Everybody has their own perfect comfort food. There’s comfort foods that are best served solo—like congee, macaroni and cheese, grated apple—and then there’s comfort food that’s meant to be shared: popcorn, fried chicken, fresh mango, soup dumplings, or cheese fondue. None of these are as much fun, or as delicious, when consumed alone on your couch. Hot pot is clearly a dining experience of the latter, shared variety.
Author: Florian Duijsens
After perusing your exciting recommendations here on the blog and on Facebook, I tried a burger at BBI (Berlinburger International), which turned out to be a charming hole in the wall. We sat outside, trying to place the more outlandish outfits on the slippery spectrum between accidental and intentional hipsterism, and the burgers were fine, just fine; a little on the thin and dry side perhaps, but tasty enough. Nothing to shout about on this blog though, unlike our second recommendation: Prenzlauer Berg’s Marienburger.
Forget about Robin Thicke, Justin Timberlake, Pharrell. Heck, forget Daft Punk. This summer should belong to the likes of Ciara, of Lorde, Kate Boy, and CHVRCHES. Yes, Miley too. Open those double windows, blast this off your balcony, take it to a lake, a park, Kotti. Have a great Berlin summer, y’all, we’ll be rooting for you.
When ‘explaining’ Berlin to newcomers, I often tell a story from when I worked for a Berlin city guide and called a new restaurant about their opening hours only to be met with gruff suspicion: Why did I want to know? And what would I do with this information? And although the commercial climate here has changed a little since that conversation almost six years ago, some of our favorite locations would still prefer to fly under the digital radar, relying exclusively on passersby and Kiez word-of-mouth, all not to alienate Berlin’s notoriously anti-branding customers. Then there are other places, places really making an effort to make a bigger blip online. Feliu, for instance, insisted we come down to Pflügerstrasse, graciously offering us an evening of Catalan cuisine and tart white wine.
For my second visit to the Schöneberg cocktail scene (find my report of the first here), my friend suggested Salut, an exclamation-mark adorned place I must have walked by a hundred times on my way to her house from Nollendorfplatz.