Norwegen: das Roh und nicht das Gekocht

Munch's Hus is the self-proclaimed only Norwegian restaurant in Germany. I went for lunch with a friend and a baby that did not want to sit still and watch us eat Norwegian food. Although they offer a lunch deals (choice of meat or fish) for 6 or 7 Euros, the specials (a very basic-looking meat lasagna or fish with beets) didn't appeal on the day we were there. Instead, we shared two appetizers, the Rondane plate and the Sognefjord plate (named after a national park and the world's third largest fjord, respectively, in case you were wondering). The Rondane plate features a couple different sausages and hams made from elk and reindeer plus a few Norwegian cheeses, which are possibly the least cheese-like cheeses on the planet. The Sognefjord plate is, as you might expect, a seafood plate of various smoked and cured fish. Both were good, but in hindsight, we didn't really sample anything that required cooking. Still, the menu looks interesting (halibut in a blueberry-saffron sauce?) and I would definitely return to try something more elaborate. Munch's Hus Bülowstraße 66

Nigeria: mittendrin

Nigerian food (or African food for that matter) has yet to become trendy. Every now and then someone predicts that it is about to conquer our culinary shores, but so far it hasn't and I don't see it happening anytime soon. It's too bad because the dishes (admittedly a very tiny sample) we enjoyed at Ebe-Ano were really delicious. Of all the cuisines I've tried in the name of this little project here, I've been the most surprised (and mostly pleasantly so) by the African ones. Now that the Royal Aerostar Berlin is "closed until further notice," Ebe-Ano (much more centrally located, I might add) is at the top of my list of places I would definitely go back to and wish more people would check out. The menu is divided into rice and yam dishes - referring to which carb accompanies the dish. Yam is actually a dumpling of sorts made from white yam or manioc flour (along the lines of fufu), basically a big ball of gluey starch. From the yam side of the menu, we shared an okra stew, which was flavored with dried fish (a major seasoning in Nigerian cuisine, similar to the way ham flavors many vegetable or bean dishes in Spain) - not a combination western diners are likely familiar with, but it really works. Nigerians would have pulled off pieces of the dumpling and used it scoop up the stew (we were provided with a bowl of water for cleaning our fingers), but not being practiced and with nobody in sight to copy, we used the utensils also provided. Our second dish was recommended by the waitress and although it is vaguely described on the menu as something like vegetables and rice, it was our favorite. The vegetable seemed to be mostly spinach, though perhaps this changes based on season or availability, and was also flavored with dried fish - again delicious. For some of the dishes, you can choose to add a piece of meat or fish and here we added fish (hake maybe?), which was cooked to a tender, golden and crispy perfection. Like at Royal Aerostar, the food is served with a hot sauce - it has a great, fruity flavor, but is hot hot hot. Ordering a Nigerian Star lager is therefore essential and delicious. In addition to good, interesting food at very reasonable prices, Berlin's African restaurants, Ebe-Ano included, seem to function as community centers of a sort for expats from the respective countries. At Ebe-Ano a group of men was hanging outside on a warm evening yelling good-naturedly at neighborhood kids. Other places have had computers for skype calls home, electronic game machines, and televisions tuned to a national station. These things are in addition to a meal that tastes for most of the clientele, I presume/hope, like home. As Berlin's trendsetters have yet to declare Nigerian (or African) food cool, the cooks are cooking for their countryfolk. They'll likely warn you that the hot sauce is really spicy, but you'll get the same food as everyone else. You won't be able to order a mango lassi or a swimming pool cocktail and they probably haven't spent much money decorating, but you will get a tiny glimpse into another world. I've eaten in these trendy places in Mitte (not only there, but things seem particularly bad in certain Bezirks) - the food costs more and tastes like less and you generally get a glimpse of other people who look just like you. Ebe-Ano Pohlstrasse 52

Neuseeland: flach und weiss

Not much comes to mind when I think about New Zealand cuisine. Lamb? Kiwis? Wikipedia will tell you about Maori cuisine, a fusion of Polynesian ingredients and techniques with local New Zealand ingredients, but as native American cuisines are not regarded as typical American fare, Maori cuisine is not considered New Zealand's national cuisine. Instead, it is apparently similar to Australian cuisine - British (New Zealand was a colony) with lots of international influences, particularly Asian. (I'd be very interested to sample a traditional cookie, the Afghan biscuit, an iced chocolate cookie with a crunch from cornflakes. Why it's associated with Afghanistan, I cannot say.) In recent years, New Zealand became associated with coffee culture. I'm not sure how this came to be, but according to newzealand.com, the country "has more roasters per capita than anywhere in the world." Flat whites are to New Zealand (and Australia) what cappuccinos are to Italy. Until visiting Antipodes, a little Mitte-Prenzlauer Berg cafe run by a couple of Kiwis, I had yet to lay eyes or mouth on a flat white. A flat white is, for your information, "a less milky brew with textured rather than frothy milk." So, like a latte, but with a higher ratio of coffee to milk or a cappuccino with less foam. The flat white is apparently very tricky to make and will say that Antipodes makes good coffee, but I'd have to broaden my experience with flat whites before I can make an authoritative statement on this particular drink. I will add that their chai latte is awful - made from one of those syrups or powders and much, much too sweet. I respect their decision not to serve decaf coffee (the owner told me they weren't happy with the quality of the one they previously had). Even as a temporary decaf drinker, I think decaf is sort of silly. But by their own logic, why serve a sub-par chai? Still, this is mostly quibbling as they are all about coffee and their coffee is very good (I tasted my husband's). I also have good things to say about their sandwiches. In a city full of dreadful belgete broetchen, the "filled rolls" available at every bakery in the country - the bread tastes like cotton batting, the meat and cheese offerings are always the same - salami, some dreadful tomato-mozzarella aproximation...., and they are always smeared with Remouladensauce or remoulade sauce of the cheapest order, meaning it tastes like bad miracle whip. Anyway, the sandwiches at Antipodes are much more interesting; not ground-breaking perhaps, but certainly not what you'll find everywhere else in town. One of my companions had a toasted sandwich with salami and peppers that looked very tasty. It's not the cosiest cafe, but I'm tempted (especially once my coffee hiatus is over) to go back for brunch and try their eggs benedict. P.S. New Zealand (and Australia) are often referred to as the Antipodes as they are vaguely antipodal to Europe - the Antipodes Islands of New Zealand are almost antipodal to London. Antipodes Fehrbelliner Str. 5

Die Niederlande: etwas für Kenner

Is it fair to judge a nation or its cuisine by its fried snacks alone? Probably not, particularly given that I am not such a fan of fried things (oysters being my one serious exception), which is almost exclusively what you can get at De Molen. De Molen is a typical Dutch snack bar, run by a German who grew up in Holland. I went to De Molen with a Dutch friend, who verified its authenticity and was plenty excited about the range of fried treats on offer. I deferred to the native and let her do the ordering. She selected a Kaaassouffle and a Fleischkroket on a roll with mustard. The Kaassouffle wasn't bad, basically a crispy-melty cheesey thing. The cheese is supposedly Gouda and actually had some bite. The Fleischkroket on the other hand ... highly suspect. It was fried something. I understand there was supposed to be some kind of meat ragout in the middle, but it was mostly just smooshy and tasted oddly of curry. The cotton-textured hotdog bun and French's-style mustard did not help matters. That said, my Dutch friend was a happy camper and the US certainly has its share of fried nonsense, so while I would probably have been happier with a bit of herring or a bowl of pea soup (adorably called Snert in Dutch),I will try not to judge. De Molen Neue Bahnhofstr. 26a

Nur ein Hop, ein Hopserlauf und ein Sprung nach Nepal

For a while every cuisine I sampled featured cevapcici. The kebabs resurfaced recently in Macedonia, but now we are on a different theme - in Mongolia they are buuz and in Nepal, momos (expect them to resurface also as momos in Tibet). According to Wikipedia, momos (or whatever you prefer to call your steamed dumplings) were introduced from Han China (although I'm always skeptical about claims of "inventing" something as basic as a flour and water dough wrapped around ground/minced meat and steamed) and you can also find them in Bhutan, as well as, the Himalayan bits of India. Momos can be fried or steamed and the filling varies a bit - mildly spiced ground lamb or beef is common, but there are also vegetable, potato, and cheese fillings depending on where you are. It's hard to say whether Cafe Tsetseg or Nepal Haus has better buuz/momos. Both restaurants are making them from scratch, so it's hard to go to wrong. Cafe Tsetseg's beef buuz are bigger and juicer (and cheaper), but Nepal Haus offers three different fillings - lamb, spinach, or vegetable (mostly potato) and the lamb, while also quite plain, was a seasoned a bit more precisely. Nepal Haus' momos come with a peanuts sauce (which I didn't care for, but my friend found to be a good compliment to the spinach momos) and a delicious tomato chutney that beat Tsetseg's bottle of sriracha hands down. Of course, if you love starch, Tsetseg serves potato salad with their buuz. In a perfect world, we would have Cafe Tsetseg's big doughy buuz with Nepal Haus' lamb filling and tomato chutney, but either place can easily handle your dumpling craving. Nepal is a more diverse country than Mongolia, in terms of ethnic groups represented, as well as, climate and terrain and this is reflected in the cuisine and on the menu at Nepal Haus (although some of the dishes go too far - I don't think there is a lot of shrimp curry to be found in Nepal). In addition to an order of momos, we also sampled a bean soup with Nepalese herbs and an okra curry. The soup wasn't great - the broth tasted like canned fried onions and there weren't many herbs - mostly green onions and maybe cilantro ... the beans were straight out of a can. I'm not sure what about it was Nepalese at all. The daal, was much better - not life-changing, but a good homemade bowl of soup. The okra curry, while not quite remarkable, was enjoyable, especially in a city where okra is hard to find. All-in-all, Nepal Haus is a decent, but not an earth-shatteringly special restaurant. I can't recommend you trek across town for dinner there, but if you're in the area or have a hankering for dumplings, the lamb momos are worth an order (the spinach are pretty tasty too). Nepal Haus Gneisenaustraße 4

Marokko: Mitte ist beschissen

I know there are a few exceptions to this statement, but dinner at Kasbah last night was yet another reminder that Mitte is full of trendy looking restaurants with terrible (blah at best) food. Mitte is home to lots of expats and yuppie Germans - for the most part, educated people who are well-traveled. Why aren't these people shunning places like Hashi and Kasbah for their dumbed down flavors and demanding food that tastes like it did when they were backpacking through Asia or wherever. The Germans I met on the Camino de Santiago who were carrying crackers and other supplies purchased at home and the people (as in more than one couple) I know in Berlin who stock up at Lidl/Aldi before driving to a rented summer cottage provide the answer, but somehow I can never quite accept this. Anyway, as you can tell by now, Kasbah was no good at all. The place is nicely decorated without being over the top, most of the music they played (from classic Moroccan to French-language rap) was fitting, and the service was friendly if not five-star...but it comes down to the food and that is seriously lacking. In taste. In quantity. In (as much as I hate this word) authenticity. We shared a kefta (think meatball) tagine in spiced tomato sauce with green olives and vegetable couscous. The tagine was very mildly spiced and over-salted, the olives were of very poor quality and few in number, and the portion size (eight small meatballs in just a little bit of sauce) was really not acceptable considering the price (12.50 Euros). If it had been delicious or enough to feed an average adult, the price might have been justified, but in this case, neither was true. Any restaurant is going to have a dud, but the vegetable couscous was even worse. The menu describes the vegetables as "marinated," which they were absolutely not. This was a smallish serving of couscous with 8 or 10 pieces of cooked vegetables for 11 Euros. The sauce on the side was an insipid broth that tasted mostly of bouillon cube and the harissa was just ok (good harissa is more than spicy, it's fruity and adds real character to food). I will say that the flatbread served at Kasbah is pretty good and although I didn't sample it, they do offer Moroccan wine. Good bread and regional wine do not make up for flavorless food served in tiny portions for too much money. Kasbah Gipsstrasse 2

Von Mauritius (Es lebt!) bis die Mongolei (ohne Pferdefleische (so weit ich weiss))

Mauritian cuisine reflects its colonial and immigration history, offering an interesting mix of native African, French, Chinese, and Indian cuisines. It would have been really exciting to discover an actual Mauritian restaurant in Berlin. Alas, I was forced to make do with ice cream. Sadly, I didn't manage to find out why the Eiscafe-Mauritius is so named. Actually, a visit to its website and an unanswered phone call led me to conclude that it was no longer in existence (turns out it was, in fact, closed for a spell). It was pure coincidence that we stumbled upon it heading to our Mongolian dinner. Normally, I wouldn't eat ice cream as an appetizer, but seeing as Theodor-Heuss-Platz is not on my regular circuit, it was now or never. We decided to share one scoop of the most Mauritius-esque flavor on offer (at the end of a sunny, but chilly March day, they only had a handful of flavors): mango. All the ice cream at Mauritius is homemade and according to internet sources, they offer some interesting flavors, such as rosewater and white coffee. Based on the half scoop I sampled, I deem the ice cream pretty good. I wouldn't go across town for it, but if I lived nearby or happened to be at Theodor-Heuss-Platz on a warm day, I would be more than willing to try more flavors. On this day, however, it was on to Cafe Tsetseg for a Mongolian dinner. Cafe Tsetseg seems to be the only Mongolian restaurant in Berlin, though there are several spots offering Mongolian barbecue (a meat and vegetable stir-fry cooked on a large griddle. Don't be fooled -- there aren't all that many actual facts behind the myth that the dish was the traditional fare of Mongol warriors who sliced meat with their swords and used their helmets as a griddle. It's unclear just why this dish was ever linked to Mongolia, but it was invented (if stir-frying meat and vegetables can be considered an invention) in Taiwan in the 1970s. Ironically, the first American restaurant to open in Mongolia was BD's Mongolian Grill. You won't find any Mongolian barbecue at Cafe Tsetseg. When we arrived, they quickly switched the television from a German spaghetti Western to a dvd of Mongolian wildlife and brought us mugs of salted milk tea (a beverage which tastes first salty, then of milk, and faintly of tea). While I haven't taken to making my own salty milk tea at home, it was a very good sign that they aren't dumbing down the cuisine for the locals, and for a brief period it actually hit the spot. The small menu offers a couple types of dumplings, noodles, and soups, as well as, potato salad. This is not the place to go when you are looking to load up on vegetables. We ended up with a plate of buuz, which was served with potato salad and a beef dumpling soup. Buuz are steamed dumplings with a meat filling - to me they were indistinguishable from Tibetan and Nepalese momo. The potato salad (mayonnaise-based with bits of carrots, ham, and peas) was very Russian - in fact, I've eaten the same thing in Spain as ensalada rusa and in the US at Russian establishments in Coney Island. The soup had a nice broth and the dumplings (essentially mini buuz) were accompanied by a good amount of carrot and onion, as well as, slices of briskety meat. This isn't food that will wow you with its depth of flavor and it isn't likely to introduce you to any new tastes, but everything was clearly homemade and everything was good (not to mention cheap - we spent 12 Euros on dinner for two, 13 if you count our ice cream prelude). Eiscafe-Mauritius Theodor-Heuss-Platz 2 Cafe Tsetseg Behaimstraße 12 bus 15:15