u m a m i

Berlin 2: Currywurst & Caramel

                      

Berlin is the home of currywursts, or at least that's what I read somewhere. As husband had escaped eating it the first time I wasn't about to let him get away again, so when we saw a stall outside KaDeWe we bought a serving of currywurst mit pommes frites. In the end though, we spent more time taking the picture than eating it. No, I am wrong, I did not even eat the currywurst, the sausage was as plastic as the forks I had no choice but to spit my first bite out.

                     

Our guidebook did say though, that Curry 36 serves the best version in town. We duly made out way over to this area that doesn't have much of an attraction -well, other than a cemetery and as you probably know, Chinese people never visit cemeteries on holiday no matter how famous it is- save for this hallmark snack. It is easy to find, just take the underground to Mehringdamm and surprise, it's at number 36 along the road of the same name. Many others were already crowding the stall by the time we arrived.

                     

Through the window we saw the sausages cooking. The sausages already have knicks cut into them which is interesting, I don't remember other stalls doing this step. And the sausages actually looked normal and hmm, appetising.

                     

After standing for nearly 20 minutes under that big orb of deep-fried smoky oily miasma we finally emerged with a plate of currywurst mit pommes frites and a bottle of Coca-Cola and stood ourselves at one of the tall tables. Was it worth all our trouble? Yes, absolutely. The sausages were meaty and juicy with a nice snap when bitten into. The frites were quite OK, as in they were of the frozen type but freshly fried in an oil that didn't seem too stale, and were well salted throughout. The only thing I didn't like was the tomato ketchup, it had an offputing sandy mushy texture with zero taste. The curry powder that was sprinkled over both the ketchup-ed and unketchup-ed parts was also surprisingly not harsh or grainy, quite pleasant actually. In no time at all we had finished our snack, and husband even declared a liking for it.

                     

After eating and drinking, we returned out empty bottle to the cashier and guess what? They returned us some coins. Incidentally, at home we're now back to drinking regular Coca-Cola now, the Diet/ Light version that we get in France tastes more chemical than cola so I thought it best to go for the real sugar version instead.

                     

Another place that is worth mentioning is Monsieur Vuong. We kind of stumbled into this place while shopping in the Mitte area. Back home I googled the place and realized even the NYTimes had written about it. Anyway, we were shopping, and it was raining on and off, mainly on, and we were feeling a bit hungry because our early lunch of sushi and noodles a few street up were too spare. In that gloomy weather this cafe seemed like an oasis with its chill-pepper walls and tables crowded with people slurping noodle salads from big bowls.

Be careful also, if you visit their website, or if you take their free postcards, you will be confronted with the smirking grinning face of presumably, Monsieur Vuong.  It could also be the same man who darts energetically  around the cafe- short, over-muscled but older than the poster image. Not important really. The other waitstaff were young Germans, they seemed a bit harried but were helpful when communicating with customers.

It was crowded when we visited at the tail end of lunch time, as people came in to shelter from the rain. In one table, an old Chinese lady ate her noodles with dignified grace. In another, a group of earnest intellectual types drank their soy and health shakes, in yet another corner a strapping blond family with two mini-strapplings were handling their chopsticks with remarkable dexterity. We were lucky to snag a small table next to the bar, right in the middle of the room. 

                     

There's two types of noodles or rice salad compositions on the daily menu. Husband had the noodles with beef curry, I had the chicken with rice. I think. Honestly I can't remember the details now, but all in, it wasn't too bad. The curry components were mild yet fragrant with lemongrasses and herbs, and the heaps of raw vegetables on top would have been quite a nuisance to get through but we managed somehow. It was a welcome change from the Vietnamese joints of Paris which cannot be bothered to move on from their predictable menus, plastic tablecloths, garish figurines and offhand service. 

                     

The coffee was lovely, so was a beautifully trembly-silky smooth caramel flan speckled with sesame seeds. All warm and delicious inside, we were almost reluctant to leave, but the other customers were straining to get in so we dragged ourselves away, ready for more shopping.

Berlin, the Wiener Schnitzel Chronicles

                        

In Berlin, the hotel gave us a room with a view. A view of the churches book-ending the vaste esplanade of Gendarmenmarkt and Konzerthaus. All the accumulated tensions from the flight, the constant rains and the car-journey through the numerous road diversions evaporated as soon as I drew the curtains and opened the windows. We could hear classical music floating in the air, it just so happened that we came on the weekend of the summer open air concerts right next door. Every evening of our stay, we only had to wander around the square and be surrounded by classical music and beautiful architecture. Things just doesn't get better than this, is it any wonder that I have fallen in love with Berlin?

                        

We had made no plans for dinner. Lutter & Wegner, the concierge informed me, was fully booked but he helped us with reservations for the next evening. In the meantime, he directed us to Brasserie a street corner away. We went along with his suggestion as it was close to nine in the evening and the rains showed no signs of abating. Brasserie, in spite of its boring name, is actually a very handsome and comfortable place. Think deep leather banquettes, polished chrome fixtures, large gilded mirrors and bright modern art with soft lighting.

The menu was not big, the usual grilled meats, soups, salads and pastas forming the line-up in a somewhat generic way. We started with soups, a tomato consomme for husband and a seafood fish soup for me, prettily garnished with cute foods like fried quail egg, little fish dumplings and pink just-cooked prawns; bright and interesting though the seafood broth was just a slight improvement on the ready-mix standard. We fared better with our mains. On the menu there is a selection of flammkuchen or flambeed tarts. Sounding like a variation of pizza, the classical version is topped with bacon, onion, creme fraiche and cheese. It was delicious, the topping salty and rich, the crust that desirable mix of crisp and chewy.

But Brasserie for me will always be the place where I experienced my Wiener Schnitzel epiphany. Finding nothing terribly interesting in the menu, I decided on impulse to go for this ubiquitous menu staple. It came in a hefty piece, flanked by a mound of cold potatoes dressed in a yoghurt cucumber sauce, decorated with a little garnish of lemon twist,  anchovy and caper. The crumb was light and crisp and the meat was juicy and flavourful, especially for such a delicate meat such as veal. The combination was more than the sum of its parts, hanging in there too was something deeply savoury, with a hint of nuttiness. It may have been the garnish swaying my judgment but I could have sworn there was anchovy either in the marinade or the breading. I kept saying to husband how good it was, and pretty soon I worked through the whole piece, and you know what, even the last bite was still crispy and yummy. I asked the waiter what was in the dish. Meat, breadcrumbs, salt and pepper, he thinks, shrugging his shoulders helplessly as if to say 'I am not the cook'. Perhaps it's just that, or there is a secret recipe, but whatever the case, this is a magnificient thing if done right.

We walked back to the hotel in the rain, now pouring harder than before, our tummies warm and hearts glad. Sleep came quickly. Wiener Schnitzels filled my dreams.

                     

The next day was Saturday, a day for shopping. The metro stations have cool grey platforms accented with colourful post-war fixtures and retro-coloured trains. The shops in the triangle between Weinmeister Strasse, Sophienkinhe and Neue Synagoge are small, eclectic and diverse with its mix of slightly subversive street fashion and trendy boutiques, quiet niche-cafes and little side streets leading to backyard zen gardens and studio spaces. Husband was happy to find a small shop selling Manaresi coffee, which makes a most satisfying cup of espresso.

                     

Dinner at Lutter & Wegner. We ate at the Lutter & Wegner Gendarmenmarkt location. The original restaurant was started in this neighbourhood in 1811 but closed during the cold war period though an outlet in Charlottenburg, the western part of the city, continues till today. After the collapse of the wall, the restaurant was rebuilt near the original site. At least this is what I discovered from the Internet.

                     

What is important is that it is absolutely a lovely restaurant, venerable institution or not. The dining room is large with high ceilings, spacious booths, leather seats, yes, a stuffed crow on the bar top, and the atmosphere one of lively buzz. The clientele is mainly affluent local and foreign tourists age 40 and above. Since it was my birthday we shared a triple-decker appetiser selection which was fun and visually interesting but the only item I really enjoyed was a small serving of beef tartare.

                   

I decided on Sauerbraten since this is their prize-winning dish. Sauerbraten, a German couple at the next table kindly educated me, is a typical German dish of roasted meat served in its vinegary cooking sauce. The description sounds tempting enough and it turned out to be a good idea. The beef had taken on the flavours from the hearty yet mildly acidic sauce making it rich yet not too heavy. The accompaniments of braised cabbages were excellent too.

                   

Husband enjoyed his fish, grilled and served whole. I bet he was the only diner there that ate both the flesh and skin. So many times have I observed Europeans peeling back the skin of fish and not eating it, how I wish they realise what they are missing out on.

During dinner I noticed that Wiener Schnitzel made an appearance at every table. Even though my Sauerbraten was good I wished I had ordered the schnitzel instead.

                  

The next day, we went sighseeing. The sun decided to come out and play too. These pictures were taken from our sightseeing bus.                   

                  

The tourists sites are very spread out, we didn't have much time so we concentrated on the stunning collections of the Pergammon museum.                               

                  

For lunch we went to Lowenbrau beergarden behind our hotel. Because this is the concierge's top recommendation for Wiener Schnitzel. And I already decided I was only going to eat scnitzels for the rest of my stay. Not a bad idea to go to Lowenbrau actually, considering that we wanted our lunch at nearly 3 pm after we were done with the museum.

I ordered the Knodel (dumpling) soup because I was not happy with what I tried in Munich and wanted to give it another chance. Lowenbrau's version was much better, the dumpling although it appeared huge, was quite lightly packed and tasted meaty and liverish instead of bready. Unfortunately the soup, as usual, never managed to break through its salty ready mix mantle.

                  

Husband's sausage and sauerkraut was supposed to come with 6 sausages but maybe the cook felt generous that day. The sauerkraut was, to my naive tastebuds, To Die For, orgasmic. I think they put bacon inside.

                  

My Wiener Shnitzel came. In two pieces, small to under-medium sized. Looking a little overfried. Thick. And thickly breaded. Not terribly good but serviceable for everyday I suppose. I much much preferred their potato sides, warm tender potatoes mixed with parsley and bacon bits, this I finished but not the veal.

                

Then it was off to do more sightseeing.

                  

That night we ate at Lutter & Wegner again, because I had to try the schnitzel else it would always haunt me. The veal came in a gratifyingly large piece, perfectly fried, thinly pounded and crumbed to a delicious meat: breading ratio. But not as full-on in flavour as the Brasserie version, but still very pleasing in its own understated way. The potato sidekick would have been more interesting if served warm but with all that meat they didn't really have much of a chance. Still, I found the last few bites a tad monotonous, so the score at that point was Brasserie-1, Lutter & Wegner - a very close second and Lowenbrau a distant third.

Is that all? Of course not. I had already read in the Hachete "Un Grand Week-end A Berlin" that the place to eat in Berlin is Borchardt. Another grande dame restaurant, this turn-of-the century institution is a super-trendy place that is not easy to get into. We know because we tried calling them from Paris and the phone number listed in the phone was not correct, and also our hotel concierge flat-out told us that it is impossible to get in with our short notice. But we made one final effort, asking the night concierge- actually the very sweet lady receptionist standing in for the concierges - she made a phone call and voila, I had a Monday lunch appointment.

Borchardt (47 Franzosische Strasse) occupies a beautiful space with very high ceilings, grey-red marble columns and a magnificient mosaic floor. It is where the beautiful people go to see and be seen, too bad I couldn't recognise any German personalities. I am sure my fellow diners were models, celebrities, talkshow hosts and politicians, they all had such polished appearances and keep hopping the tables to air-kiss and press hands. The service was efficient and cold. They took the coat of the tall white gentleman in front but did not extend the same courtesy to me. They put me in a table away from all the celebrity action, and when I asked if I can take pictures they say no but softened the disappointment with a forced fake smile.

But the food was worth the little irritations. I started with a gorgeous cold cucumber soup, redolent with dill and enlivened with cold shrimps. It was refreshing and oddly spicy in a nice tingly way, absolutely delicious. The Wiener Schnitzel, when it came, was very impressive in size, for I had not shirked and decided on the regular not half-sized portion. Breading was crisp, nutty and light, encasing perfectly seasoned meat. It was a little more flavourful than Lutter & Wegner's, but not nearly as savoury as Brasserie's, a nice balance between the two if we have to split hairs.

After that lunch, Brasserie was moved down a notch and Borchardt, for now, is my champion for Wiener Schnitzel. But Lowenbrau gets top marks for its potato side dish. Only thing is, all these within a what, 500 m radius of our hotel. There must be so much more shnitzel action happening elsewhere in the city....

Munich 2. Cafe Wiener

                  

The weather improved somewhat on our last and third day in Munich. Cloudy with occasional drops of rain but a whole lot clearer. I decided to walk to Reichenbach Strasse to do some shopping. Some streets are named after foods, cute.

                  

It was still early, the shops were not open yet, ao I decided to have a little coffee and chanced upon the Cafe Wiener (8, Reichenbach Strasse). Or rather, the pretty display of cakes stopped me in my tracks and lured me inside. It was also "bio", the Germans are very into organic food, and I was curious to see how the bio-ness would affect the final product.

                  

More cakes, tarts and strudels were laid out on the counters inside. Because of the soft lighting and crystal chandeliers the last thing I was expecting was the sound of new age music but there it was, strains of prayer bells and chantings could be heard in the background. A man and a woman, both of a certain age, welcomed me with gentle courtesy, they do not speak English so we communicated by pointing and sign language. Coffee is universally understood, I ordered a cup and went to choose my cake.

                

It seems like most of their cakes were multilayered affairs sandwiched with whipped creams of various alcoholic flavours. All are good, they said to me, which made it harder to choose. In the end I opted for a berry liqueur flavoured slice.

                

I sat near the window and enjoyed the charming Viennese-inspired atmosphere decorated with an un-selfconscious mix of old and beautiful objects.

               

The cream cake was delicious, more cream than cake. The slightly boozy cream filling was super-creamy and super-light, probably super fat as well, but completely irresistible. I threw caution to the winds and finished the entire slice by myself, helped along by the coffee which was well brewed to a smooth mellow body with gorgeous aroma. 

By the time I finished, the sun had peeked through and the shops were ready to welcome people. I bought myself little gifts like an English teapot made for one, a silver clutch purse from Amsterdam and a brushed gold ring with seed pearls, then walked the longer scenic route way back to the hotel, more opportunities for taking pictures. Soon it was time to take the train to the airport. Two and a half days is barely touching the surface of all that Munich can offer; if there is a next time, I would definitely explore more of their cafe culture and lose myself in their galleries and museums. 

Munich 1. My Porky ToyTown Adventure

                      

The taxif fare from the Franze Josef Strauss International Airport to Munich city centre cost nearly 60 euros. Munich is definitely more expensive than Bonn, but it also has a lot more going for it. Being in the Bavarian region with its fertile lands and glorious history of flamboyant kings and dreamers gives it a more fairytale like quality. There is beauty and space and culture. Too many museums and galleries for a short 2.5 day trip. The standard of living is the highest in Germany and it tops the list of cities most Germans want to live in. The English speaking community even call it Toytown.

As husband had only the half day to sightsee we decided on spending time in the smaller Lenbachhaus instead of vast imposing Glyptothek diagonally opposite. We had just enough time to see their proudest collection which showcases the Blue Rider art group. Blue Rider? Us phillistines have of course never heard of Blue Rider, the museum guides could hardly contain their amazement. If you haven't seen it, you should. It was unforgettable, and also very famish-making. In the plane we were served what appeared to be pita sandwiches, but it was like they squished mystery meat-mayo paste between two disks and then cut the sandwich into four pieces. Each passenger gets a pathetic one quarter piece along with a small canned drink. Air France economy class food.

                      

It was raining outside the Italian villa building when we finished so we decided to rest in the airy courtyard cafe and eat the last panini in the display counter plus a slice of apple tart. Service was quietly efficient and courteous, food was not bad either.

                     

We made our way to the old city centre of Marienplatz and explored all the requisite churches and important buildings. For dinner we went to Haxnbauer which the hotel concierge had enthusiastically recommended. We should have heeded the X sign instead.

The restaurant is large like a barn and decorated inoffensively with wooden chairs, granny-type paintings and woodbeams everywhere. The door manager was bossy, the waiters rushed but occasionally smiled and even made deadpan jokes. Every table was occupied by out-of-town visitors. Yep,we have indeed walked into a good old fashioned tourist trap. But I reckon not as bad as the rowdy Hofbrauhaus a few streets away, that one even has an oompah band.....

                     

The Knodel (dumpling) was cute, the small one that is, but not the big one. The soup tasted like packet Knorr's. I ordered a pancake soup because I saw a group of Japanese tourists do so and very much regretted the decision, the strips of pancakes were adequate but again, the soup base was pure salt and artificial flavourings.

                     

Their signature dish is trotters, pork or veal, grilled on rotating spits. Husband had to have some. The meat was strangely lacking in meaty flavours with suitably crisp skin but the dominating taste was also of salt. Better for the beer orders perhaps. The sauerkraut was very good though, served hot, it wasn't just sour, but mellow sour, with discernible other tastes of mustards, spices and meats, hinting at long gentle cooking and complex fermentations. I could happily make a meal of it, it was certainly more interesting than my order of Wiener Scnitzel which was made with more of the flavourless meat.

                     

But they must have a reason for staying so long in business. Our neighbours were happy.

                     

For breakfast, I tried another local specialty. Weisswurst, or white sausages. Forgettable. (Update: This plate was composed by me, from the hotel restaurant buffet spread, hence the beans and potatoes. The sausage was served in a separate section, and they provided sweet mustard which is pictured here at the 2 pm part of the plate.)

                     

Then it was off to a day of hopping on and off the tourist bus. It was the kind of day where the sun and clouds hid behind a big grey canvas and the unceasing soft rain made everything gloomy. 

                     

By 2.30 pm I was again, starved. I got off the bus at trendy university neighbourhood of Schwabbing and vaccillated between shopping and looking for lunch. One of the boutique owners was standing outside his shop and we started talking. I asked him to recommend a place to eat. He suggested pasta or sushi, Germans usually eat German food in winter he said. Otherwise it is too hot and heavy. Still, I haven't come all the way to Germany to eat sushi, so I continued and finally settled randomly on a bar with a bulldog on the signboard graphic.

A quick google shows that Alter Simpl is famous but I didn't know it at that time. At night it is probably quite true that it is crowded and smoky but well, at 2.30 pm on a wet weekday afternoon it was not. There were only two other tables in the front room that were occupied, and the waitress was very helpful.

                   

The menu listed standard items like pasta, salads, sausages (even curry wurst), steaks etc. I was very hungry and wanted some spatzle, so I ordered the only dish listed that comes with it as an accompaniment. It turned out to be grilled pork chops in a creamy sauce with mushrooms and salad. Their idea of salad is kind of abbreviated though. Still, it was very yummy. The pork pieces were nicely charred outside and still pink and juicy inside, the rich cream sauce coating delicious and well seasoned, i.e. not just a tonne of salt. I ate up all the meat and even managed about a third of the spatzle before remembering I wanted to eat dessert too.

                   

For desserts, the waitress heartily endorsed their Kaiserschmarrn, which she informed me was pancakes with raisins served with apple sauce. (Ivan ate the same thing in Singapore recently, curiously enough). She didn't say a big pile of pancakes but that was what I got. A mountain of pancakes. Light, fluffy cakes with nice chew, some with almost crisp edges, dusted with icing sugar. Very good, even without the apple sauce. She noticed I could only eat a few slices and unhesitatingly offered to pack the rest for me to take away. I really like the down-to- earth attitude of the people here. 

                   

Outside, it was still raining. I decided it was not wise to visit the English Garden, and did some more shopping before taking the bus back to Marienplatz. The bus dropped us off next to the Victualien Market, lots of food shopping there. I saw people walking out of a butcher shop munching what looked like a spam sandwich. Next door to the butcher shop I saw people queuing for, again, the spamwich lookalike so I duly took a place. The young man at the counter explained that it is called Leberkassemel, and the spammy thingy is Leberkase, and sliced from a rectangular loaf of processed meats. I ordered one with mustard and it was quite excellent. Not spamlike in taste, it was more like moist porky sausagemeats but with homogenous texture instead of meaty chunks. Not bad, I managed to eat half before being overcome with guilt and faint quesiness that is associated with eating so much pink meat.

The walk home took another hour or so. Husband had dinner appointment at a fancy restaurant. Instead of venturing out again into the miserable weather for my dinner, I did the next best thing which was to buy a big bag of black cherries and a jar of blood orange juice to eat in peace in the hotel room. No more pork,. I certainly had enough that the next time I think of Munich, it would be of the regret that I didn't get up close to the Trojan horse statue outside Glyptothek, and also of the vast amounts of pork consumed.                        

Bonn- not exactly a food destination

                        

Tomorrow we go to Germany again. This time we cover the scenic city of Munich as well as edgy Berlin. Berlin, woo hoo!

But first, Bonn. I liked Bonn very much,  it is a quiet, laid back city with minimal street pollution and amiable, non-dysfunctional people who never gave us any attitude for being a tourist or for not knowing any German. In other words this is a very stress-free place. There is also not much to do, half a day is more than enough for sightseeing, which means one has to spend the rest of the time shopping and reading in cafes. (Pictures of quiet streets and statue of Beethoven in flickr stream.)

The eating, how was it? I wasn't expecting much to begin with, and was also quite unprepared because there isn't much information on the good old internet on this topic. On our first day we asked the hotel for restaurant recommendations and they pointed us to traditional restaurant-microbrewery Sudhaus. Ghastly would be an understatement. Blood sausages and mashed potatoes with apple sauce brought to mind geriatric baby food, the stale caramelised onion further exarcebating that impression. Husband's bratwurst was served with 'seasonal vegetables' of fava beans dressed in a weird tacky white sauce.

                        

Fried potato cakes with three cheeses sound good but in reality the cakes were mushy all the way through in spite of their brown exterior. Inexplicably too, they were topped with boiled potatoes. We couldn't finish even a third of the food on our table.

                        

Ater Sudhause we avoided German food for two days. Then I saw on the menu of the cafe Muller-Longhardt a dish of Swiss style veal casserole with spatzle which I had to order because I've never had spatzle before. It was good, the spatzle had a fresh toothsome bite and the meat sauce was meaty and rich with sour cream. Hearty food without any pretensions.

                      

The city centre is where all the major monuments and retail outlets, including WMF and Henckel-Zwillig, are located. There is a small market in the city square which opens from morning till evening, every day, do you hear this Ms Paris? And many many bread shops. Berliners are 0.49 euros a piece. Ice cream scoops start at 0.60 euros. Bonn is not an expensive place, many things are at least twice or thrice cheaper than in Paris. There is even a 1-euro shop! And vice is well catered for, with beer gardens, cigarette shops and se*x shops everywhere.

                      

Currywurst is popular with the locals. I had expected the curry to be more of a sauce but here it is actually a ketchup plus curry powder. Not inedible, but once is definitely more than enough. Let's see if it is better in Berlin.

                     

Nordsee is a fast food chain specialising in fish sandwiches. The Germans also like their pickled herrings and smoked fishes. I enjoyed my fish burger, the fish was flaky and fresh, the fries were hot and crisp and the aioli was served in a cute edible cone.

                     

By far my favourite place in Bonn was a cafe along 54, Breite Strabe. Frau Holle is a kind of collective of boutique, art gallery and cafe. The cafe has leather-upholstered seats, fresh flowers in vases and a playlist of retro American tunes.

                     

The cafe manager was friendly, efficient and seems to know everybody in the neighbourhood. He boils water in the big gilded heater and makes a good cup of coffee. The food was simple but good, the ham sandwiches made with Parma ham, and orange cake  buttery and well flecked with orange zests.

                     

Just across the street from Frau Holle is San Telmo at number 55, which serves very good tapas at again, not very high prices. The chorizos were amazing, we had to restrain ourselves from ordering a second portion. Grilled sardines were also very fresh, they hardly needed the accompanying sauce. We tried the seafood paella, the rice was tasty with generous amounts of seafood but lacked the necessary aroma and character of saffron.

There are also a lot of Italian places here. Italy was the most popular holiday destination for the Germans in the past, and they acquired the taste for Italian food. Husband's associates recommended Pizzeria Tuscolo a little further up the Zentrum at 51 Reichsstr, it is the only Italian joint in town with a wood-fired oven. The pizzas were good, with chewy thin crusts and chummy waiters but it is a bit of a walk from the city centre.

Bonn, it may not be a culinary capital, but there is no danger of starvation here.