Berlin on a Platter

Gegessen Wird Immer

Several months ago, during my hunt for good grocery delivery services, I stumbled across the Berlin startup, Gegessen wird immer. It specializes in delivering both organic and artisanal grocery products, delivering local fruit and vegetables, fresh meat, an amazing selection of wine and beer (not to mention spirits), as well as bread from Kreuzberg's Soluna bakery and Quark and other dairy products from the Hemme dairy. Within each category, their offerings are tightly edited and very appealing. It's clear that people with a real interest in food and cooking are running the show, with a really good nose for quality.

Beyond their selection of organic produce, which is fine and covers most of the bases, there's a nice variety of Wurst and cheese from Germany, Austria and Italy. They sell Sawade chocolate, which endears them to me forever, because Sawade has always been my family's chocolatier, so to speak, and we feel strongly about supporting the hometown team. In fact, Gegessen wird immer sells lots of local brands, like Five Elephant coffee, tea from the Manuteefaktur, handmade bean-to-bar chocolate from Delicacao, and jams, chutneys and others spreads from Kebe Living, among many others. It's lovely to see so many Berlin brands represented here, and especially so because we don't live in Kreuzberg, Neukölln or Mitte, where it might be easier to access some of these goods. But Gegessen wird immer, although based in Berlin, has also sourced products from other artisans throughout Germany. There's honey and seed müsli from Hamburg, marmelades and jams from Schleswig-Holstein, and sauces from Brandenburg.

But beyond all of that, one of my favorite things about the service is their efficiency. They deliver in the evening, when you're almost guaranteed to be home, and if you place your order before noon, they deliver that same day. SAME DAY DELIVERY. Ding ding ding! That alone pretty much puts them at number 1 in my book. If you have a small order, the packaging is really discreet and conscientious - it's all brown kraft paper, which is easily recycled or reused, and it's sensibly used. (Unlike those other delivery services that literally bag four products into a plastic bag, leaving you with a mountain of trash each time you place an order - insert chagrined emoji face.) A larger order, or one that requires refrigeration, is delivered in a DHL box that the courier takes with him right away, so you have nothing cumbersome left to deal with.

I so appreciate the attention to detail, and the clear delight that the company takes in providing such well-curated (sorry, but it is) products sourced from real people and not nameless, faceless companies. Their gift boxes are both amusing and clever, and they also do office deliveries. In short, I'm a fan. A big fan.

Christmas Countdown: Ufuud and Just Spices

This has been an incredibly busy autumn. The relative indolence of August feels like ages ago, coming back from vacation and feeling the luxury of time stretching ahead of me. In a matter of days, we were off to the races and then the months flashed by in a moment. Now December is almost upon us and I'm barely coming up for air. All good things, of course, but with the specter of Christmas staring back at me balefully, I'm already dreading the mad rush of the next few weeks.

Like many of you, I guess, I plan on relying on the internet to help me find gifts in time. I'm thrilled to report that I have two new sources for delicious and useful presents (the best combo, wouldn't you say?).

The first is Just Spices, a new German spice company that sells a fantastic selection of pure spices and herbs and other flavorings, as well as spice mixes, and a gorgeous assortment of equipment. (Tell me this: have you ever seen such a beautiful Gewürzmühle?) I was particularly thrilled to see that they sell things like celery seed, sumac, and curry leaves, which aren't always easy to find here. The packaging is stellar (and 100% recyclable), but I'm happy to say the products are too - high-quality, fragrant, thoughtfully combined. Their sets would make for a pretty great gift for the cook or baker in your life, not to mention things like this and the aforementioned spice grinder (hint hint, anyone who loves me!)

The second is the oddly named Ufuud, which specializes in high-quality Italian products sourced from all over the country. From salumi and cheeses to excellent olive oils, bronze-extruded pasta, chocolate from Modica in Sicily, preserved tomatoes and vegetables, handmade torrone and even ground buckwheat and corn for pasta and polenta, it's a food lover's dream.

I'm particularly gaga for things like the anchovy colatura from Menaica, the oregano from Pantelleria, these half-dried cherry tomatoes, sun-dried cherries in syrup, stoneground cornmeal and buckwheat for polenta and pancakes, and cinnamon-flavored chocolate from Bonajuto in Modica, Sicily. It's hard to think of someone who wouldn't be thrilled to get a little Ufuud care package at Christmastime.

Just Spices

Ufuud

*Both companies provided me with samples of their products, but the decision to write about them is mine alone, as is my enthusiasm!*

A Gift Guide for Berlin and a Giveaway

When I did my holiday gift guide over at TWC, I realized it was only fair to do a Berlin-specific gift guide for those of you who are local or on the hunt for delicious and pretty discoveries right here in town. Without further ado, here it is:

1. Sironi, a Milanese baker plying his goods in Kreuzberg's Markthalle Neun, makes a lovely panettone (€11), all wrapped up in cellphone and tied with a bow, that makes for a delicious gift. My mother, a panettone devotee, ate half of hers in about as many days and couldn't stop raving.

2. Paper & Tea, the loveliest tea store I've ever been to, already got a mention in my other gift guide, but I can't help but mention it again. Their teas are pretty great and the tea cups and pots sourced from all over Asia are astonishingly beautiful. We're hoping to take one of their tea seminars in the new year. Lately, I've been drinking their Harijan classic chai daily, with a splash of milk and a spoonful of honey. I highly recommend it - it's nicely balanced, with just the right amounts of warming spices.

3. If you've never been to the Hamann-Haus on the Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf border, it's worth a visit. While the factory is strictly off-limits to visitors, the shop is stocked with every single chocolate item Hamann makes. I'm obsessed with their chocolate St. Nikolauses, which I first spied at Andreas Murkudis. They are gothically stern, simple and mesmerizing and their size packs an amazing punch. They come in both dark and milk chocolate and in a whole variety of sizes. But my advice? Go big (see photo above).

4. Another place to visit, if you haven't already been, is the tiny Wald shop at the very western end of Pestalozzistrasse in Charlottenburg (stop in at Café Manstein afterwards for a reviving cup of tea). Wald, which has devoted fans all over the world, specializes in Königsberger Marzipan. Their painstakingly made and delicious marzipan confections come in little wooden boxes or simple cellphone bags and would please any of your sweet-toothed loves who prize artisanal craftsmanship and supporting a family business.

5. Any object from Hedwig Bollhagen, the iconic Bauhaus-influenced potter from Marwitz in Brandenburg, makes for a pretty fantastic gift - from stark black-and-white vases to the cozier striped tea sets or nesting bowls. You can buy Bollhagen ceramics at KaDeWe these days, but instead I suggest you make a little pilgrimage to the wonderful Bollhagen shop on Wilmersdorfer Strasse, which also sells vintage originals made by the woman herself.

6. Strictly speaking, Monkey 47's spirits aren't made in Berlin, but in the Black Forest. But let's stretch the rules a little here. Their gin, made with 47 botanical extracts, is too good to pass by. You can buy it in various other stores in Berlin, but if you go to Andreas Murkudis, you'll also get to ogle about a hundred other things to covet as well (Nymphenburg vases! Céline bags! This place is a wonderland for high rollers and a pretty museum for the rest of us, sigh.)

7. I know I already mentioned marzipan and chocolate, but I can't make a gift guide without also including Sawade's Marzipanbrot, which is the very best the city (the world?) has to offer. It comes in different sizes (the bigger, the better, in my opinion - their marzipan is really the best I've ever tasted) and is just so iconic. I've always been amazed that Sawade isn't better known outside of Berlin or Germany. But maybe it's best that it stays our little secret. They also make lovely chocolate Christmas ornaments, to be purchased in their three bricks-and-mortar stores or Karstadt.

8. While I love my little corner of Berlin, I would give at least one pinky finger to live closer to the wonderful food emporium that is Goldhahn & Sampson. Head there for any number of wondrous gifts: spectacular olive oils, vinegars, chocolates, great cookbooks, or the gift certificate to a cooking class (I want to attend at least - Mar y Seoul, anyone?). I'm so happy to have a place like G&S in our lovely city and only wish they could open an outpost for those of us in the west.

9. And finally, Paul Sullivan and his crew at Slow Travel Berlin have just published their guide to Berlin, 100 Favourite Places. With handdrawn maps and a thoughtful approach to showcasing all this city has to offer, this is a great gift for any Berlin lover, new or old. And today, Slow Travel Berlin is generous enough to give away one e-book to a Berlin on a Platter reader. So tell me, dear readers, what is on your wish list from Berlin this year? Leave me a comment below and I'll choose a winner at random tomorrow.

UPDATE: Wendy (ww1614) is the winner! Thanks for participating; the giveaway is now closed.

Happy holidays!

Rice Up Onigiri

Have you seen these little triangular onigiri at your local Bio Company or for sale at the main sales point, a little kiosk in the Schönleinstrasse U-Bahn station (down on the tracks)?

I confess that I knew about them for a while before ever wanting to try them. I thought the packaging looked a little odd and that they were too German-looking to be any good. Turns out the joke was on me. I bought one in a fit of desperation the other day - your typical toddler nightmare: we were leaving Bio Company, Hugo was having a meltdown as we were passing the bakery display, but he'd already consumed his weight in bread that day and I didn't want to give him another Rosinenbrötchen, when right there next to all that good bread was a neat little row of onigiri stuffed with kimchi. I bought one for Hugo and then, after Hugo got a few bites of rice and quieted down, I proceeded to demolish it all myself. It was SO good.

The design of the onigiri is ingenious. There are three parts to the thin plastic shell - each one insulates the seaweed perfectly so that it stays crisp and dry until you buy the onigiri and open the packaging. The rice has just the right texture and seasoning and most of the fillings are spot-on. I love the crackle of the seaweed when I bite into the onigiri and the soft sinking into the rice below. The Rice Up's I've tried so far are the kimchi, the shiitake and pumpkin and the salmon with spicy plum (alert: it's not that spicy). I stick to only getting the ones that have "Asian" fillings, because those make the most sense in the rambling country road between my brain and my taste buds. (I can't fathom the ratatouille & goat cheese filling.)

Rice Up's onigiri are all-organic and seasonal and made fresh every day. If they can't get a particular ingredient one day, then they don't make that filling. Each one costs somewhere between 2,50 and 2,80, which is a little steep for what is ostensibly a snack, but they are very filling, so delicious and I think the care taken with the whole assembly explains the price.

Bonus: If you're on the run, two of these would probably do you for lunch.

Double bonus! Kids like them.

Thumbs up, Rice Up!

Yogi Tea Schoko Chai

Tap tap, hello? Is anyone there? I'm feeling more than a little sheepish about how much time has gone by since I last posted. Let's put the blame squarely at my son's feet - born last June - and on the publication of my book - out last September. Forgive me, reader! With patience, I will try to get back here with some regularity.

Let's start with my new favorite tea. My brother-in-law bought it for me for Christmas and it is sort of marvelous.

First of all, it's loose tea, not bagged, otherwise I probably would have gotten rid of it without looking at it twice. Second of all, it's caffeine-free. And third of all, and probably most importantly, it has little cocoa nibs in it. Yes, indeedy.

To brew it, you put a few spoonfuls of the spicy mix in a pot of boiling water and let it simmer for 15 minutes. It looks rather unpromising at first, but as the minutes tick by, the water starts to go a deep reddish-brown color and a wonderful aroma fills the air. Strain the tea into a tea cup and top off with a splash of milk and a little bit of honey (I find chai always needs some sweetener, though I take all my other tea without sugar).

What you've got, then, is a richly flavored, warming chai tea with a subtly chocolate bottom note. It's really delicious and very satisfying, especially if you're trying to kick an afternoon cookie-and-hot-chocolate habit. Ahem.

Central and Latin American Delights at Aqui España

The other day, on the way to lunch, I stopped in at Aqui España on Kantstraße, just because I was feeling curious. Imagine my delight at finding all sorts of Central and Latin American treats therein, like Mexican goat's milk cajeta, canned tomatillos, tamale wrappers, guava paste, dried salt cod, dried pasilla, guajillo, ancho, arbol and chipotle chiles, dulce de leche in a Russian doll's variety of jar sizes, several different countries' worth of masa and achiote in both ground and pellet form. (There is also a large selection of Spanish and Portuguese goods, from olive oils to cured meats, wines to dry goods.)

I left with a can of tomatillos (I'd only ever eaten them fresh, but some casual Googling assured me that canned tomatillos are a good thing, much like canned tomatoes) and a jar of hearts of palm, but I can't wait to go back for all the ingredients for the Mexican feast I plan to cook soon.

Aqui España
Kantstraße 34
10625 Berlin
(030) 312 3315

Americana at Aldi

Aldi has a special "US" section going on right now, featuring products from Trader Joe's (not the dried fruit and nuts from Trader Joe's that Aldi carries all year round) emblazoned with an American flag and that are, as usual when discussing the "American" section in a German grocery store, a sort of hilarious take on how Germans see the American diet.

Hot dog buns, charcoal and pickle slices actually make sense. It's summer, after all, even if our Berlin July was much too rainy for grilling outdoors. Then there's cranberry sauce in a jar, which I thought about buying and saving for Thanksgiving, just for the kitsch factor, and fruit syrups for pancakes in maple syrup bottles, which just made me sad. Who the heck is putting that crap on pancakes?

I snagged the pickles, because German pickles continue to annoy me with their sweetness and lack of vim and vinegar, and also because I have been having a crazy hankering for cheeseburgers lately that is not going to let up until I just go ahead and eat one already, and since sandwich pickles, to me, are intimately linked with burgers, buying the pickles was almost like buying a cheeseburger.

(Let's not try to understand my thought process today, shall we? I'm missing my appendix.)

Wasabi Macadamia Nuts

I cannot take any credit at all for this discovery, it was my friend Anna who introduced me to these fantastic things. I don't even like macadamia nuts, for Pete's sake. Or at least I didn't until Seeberger took a bunch of them and coated them in wasabi dust.

Holy Moses, people, these are good. They're like the richer, creamier version of wasabi peas, a little less crunchy but with no less of a spicy bite. Buy them now, thank me later (or curse me, depending on how addicted you get).

Brockensplitter

There I was last week at Rewe, zoning out in the candy aisle while Max tried to get some checkout girl to answer his question about the pots he's become obsessed with when my eyes caught a row of assorted candy all labeled with a sign that said "Aus unserer Region". Well, that's it, I thought. The locavore movement has finally jumped the shark.

But then I looked a little more carefully at the candy selection and saw, between Schokolinsen and Pralinen, a little rectangular package with a sweet, retro design that looked like it hadn't changed in half a century and that magical word that just gets me every time: krokant. And in this case, Haselnusskrokant, hazelnut-studded toffee enrobed in bittersweet chocolate.

Argenta, Max explained to me, was one of those rare East German companies that didn't go out of business after the fall of the Wall. (Rotkäppchen Sekt is another.) I wonder if I'll offend anyone by saying that East Germany's chocolate doesn't have much a reputation in this household (Max's mother grew up eating it and loathes it to this day), but I couldn't help myself, I had to try the Brockensplitter. I mean, could you have just passed on by?

I'm very happy to report that Brockensplitter are indeed tasty little things. In fact, they're a little too easy to crunch away at. I try to limit myself to three at a time. And, incidentally, the chocolate is just fine. It's no Sawade or Hamann, don't get me wrong. But for a thrifty, pint-size gift to bring as a fun memento from Berlin, Brockensplitter are pretty great.

FrischeParadies, or, The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread

Last weekend, I helped my mother buy the supplies for a dinner party she was having. We went to Karl-August-Platz for vegetables, and planned to go to Karstadt to buy the fish. But then we ran into a friend of hers standing in line for fresh pasta and he said, "Why aren't you buying the fish at Lindenbergs?" To which she answered, "Oh! Lindenbergs! I forgot about that place." (Or something. I hate writing dialogue.) Anyway, we got in the car and drove to a little, nondescript street behind Otto Suhr Allee to find the most awesome grocery store in all of Berlin, if you may permit me a little bit of hyperbole.

First of all, it's not called Lindenbergs anymore (that's what it used to be called, back in the 1970's, when my folks first moved here). It's now called FrischeParadies. It doubles as a whole-sale market for a lot of Berlin restaurants: the cashiers will ask you if you're there "geschäftlich" or "privat", but there's no membership or fee.

Second of all, keep your eyes peeled when you drive into the Morsestraße, because you could blink and miss it. It's in a nondescript hall-looking type of thing in the back of a lot filled with construction equipment (apparently, they're expanding).

Third of all, how on earth could my mother have forgotten about this place?

Fourth of all, GO NOW. (Well, not now. It's closed on Sundays.)

Because where else are you going to find entire wheels of Brie de Meaux and Fourme d'Ambert alongside industrial-sized packages of Spätzle and Schupfnudeln? Ail rose de Bretagne next to loose lemongrass stalks and Thai chilis? Brick dough for Moroccan b'stilla and Mexican flour tortillas? Boiron fruit purées and Iranian pistachios? Fresh goat meat? Marinated boquerones? Moutarde violette? Tomato vinegar?

In truth, it's almost overwhelming. I dare you to walk the aisles without visions of dinner parties or even dreams of opening your own restaurant dancing in your head. There's another location in Prenzlauer Berg that looks a lot ritzier. But I love the scruffiness of the Charlottenburg one.


Frischeparadies
Morsestraße 2
10587 Berlin
(030) 390 81 523