Berlin on a Platter

Pierre Gagnaire's Les Solistes

We were invited to have dinner at Pierre Gagnaire's restaurant in the Waldorf-Astoria hotel last weekend and jumped at the chance, not only to see what the celebrated chef had in store for Berlin but, more prosaically, to have the opportunity to get dressed up and leave the house, not something we parents of a toddler do a lot these days.

The hotel is one of several buildings that have gone and are still in the process of going up in and around Zoo in an effort to change the area from a rather unlovely transitional neighborhood into a destination in what is now known (teeth-grindingly to, er, some of us) as City-West. Having grown up just a few subway stops away, I welcome the initiative, but it keeps catching me off-guard, too. To see gleaming new buildings and spit-shined sidewalks where junkies and shifty characters used to congregate. Such is life in Berlin.

Les Solistes is on the first floor of the hotel, just at the top of a winding staircase, tucked behind a wall of dark panels of wood and thick strips of glass. We were welcomed and ushered into the dining room by staff who was solicitous and ever-present without hovering or overdoing it. Our table was at the far end of the room, flanked by a chair (for Max) and a banquette (for me). Just as we were sitting down, the sommelier came around pushing a wheeled cart stocked with open bottles of Champagne. We opted for a glass of rosé Ruinart (so, so, so good) to whet our appetites and were served a small plate of amuse-bouches (a little too much on the sweet side for my taste) and other nibbles to start. A standout was a small bowl filled with a silky eggplant purée flavored with ras-el-hanout and served with whisper-thin crackers. The crackers were, in fact, so thin that they kept snapping off when we attemped to scoop up the eggplant purée, but it was a delicious pairing and a textural delight.

After that, we were given a basket of bread (from a Meisterbäcker in Hannover named Jochen Gaues - parbaked in Hannover and then finished off in the Les Solistes kitchen) and two dishes of butter, one plain and unsalted and the other salted and blended with algae. The bread was very good, though I do wonder why they aren't able to source bread here in Berlin (Brot & Butter's bread comes to mind, after all, it's equally good and just up the street from the hotel) and the butters were wonderful. The salted algae butter was more interesting, of course, but the plain one was excellent, too, tasting fresh and pure and clean, not always a given, even in high-end restaurants.

Next up was a plate of herbed, poached cod laid out on a bed of fennel salad surrounded by a smaller pool of Comté sauce and a larger pool of green herb sauce. On top was a perfect orb of hake mousse. (Pardon the color imbalance in some of my photos - the restaurant was on the dark side and my little lens could go only go so far.) The pairing of cheese with fish, though unusual, really worked. I loved the juxtaposition of the cool flakes of fish with the silky-smooth sauces and the creamy-velvety mousse on top. If this was how the meal was starting off, we were in for quite a treat indeed.

In fact, the next course, turbot poached in haddock-flavored milk, served on top of a tomato concassé and cloaked in an ethereal citrus hollandaise, was one of the best dishes I've had in memory. My husband and I, feeling both gauche and greedy, scraped our plates clean. I loved the combination of flavors, the sweetness of the tomatoes playing beautifully off the high citrus notes in the sauce, with the single grilled scallion on top of the perfectly cooked turbot anchoring it all in the here and now. This is one crowd-pleaser of a dish, both sophisticated and eminently edible.

To cleanse our palates between the fish and the main meat course, we were given a little entremet: foie gras mousse served with ever-so-tender calamari, bits of olives and chili served in a puddle of rich, dark broth, studded with a few chewy grains of barley (or farro?). It was salty and savory and very good. (Though at this point, I started to worry about how I was going to manage to eat even one bite more. I think I have may have mentioned my wussy little appetite over here the other day.)

Our meat course came plated separately. On the larger plate was a rich, gamy breast of pigeon from Poitou-Charentes served with a fantastically fruity-acidic sauce made with cherries, redcurrants and eggplant, of all things. Complex and delicious. On the smaller plate was the delicate pigeon leg, deboned and crisp-skinned, served with a little cluster of that old standby, green beans almondine, and a tiny orb of gelée made with the heart and kidneys of the bird. It was all rather spectacular, even though I could barely manage more than a few bites at this point.

But we were nowhere near the end. After all, there was still dessert.

It was forwarded by a little footed plate filled with petit fours: tiny raspberry tarts, green apple gelée, red-currant filled chocolates and (my favorites), brightly flavored lemon candy chips with strawberry "crunch". There was also a bowl filled with tiny, expertly made rose-flavored marshmallows.

The multi-course dessert started with the delivery of three dishes: the first, a tall martini glass filled with tiny pink and green meringues (rose and green-tea flavored) atop poached peaches, green tea cream and rose cream; the second, a bowl of quivering cubes of sesame parfait served with a gelée of red fruits and flavored with Indian spices (photo above); the third, a dish of citrus-poached apricots topped with julienned zucchini, a paper-thin slice zucchini encasing a grapefruit confit and a spoon of quivering Sauternes gelée.

I confess that I didn't love the martini glass concoction, though I suspect that has more to do with my feelings about rosewater than anything else. The second dish, the sesame parfait, was unusual and thought-provoking (the whisper of Indian spices against the bright, fruity berry flavor...) and very good, but the third dish, pictured above, was my absolute favorite. It was light and palate-cleansing and just what I wanted to eat after all those rich dishes. At first bite, I couldn't quite figure out what that orange tangle was. It had the silken quality of poached stone fruit, but the subtly bitter flavor of citrus. An inspired combination.

The next stage of the dessert course was two-fold. The first plate held a small narrow shot glass filled with white rum sorbet, melted rhubarb, some sugarcane syrup and hidden beneath the fruit, a single mint leaf and next to it was a large porcelain spoon holding a fine dice of browned and caramelized pear. The second plate was actually a bowl of a fanciful mixture of chocolate water, chocolate ice cream, yogurt (flavored with Gewürztraminer, unless I misremember), chocolate sorbet and caramelized nuts. I didn't expect to like the rum sorbet, but it was absolutely stunning. Somehow, the nose-wrinkling bite of the alcohol was entirely gone and all that was left behind was the fruited, complex flavor of the rum. Paired with that hidden mint leaf and the sweet-sour rhubarb, it was refreshing and interesting and just so delicious.

To cap things off, our waiter wheeled over a cart filled with metal canisters of tea and several pots of lush herbs to our table. We opted for a tisane and so, using little silver scissors, he made a mixture of sage, basil and lemon verbena for us. It was a fantastic combination (the basil adding a welcome savory note) and just the thing after our long meal.

It was truly a world-class meal - well-paced, modern, inventive, delicious - paired with excellent service that was, as I mentioned above, ever-present without hovering, solicitous without intruding. Certainly the finest restaurant I've had the pleasure of eating in in Berlin, the city is lucky to have Les Solistes join its stable. I can only hope it succeeds in luring diners from around the city to make their way over to our unlovely Zoo, to settle in and be whisked away.

Les Solistes
Waldorf Astoria Berlin
Hardenbergstrasse 28
10623 Berlin
Tel: (030) 814-0000

Chicago Williams BBQ

Forgive the hideous photo which in no way reflects the quality of our meal at Chicago Williams. It's just, the place was dark, my phone is a little old, you get the picture. Right?

The scene: Saturday afternoon, a few weeks ago. My husband and I had unexpectedly come into some unplanned babysitting hours. Suddenly, a thought. Dinner out! A date! It didn't take long to decide on where to go. Marguerite had, weeks earlier, said that Chicago Williams was among the best BBQ she'd ever had. (!) Visions of cold drinks and smoky meat danced in our heads. The last good BBQ we'd eaten was on the book tour, at Hill Country in DC. We called up, reserved a table and headed east.

At Chicago Williams, you order at the bar from a blackboard. There are platters and sandwiches and sides to choose from and the bartender will, in a pinch, help you decide. (The ribs are non-negotiable, he said, and he was right. He nudged us towards mashed potatoes, we settled on cole slaw instead.)

We ordered a platter that included three meats (pulled pork, ribs and chicken) and two sides (baked beans - our Kryptonite - and cole slaw). We'd reserved far too last-minute to get a coveted table outside and instead were seated together with a few other people at a communal table. As we waited, deafening music played. I know I sound like an old lady, but it sort of drove me nuts. I could barely hear my husband talk. Just a few decibels lower would have helped, but Chicago Williams is not the kind of place where you ask them to turn down the music. You just think to yourself: next time I'm sitting outside.

Our food came served on a plastic tray lined with a sheet of wax paper. The ribs were, in fact, delicious. The chicken was really good (even better the next day!). The pulled pork was good, too, though a little on the dry side. I like a saucy pulled pork myself. The cole slaw was heavy on the mayo, but suitably refreshing. The only miss were the baked beans - semi-crunchy and missing that oozing, melty, sticky quality that makes baked beans one of the best things on earth to eat.

Still, the BBQ was really solid. We both so enjoyed our meal. And the atmosphere, loud music notwithstanding, was fun. I'd say it's a particularly great place to go with a group.

Chicago Williams BBQ
Hannoversche Strasse 2
10115 Berlin
Tel: (030) 280 42 422

Samakki Talad Thai

On a slightly desolate stretch of the already charmless Kaiser-Friedrich Strasse, there is a Thai restaurant that I've driven by, oh, let's say hundreds of times. Although it's quite close to where we live, we never go past there on foot and somehow it's never occurred to me to stop in. When I pass it, I'm usually in the car and in a hurry to get where I'm going: doctor's office, my mother's place, the gym, errand-running.

But on Sunday we were on our way to Tiergarten to let Hugo practice walking (he wants nothing more these days than to push his stroller around until he's glassy-eyed and catatonic) and Max was hungry. He wanted to grab something quick. I rattled off the usual suspects, but nothing piqued his interest. Just then we drove past Samakki Talad Thai. "Let me run in there," he said. "I'll grab something to go." I double-parked, he ran in and a few minutes later emerged with a takeaway pot of steamed rice and chicken red curry in a knotted plastic bag. I kept expecting to see a goldfish swim up to the surface.

It was pretty delicious stuff and seriously spicy. Far more so than what I was used to. Max paid €5 for the meal and kept raving about what he'd seen inside the restaurant - chafing dishes set out with lots of interesting looking things, all the cooks speaking Thai. He was sure they were regulars at the Thai Park.

So yesterday, I went to have lunch there myself.

The place is pretty bare bones and ordering is a little confusing. There's a counter with the aforementioned chafing dishes and a few platters of fried things, a second counter with fresh vegetables laid out (the salad counter?), plus a third counter in the back that I didn't even dare approach. There's also a man (the owner?) who simply came up to me while I looked at the offerings and asked me what I wanted. I ordered a Thai fish cake and a papaya salad. "Scharf oder nicht scharf?" came the question, so of course I said "scharf". I only started getting nervous when it was repeated back to me incredulously two more times, as if to say, are you sure, you wimpy-looking lady?

The fish cake (served cold) came doused in Thai chili sauce and was...sort of chewy. I couldn't really discern the fish, but eaten with the cooling cucumbers it was nice enough.

Then came the papaya salad. And holy capsaicin, it was really, really, really spicy. It was also delicious. It hurt so bad! And tasted so good. Best of all, I got to see the cook pounding the ingredients for it together behind the counter while I waited. Somehow I managed to eat the entire thing (my method was to save the tomatoes for whenever I felt I couldn't go on anymore) and then, incredibly, was sad that it was gone. I'd say it was one of the best papaya salads I'd ever eaten.

At that point, I was full enough. But my curiousity was bigger. In the meantime, other customers had come in and ordered hot meals and everything smelled so good. So I went back to the counter and asked for a plate of ground pork and peppers spiked with chiles (there are no labels on anything, so I don't know the name for this dish, but I think it was Pad Krapow Moo - see here and here). I was warned that it was going to be spicy, but I'd survived the papaya salad, hadn't I? Nothing was going to stop me now. The ground pork was piled on top of a big plate of white rice.

And it was just fantastic. Spicy, indeed, but the rice helped me out there, and also faintly sweet and savory and saucy and aromatic (holy basil completes me) and addictively good. (Though I still only managed half of the plate and took the rest home for dinner.) It tasted like home cooking heaven.

Every dish is €5 at lunch. (The fish cake was another euro.) It's definitely going to be my new canteen.

Samakki Talad Thai
Kaiser-Friedrich Strasse 41
10627 Berlin

Pide at Özge Grill

For a long time, I didn't want to tell a single soul about Özge Grill, a little hole-in-the-wall Turkish spot around the corner from our apartment. I wanted it to stay my little secret. At first glance, it looks like every other Dönerbude in the city. The second glance, however, might tip you off - there's a wood-burning oven at the back. The cooks use it to make small rounds of bread that they serve with any of the meat platters and other dishes, pizza (which looks awful and is only ever ordered by Germans who come in and ignore the rest of the menu, infuriating me) and pide - long, hand-stretched slippers of dough filled with feta and spinach (my favorite) or ground meat.

To say that the feta-spinach pide is worth a trip across town no matter where you live would not be overstating it. This is seriously delicious stuff. The casing blisters and crackles in the heat of the oven and the crumbles of feta melt and yield. I sprinkle it liberally with the hot Turkish pepper placed on each table, but you could leave that off if you wanted something milder. It's my very favorite cheap lunch and it never fails to deliver.

In addition, if you're lucky, in the glass case holding the raw meats that they grill and serve with rice and salad, there are usually a few earthenware dishes of soft, stewed vegetables (eggplant, zucchini, potatoes, peppers). The stew is fabulous - clearly home-made and especially delicious when eaten with some of the bread, hot from the oven.

Özge Grill feels like my special little secret, but it's time to share.

Özge Grill
Nehringstrasse 4
14059 Berlin
Tel: (030) 326 03 665

Lon-Men's Noodle House

The first time I went to Lon-Men's Noodle House on Kantstrasse, I was in the throes of homesickness for New York. The cheap, hot, dingy, cramped little restaurant was the closest thing on Kantstrasse to what I was pining for and it was a relief to sit down at a slightly sticky table, get a mug of hot tea and eat from thick plastic bowls while watching the cooks bang thin metal pots and noodle strainers around in the open kitchen.

The restaurant specializes in Taiwanese noodle soups (which are fine, but nothing transcendent) and the fairly edited menu only has a few other things on the menu (pretty good fried dumplings, a bit of dim sum, a small selection of cold appetizers - of which the thinly sliced marinated beef stands out). There are also gua bao, those little wraps made famous by David Chang at Momofuku, and blogged about here. (I'm partial to the duck version.)

But the other day, I was surprised to see a man sitting next to me eating a dish full of steamed dumplings in chile sauce, something I knew wasn't on the menu. (I, er, know it practically by heart.) I leaned over to ask him and he told me that these were off-the-menu dumplings, to be ordered at the counter. Apparently there are usually a few daily specials tacked up there that I'd never noticed before. Go figure! Of course, I ordered a bowl for myself straight away. They were delicious - just right. Hot and chewy and salty and spicy.

Lon Men's Noodle House
Kantstrasse 33
10625 Berlin
Tel: (030) 315 19 678