Hungry in Berlin

Well, it’s not Oktoberfest — yet that’s probably a good thing. Starting Friday, 1 August and running through Sunday, 3 August is the “Internationale Berliner Bierfestival,” the self-proclaimed “longest biergarten in the world.” Some 240 breweries from over 80 countries serving up some 1,800 types of brew will be lining the “biermeile” along Karl-Marx-Allee in Friedrichshein. The good news (for those of us who have a preference that we often, given the present surroundings and fear of the small print in the Reinheitsgebot, keep to ourselves) is that this year’s theme is Czech beer — with 32 Czech breweries, big and small, in attendance. But never fear, as this is still very much a German festival, with breweries grouped by region (with freaky groups such as “Middle Ages beer“? Beats me.) And for Americans missing a taste of home, of course, the U.S. Belgian concern Budweiser will be there.

Entrance is free; the beer will cost you. Here’s a list of participants. Zum Wohl!

You’d never expect a good micro-brewery and ersatz biergarten to be tucked away behind a few looming Neubauen in Wedding. But it’s there, the Eschenbräu, big brass tanks gleaming in an Innenhof window, and kegs of tasty wheat beer, dark and light on tap. Aimee and I visited earlier this week, and their seasonal Maibock was out, so we stuck with the regulars.

I’m not one of those beer guys who can talk brew for hours. But I have good friends who are, and a brother who is, and so I’ve picked up a pretty good beer palate. These were good, and fresh, something that’s hard to come by this far north, as good as much of the beer is.

The light, a pils style, was rich and live-tasting, creamier than most bottled beers here, though not quite like what you’d get in München. The dark was very nice, I think an amber ale style rather than a real German Dunkel, malt-heavy and a little sweet. Rich and complex, and like the light, fresh.

This Friday, they’re kicking off the new seasonal brew, a Bayerisch Hell, by offering Weißwürste und Brez´n, and beer in the traditional Ma­ß. Yum.  Find it at Triftstr. 67. And thanks to Gridskipper, and their plug for Wedding, for the tip.

To follow up a previous post (and a nice reminder by the Tagespiegel this morning), here’s a couple more links to berry pastures in and around the greater Berlin area.

A list of pick-it-yerself berry patches: Selbstpflücke Erdbeeren

And for those who want berries closer to home, here’s info for Berliner Beerengarten. Click on the links for the individual gardens to get per-kilo prices; the map is handy, too!

As a native Californian, I speak culinary Spanish (with an emphasis on the Mexican dialect). Four years of college in San Diego proved that a person can gladly and happily live on rice and beans (and salsa and tortillas) alone. And although my Heimstadt gave birth what has come to be known as the “San Francisco burrito” (see Dolores in Mitte for an up-market, but not totally authentic, version), nothing beats a homemade feast of carnitas, frijoles refritos, handmade tortillas and smoky, spicy salsa. Us gringos celebrate Cinco de Mayo (Mexican military victory over the French, 1862; gradually morphed into a “hooray for all things Mexican” celebration in the U.S., sponsored by Corona) with food. I’m going to focus on the proteins in this post — how to make carnitas, or boiled-then-fried pork shoulder, and refried beans. See “part dos” for a how-to on flour tortillas and chipotle salsa — with ingredients that can be found all here in Berlin. Read the rest of this entry »

The fact that ice balls have been falling from the sky for the last week only makes me hungrier for food that implies sun. Cheeses, olives, pasta, tomatoes… you know. Mediterranean. Italian.

I’m not a bad hand at fresh pasta, but having grown up in a household decidedly short on Italian mothers, I can always use a little help. I’m guessing a lot of the rest of you are in the same boat. So if you’re looking to brush up on your Italian cooking skills, tomorrow’s class at Goldhawn and Sampson in Prenzlauer might be worth looking into.

It’s being run by former Hazelwood co-owner Suzy Fracassa, focusing on the creation of a simple top-to-bottom home-cooked meal, and based on her own family’s recipes. She’ll run through an entire menu: Piedmontese garlic-anchovy veggie dip, roasted bell peppers and fresh ricotta for starters; a polenta with salsiccia ragu for a middle course, veal scallopini with sautéed zucchini blossoms for the main course, and naturally, homemade biscotti for desert).

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So, we came; we got crushed; we griped about it. Green Week at the ICC in Charlottenburg (runs through Sunday, Jan. 27) made me and the rest of the HIB team feel like cows in a herd, and offered no surprises in the way of world cuisine. While I’m well aware that most world cultures have some form of mystery meat that comes cylinder-shaped, I refuse to believe that’s the only delicacy we have to share with each other, as a form of how-do-you-do. Eaters of the world (and organizers of Green Week, listen up!), we can do better than this. I’ve never seen more sausage, air-dried, pepper-spiced, boiled or canned, than in the halls of the hulking ICC; and yes, I know I live in Germany. And while I realize that sausage travels better than, say, Peking duck or lamb on a spit or injera bread, it sells a culture short when the image they present is the one they think the audience wants to see. And that’s what makes me sad. The Green Week in Berlin is a fantastic opportunity to show how worldly and gastronomically savvy this city *could* (and should) be. But what’s on offer now falls embarrassingly short of even the most muted expectations. Read the rest of this entry »

Crowds are not my thing. Eating in the company of tens of thousands of other people confuses me; I get wide-eyed, the old fight-or-flee kicks in, and since neither alternative is particularly appropriate, I begin scowling at everybody until they shrivel into ashes or get out of my way. For this reason Grünewoche, a packed-to-the-rafters food convention, isn’t my ideal setting for sampling the culinary wares of the world.

But there’s a remedy. Bulgarian plum brandy, or slivovica. As will become evident, Peasant Glasses and I have a particular fondness for Eastern Europe’s (multi)national drink, and neither one of us had ever tried the Bulgarian variety. Thus, after €1.50 and a sip of surprisingly smooth spirit, darker and more oddly whiskey-like than some of the others I’ve sampled, all begin falling into place. I think it was aged in wood, although our halting, semi-shouting conversation with the stand’s proprietor failed to confirm this. Good stuff, and worth trying, if you’re a fellow aficionado.

Nerves settled, it was time to turn to our official HIB plan: figure out a €20 euro menu and stick to it.

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A smart salesman starts off with a heavy hitter. On this particular afternoon, Heribert Kastell’s first punch was his 15-percent alcohol Chardonnay. Not that the HIB team isn’t a group of seriously seasoned, er, professionals — but having weathered this powerful white wine from this equally seasoned and extremely talented Rheingau winemaker, we were primed and ready for a serious afternoon of German wine discovery. How lucky we were that Kastell was our guide.

One of the most frequent refrains I’ve heard in my short time here in the hauptstadt is, “I don’t like German wine.” Which I typically translate to mean, “I don’t understand German wine.” German wine labels can be impenetrable and intimidating; grape varieties often unfamiliar; and flavors potentially off-putting, as the common misconception that all German white wines are cloyingly sweet still lives on. Enter Heribert Kastell. Read the rest of this entry »

You can always tell when we’re in the depths of winter in Berlin. No, not just by the short photoperiod, nor the pasty faces of the folks in the street. Not even the notoriously fickle temperature is the main clue. Instead, it’s the posters showing up all over town for this year’s International Green Week, the food trade show that started in 1926 and is now enjoying its 73rd go-round between Jan. 18 and 27 at the ICC conference center. Green Week can be fun. It can also be a nightmare. I’ve been to at least ten of them, and I’ve pretty much run the gamut. I’ve discovered great stuff to eat, but never eaten anything memorable at the show itself. I’ve come across amazing products, only to never see them again. I’ve gotten amazing bargains, and bought stuff that I found a week later for half the price in my local supermarket. Each year I hope for the presence of a few exhibitors: the guy who makes sausage that’s damn near exactly Cajun sausage (but, being German, he has no idea he’s doing this); the Tunisians selling astonishing cheap olive oil; the Italian guy with the Barolo-soaked salame, so good on pizza. I also hope to make new discoveries as good as these, but, alas, in recent years it hasn’t happened. There are two major problems with Green Week, and they seem to be eternal. One is food, the other alcohol. Or maybe there’s just one problem: people. Rarely do any exhibitors set out samples. Read the rest of this entry »

It’s that time of year. A time where any hungry Berliner can waltz down to practically any corner of the city and be assaulted with Christmas celebrations—and of course, Christmas snacks. Weihnachtsmärkte (Christmas outdoor markets) all over Germany are both tradition and spectacle, chock-full of carnival rides, holiday gifts only a Frankish oma could love, and a feast of food from the good-for-you grünkohl to the decadent and undoubtedly (if not gradually) deadly schmalzkuchen.

There are a few standbys that will be familiar to anyone who’s spent lazy afternoons in biergartens, yet Weihnachtsmärkte also offer a set menu geared just for the season. Bratwurst, either moderately sized or in half-meter lengths, are in abundance; so is steak on a stick and boulette im brot. Pfanne, or sautéed foods done up in an obscenely large paella-styled skillet, are plenty: mushrooms with sauce, the aforementioned grünkohl and accompanying chicken livers (a combo that may have some historical significance, but all I can figure out is that both are rich in Vitamin A, which can aid night vision—quite necessary during Berlin’s long, dark winter days) and “asia” items, usually noodles or fried rice. Fried dough, in all its gorgeous forms, however, is the symbol of the season: our faves are listed after the jump.

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