Stadt, Land, Fluss

Martin Görlitz doesn’t like the word ‘bio’. True, it has a certain appeal in some ways, but even dedicated bio-product buyers have to admit the original idea has been somewhat obscured in a tsunami of over-priced products, frenzied officialdom and related terminologies like ‘organic’, ‘Demeter’ and others in the last few years.

“Bio is a word that the government stamps on products,” Mr. Görlitz explains, “and if your farm doesn’t have the right certification, you’re simply not bio, period.”

When planning his new restaurant, Mr. Görlitz specifically chose to work with some of his buddies in the food industry whom he knew would also refuse to bow to the bio apparatchiks and their ilk.

He envisioned a restaurant that paid tribute to the land: where every piece of meat, fish, or cheese that passed through its doors could be traced back to the source — and where, optimally, that source had been paid a visit by the chef mere days before its product ended up on your plate.

If you’ve seen the goat that has produced the milk to make your cheese, the reasoning goes, it won’t matter whether the farm that raised her has the word “bio” slapped on all its products.

The name for this kind of conscientious sourcing, as Mr. Görlitz pronounces proudly at the table of his new restaurant “Stadt, Land, Fluss,” (City, Country, River) is not ‘bio’, but ‘local’. It is, in a way, the next step in the organic food craze that has captivated well-to-do and well-intentioned Westerners everywhere, from health-conscious parents with young children to hipsters in Brooklyn, London, and California.

Movements like this have been criticized for their lack of empathy: how, for example, can a family living under the poverty line in America, or on Harz IV in Germany, expect to pay attention to where their food comes from when they barely have enough money to pay for it? Well, “Stadt, Land, Fluss,” which opened right smack in the middle of bio-haven Prenzlauer Berg two months ago, certainly isn’t as cheap as a Döner stand. But its costs are surprisingly reasonable in light of the work that goes into every dish, which is something to consider when making daily food choices in Germany.

“We’re only open Wednesday to Sunday,” Mr. Görlitz explains, “so Monday and Tuesday can be our sourcing days. I’m from Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, and our chef Andy is from Pfalz: most of our food and our inspiration come from our home regions.”

Gesturing to the small plates adorned with sliced meats (called “Imis,” or basically the South-German version of Tapas) he begins to wax poetic on Saumagen, a delectable form of cured pig stomach from his home region.

Stadt, Land, Fluss

Next to that are slivers of aromatic, slightly-vinegary Wildschwein (wild boar) sausage from Mecklenburg, and roasted Blutwurst (blood sausage) from Pfalz. Bio it isn’t, but it doesn’t need to be, as it all comes straight from the (carefully-vetted) farm, or in the case of the Saumagen, from the same butcher Görlitz’s family went to in his childhood.

The restaurant itself is a pleasant space – smart without being pretentious, featuring subtly rustic touches like candles and flowers on the tables and wooden kitchen cupboards on the walls (rather than stuffed reindeer heads, for example). As well as a spacious, informal main room there are also some private dining booths out back.

The menu is split into three sections for the three distinct ‘sections’ of the restaurant’s name, once again hinting at the importance of place in the restaurant’s concept. On the menu’s “Land” section, for instance, is a succulent side of braised beef so soft it merely requires a fork and an appetite, or a pairing of both goat’s and cow’s milk cheeses from the Karolinenhof farm just 60 km from Berlin. In a blogpost on their cheese search, the restaurant drew inspiration from Canadian food-writing couple James Mackinnon and Alisa Smith, who pledged to spend a year eating only what came from within a 100 mile radius of their Vancouver home.

This might not be such a new idea for a certain generation of Berliners, who might get their produce delivered weekly from a country farm close by, or might shop for veggies exclusively at one of the city’s many open-air markets. It is new and different, however, for a restaurant to take this concept and make it their focal point.

We’ve seen it with Little Otik, the Kreuzberg restaurant born out of an expat supper club, whose menu pages proudly proclaim its loyalty to local farmers, and now with the recently opened “Der Hahn ist Töt,” which advertises itself as classic French offering ländliche (country) menus. The difference with Stadt, Land, Fluss, however, is in the restaurant’s promotion of their concept as purely and proudly German.

Rather than simply consuming the food they have been presented with, diners really get the sense that they are being invited on a journey through the best of what Germany has to offer. There are, after all, thousands of acres of farmland just surrounding the German capital: it’s high time more Berlin restaurants took notice.

Stadt, Land, Fluss
Pappelallee 65
10437 Berlin
T: 030 40 57 47 36
Open: Wed- Fri from 6pm. Sat-Sun from 10am.

About The Author

Giulia Pines is a freelance writer and editor. She first moved from New York to Berlin in 2008, planning to stay for only a few months. Two and a half years later, it isn’t too difficult to guess what happened. When she isn’t writing, editing, and struggling with the Teutonic tongue, she accumulates new friends, stories, and recipes, all to be mixed into a heady brew packaged, labeled, and savored as “the life of an expat.” She hopes everyone will taste it at least once.

Photo by Paul Sullivan

Located on a quiet leafy back street between the extensive Volkspark Friedrichshain and the grandiloquent Karl-Marx-Allee, Paul & Paula is one of the longer serving veterans of Berlin’s kindercafe scene.

Named after the East German movie classic Die Legende von Paul und Paula, which was filmed partly in Friedrichshain in 1973, i t’s been providing delightful refuge for mums and dads and their kids for around four years.

The large west-facing windows let in floods of natural light in the afternoons, which splashes across the pale green walls, wooden floorboards and funky furnishings to lend the place a breezy, insouciant atmosphere.

The designer lampshades, wall lights and round-edged box shelves that hang down from the ceiling give Paul & Paula a thoroughly modern edge that doesn’t detract at all from the down to earth vibe.

Sofas and cushions line the two main walls; circular tables and an abundance of colourful toys plus a sweet table and chair area for kids fill the space between the door and the main counter area – which serves a great range of teas and coffees (including decaf and iced) for the parents, as well as bio drinks and juices for the kids. If you’re feeling peckish, order up a waffle, bagel or ciabatta, or try some of the tasty Eis dispensed from the venue’s newly installed refrigerator.

Photo by Paul Sullivan

The kids won’t get bored. There are (mostly wooden) toys everywhere, many located in the play area just in front of the counter but also laying around on shelves and tables. The emphasis on natural goods extends to the back area where you’ll find a small shop selling everything from creative toys and lovely books to ergonomic baby carriers and a packed rack of assorted clothing.

While it’s a great place to stop off for a coffee, snack and a natter, Paul & Paula’s also run courses like Pekip and pregnancy yoga, baby massage and music classes. These are popular with locals but open to all, including foreign visitors (though if you don’t speak any Deutsch you’ll need to double check on the English capabilities of the specific instructor).

If you haven’t already, we’d recommend a stroll to the afore-mentioned park, either before or after. It’s the oldest and second largest park in Berlin (52 hectares) and features lots of great sunbathing spots, historical monuments and memorials as well as Café Schoenbrunn, itself great for a morning coffee or late afternoon glass of wine/beer.

Paul und Paula
Richard-Sorge-Str. 25
10249 Berlin, Friedrichshain
Tel: 030 42 08 94 40
Open: Mon-Fri 9:30-18; Sun (Oct-Apr only:10-18)
Shop: Mon-Fri 9:30-18

About The Author

Paul Sullivan is a Berlin-based writer & travel photographer and the founder of Slow Travel Berlin. You can check out his personal website here and some of his photography galleries here.

Photo: Paul Sullivan

Blink and you’ll miss G Wie Goulasch, an itsy eaterie on Chamissoplatz, the quiet square that lies around the corner from bustling Bergmannstrasse.

Occupying a small house on the corner of Arndtstrasse, it’s run by Andre Schmermbeck, whose simple business idea was to create a place that serves up hearty, home-made goulash. You know – the kind you get at grandma’s house.

It feels a bit like you’re in grandma’s home too, since the place is only big enough for three tables and a few stools that stand at a copper-covered bar. Behind the bar you’ll find Andre, warming up his tasty meals in a kitchen so rudimentary that the main cooking and prep is done off-site in a rented catering space.

Old telephones and enamel pots and pans pass for decoration, intensifying the sensation of a bygone era. Flowers protrude from beer glasses and jugs on simple wooden tables, and the large windows give good views onto the Platz outside.

Families are welcome – there are no kid’s seats but a war-era motorbike chair can be stacked onto a normal chair to achieve elevation. The menu, in keeping with the restaurant, is small but reliable. Choose from goulash in Roggenkrustchen (bread bowl), or served with thick, perfectly cooked noodles (Walznudeln).

Photo: Paul Sullivan

Or there’s a classic “szegediner” (pork and sauerkraut) goulash, that comes with parsley potatoes. And vegetarians can visit too as Andre makes a seitan goulash and a “grandma’s vegetable soup,” which can be taken with or without Mettwurst.

All the dishes are made from either bio ingredients or food bought from trusted local suppliers and really do have that authentic home made kick. There’s usually a dessert on offer (E3.50), and Andre can whip up a mean coffee should you want one. Alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks are also on offer.

Of particular interest are the selection of Belgian beers (Duvel, Leffe Blonde, de Koninek) and the excellent – and strong – Trappist beers (Orval, Rochefort 10 and Le Trappe Dubble). The latter make a particularly suitable accompaniment to GWG’s tasty, robust fare.

(NB: If you visit on a Saturday morning you’ll find a small organic market on the other side of the square. And if you feel like stocking up on some wine, check out Paasburg’s Weinhandlung, also nearby).

G Wie Goulasch
Chamissoplatz 1
Berlin, Kreuzberg
Tel: 030 22 439 129
Open: 12-16, 18-22 daily (except Sundays)

About The Author

Paul Sullivan is a Berlin-based writer & travel photographer and the founder of Slow Travel Berlin. You can check out his personal website here and some of his photography galleries here.