Where flowers, cakes and poetry mingle harmoniously…
Berliners love their bounteous breakfasts as much as their afternoon Kaffee und Kuchen—and any establishment that can offer both is justly venerated. So it is with Anna Blume, a Prenzlauer Berg institution that manages to combine a florist, bakery and cafe with impressive fluidity.
Interior designer Thomas Seiffert has made good use of the fact the venue was named after a 1919 Kurt Schwitters poem: lines from the surrealist masterpiece spiral elegantly outwards from a reproduction of an Alphonse Mucha mural – a summer-clad Art-Nouveau woman (Lady Dada?) sniffing coquettishly at a flower – and unfurl along the walls behind the counter.
The conceptual borders between flower shop and café blur even further the more time you spend here. Delicate odours waft through the café when the internal door is opened; petals and other flower parts turn up in the beverages and food (think rose-infused crepes, teas, home-made ice cream); gorgeous bouquets and arrangements punctuate the tasteful interior.
A pervasive Art Deco theme continues through the curving red leather banquets, the solid, marble-topped tables and the dark, cosy salon at the rear, all red drapes and candlelight even during the day. Oddly the place only opened in 2005—it feels like it’s been here forever.
You can also sit outside on the generous patio (blankets and heat lamps during winter) and watch the Prenzlauer Bergers go about their business. If that gets boring, grab a free book from the tree library—a community bookstore cunningly inserted into a nearby tree trunk.
Anna Blume’s menu stretches to hearty lunches and vigorous dinner courses made from seasonal ingredients—but it’s as a breakfast and cake place that it reigns supreme. For Frühstück there’s the usual run of muesli, eggs, crepes… but the real highlight are the set breakfasts.
Named after flowers and priced at around eight Euros, they’re beautifully presented and generously proportioned. Fish fans will love the Anemone (salmon, scrambled eggs, shrimps); the Med-style Oleander features salami, provolone, oyster mushrooms and marinated zucchini; the Alpenrose has Tyrolean ham and Schweinelende (pork loin).
If there are two or more in your group, plump for a platter (17.50 Euros for two / 24.50 Euros for four): a vibrant medley of hams, eggs, fruits and fish superbly arranged on a tiered silver tray. Such offerings are inevitably coveted, especially at weekends. Arriving between nine and ten am is a good idea. Any later and you may be left languishing by the door until a table comes free.
With this in mind, try to find a seat facing away from the door unless you want half a dozen famished eyeballs boring enviously into your Latte Macchiato.
If you’re a late riser—don’t worry. Pop by later in the afternoon and succumb to the café’s cake selection—a glittering catwalk of comely crumbles, slick cheesecakes and baroque gateaux that pout and wink from behind a long glass vitrine.
Once you’re done with your treat, stroll past the neighbouring florist and look in the window of the Anna Blume bakery next door. If you’re lucky you’ll witness the white-coated staff working their magic with flour, cream and light industrial machinery.
Note: if Anna Blume is full, there are many alternatives close by. We can recommend their sister café SowohlAlsAuch right across the road (No. 88), or the spacious, lovely Elbspeicher along Sredzkistrasse (No. 41).
For more information, check the café’s website.