles, serve & sing!

cake after twins

Quicker than quick chocolate cake for one

I found myself in a bit of a pickle just now. I had an unstoppable sweet craving, but nothing readymade in the cupboards, and I wasn't keen on waiting a whole hour while an actual cake was baking. So I made this mug cake. I used the last of my Valrhona cocoa powder and some awesome Callebaut Belgian chocolate chips. The result tasted sweet and light like Kinderchocolade. 

No picture today, I bet you know exactly what it will look like anyway. If not, just Google 'chocolate mug cake'.

3 tbsp plain flour
2 tbsp demerara sugar
5 tsp cocoa powder
1/4 tsp baking powder
1 tbsp rapeseed oil
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
3 tbsp milk
small handful chocolate chips

Mix the flour, sugar, cocoa and baking powder with a fork in a decent size mug. Pur in the oil, vanilla extract and milk and stir. Drop in the chocolate nibs, leaving them sort of floating on top. Microwave 40 seconds on 800 Watt. 

Eat. 

Truly, madly, pop up crazy

We love pop up, we love street food, we love moveable feasts. Paying an entrance fee to be allowed to eat someplace doesn’t seem to be a problem, nor does queueing up, canteen-stylie, to get your fare. Have we lost our minds?

All over Europe, they’ve popped up like crazy this summer. Once the sad little side show at music festivals and fun fairs, they have become the main attraction themselves. The food truck is pushing the restaurant out of the picture. 

The pop up aspect of these kitchens-on-wheels is what seems to appeal most of all. They are there when you are there, just when you need them most. In theory. Because in practice, it’s you traveling to the food festival which often involves a bigger trek than popping into your local café. On your doorstep they are not.

The chefs in these food trucks, on food bikes or even in vintage little caravans have to work under less than ideal circumstances. A small kitchen, a limited amount of gear and the work pressures of your average maccie D’s. It’s like asking a window washer to do without a ladder, an artist without a studio or a butcher without a block. It’s doable, sure, but you can’t really expect them to work miracles, can you? So how come that curry, kept warm for hours on end, is so expensive?

I can hear you thinking: but I love that there’s so much so choose from! And indeed, when you take the whole of the festival and see it as one big happy restaurant, the wide choice is certainly a bonus. You’ll have to queue up for each singular item separately, though, to collect your full meal. Plus once for the wine. Your food will get cold, you have to squat because all the chairs are taken and, to add insult to injury, you have to tidy up your own mess. Value for money? I beg to differ.

Yet, there I go, running excitedly towards the next food festival. Have I lost my mind?

Eat a lot (not): Bretzel Company, Neukölln

I like writing about things I like, but unfortunately this bretzel at the Bretzel Company wasn't one of them. After having been taught the German art of bretzel loving by a huge bellied psychiatrist in Bavaria, I had high hopes for this place. Was this going to be the best bretzel experience to be had in Berlin? 
 
But come 4pm on a Thursday afernoon, what was supposed to be a fresh bretzel made 'the old artisan way' was dry, sawdusty and pretty horrible. Shame, shame shame ... shame on Bretzel Company.

Bretzel Company, Lenaustrasse 10, 12047 Berlin, website

Eat a lot: Café-Restaurant Louis, Rixdorf

When Gordon Ramsay talks, I don't tend to listen. I think it's the way he bossily says 'Yes?!' after everything that makes me want to stick my fingers in my ears and go: 'La la laaaaa...' at the top of my voice.

But you only have to watch one or two of his Kitchen Nightmares shows to pick up on his golden rule: restaurants should keep their menu simple. Offer less not more, is his most repeated piece of advice. (That, and to strip the interior, regardless of what the decor is.)

Louis on the Rixdorfer Platz manages to ignore both of Ramsay's rules wholeheartedly. Their menu boasts a staggering 209 items, nealy all of them carnivore specials. Despite all these dishes on offer, everyone seems to come for the same thing: the Riesenschnitzel. And for good reason. It really is enormous, but it's so crispy, so perfectly salty and so delicious that you go home with a doggy bag that isn't nearly as full as you'd anticipated.

We gave it our best shot. Then we took the remainder and fed it to our twins. 'Wurst!' they shouted - their enthousiastic response to all things meaty. And then they ate the lot.

Café-Restaurant Louis, Richardplatz 5, 12055 Berlin, 030 6810210, website, open daily from 11am till 11pm

Eat a lot: La Bolognina, Neukölln

This is where I go when I fancy a take away lunch or some premade fresh pasta. I know it's homemade, by lads who know what they're doing and do it well. Everything is fresh, delicious and, when you choose to eat in, perfectly cooked. The portions are decent too.

 

Fresh pasta in the making

 Last time I went they had a choice of spinach and ricotta ravioli, tagliatelle and wholegrain strozzapreti with a tomato, pesto or butter and sage sauce.They also sell Italian olive oil per litre (€14) which I know is a hit with the Italians in the area. I would have taken a bottle, had my wallet not been a few euro short (no card payments here).

Perfect ravioli filled with spinach, ricotta and a dusting of nutmeg

Helion Torrone candy: nothing but almonds, sugar and candied fruit

It's simply not worth making my own ravioli when I have these guys on my doorstep.

La Bolognina, Donaustraße 107, Berlin, 01577 8712004, facebook page, open Mon, Wed and Thu 12-7pm, Tue, Fri and Sat 12-10pm.

Mural

Eat a lot: Das Lokal, Mitte

Some restaurants deserve a visit based on their reputation alone. Lokal is one of those restaurants. It opened in 2012 so it's hardly new, and has been reviewed by everyone and their cousin. My friend sends all her Dutch visitors there so I reckon half of my countrymen have been there before me. I could have easily skipped it and pretended to have 'been there, done that'. But I hadn't, so I didn't.

 

The menu was the sort of minimalist affair you see a lot nowadays, showcasing just a list of ingredients. The focus is on what's in your dish, rather than the way it will be prepared for you. This may be great if you have an allergy, but if you'd like to know whether your chosen food will be served raw or boiled, pureed or jellied, you're lost.

All the 'now' ingredients were there though: offal, game, bitter leaves, funky new grains and various artichokes and root vegetables.

I went for the buttermilk pancake (€16), which came with a promise of emmer wheat, rote bete, knollenziest, rotkohl and chicoree. The actual plate was stacked high with food and seemed to contain loads more than was listed. It made for a tasty, large, nutritious meal that lacked a little in finesse and looks, but made up for it in flavour and adventure. It was certainly innovative for a vegetarian main.

Not quite what I was expecting when I ordered the buttermilk pancake

The choice of desserts was also a simplistic one: two sweet options, one cheese and no chocolate. No chocolate? I was so discombobulated I went for the cheese (€10), which I then had to pick & mix from a list on a school blackboard: blue cheese, bergkäse, Gouda, a sheep's brie and goat's cheese among them.

The pick & mix cheese board

So now I've been there, done that. I'll happily send visitors to Lokal knowing that it will fill stomachs and make for a great Berliner experience. And if they put some chocolate on the menu, I may even come back.


Das Lokal, Linienstraße 160, 10115 Berlin, 03028449500, website, open Mon - Sun from 5.30pm