Secret Supper Club

Berlin is a city of subcultures: art house squats, anarchist bars, locationless dance nights, and secret supper clubs. For my first foray into underground dining in Berlin, I had a guide. My new Australian food buddy Rohan (now with new Sydney food blog) sent me the menu the week of:

* ~ *
An Apéritif
Pickled winter vegetables, parmaschinken, and little lettuces
Ricotta gnudi with pumpkin caponata
Lamb and root vegetable stew with farro
Apple cobbler with ginger ice cream
* ~ *

"Wait! How do I get there? There's no address!"
"No, there isn't."
"How do people find out about it then?"
Rohan cocked his head and gave me a sly smile.
"You just do!"

We met beforehand at Rohan's favourite gourmet food shop in Prenzlauerberg to choose wine for the evening. There would be wine there as well, but being lushes on a budget, we decided to come prepared. We chose three bottles for the four of us, the highlight being a German wine from a small winery that has totally taken my heart: Holger Koch, a delicate Pinot Noir (Spätburgunder in German) from 2007. This was not like any Pinot Noir I have ever had. Retaining all the complexity of this difficult grape, it was so light as to almost resemble a Rosé in colour and weight. For a wine industry whose strength is floral and fruity Rieslings, this red was a beautiful showcase of the power a light wine can have in impacting the palate. I took home an extra bottle for Christmas on a hunch (and was duly rewarded with an approving nod from Dad over Turkey dinner).

Rohan led us to an apartment building in Friedrichshain and we followed the buzzer directions to the third floor. We were greeted by a friendly American, who was the host and server for the night. He explained to us after the dinner that he was a DJ originally from NY who had come to Berlin for the opportunity to play 80's disco to an appreciative crowd(!). Gotta love Europe for that. His partner was the chef, also a New Yorker. Having found a day job in a local bakery, he missed the pleasure of cooking full meals for guests and the idea for the supper club was born.

The living room turned dining hall was cosy and comforting, as though we had been invited to a special event in a friend's home, perhaps an engagement announcement or the celebration of a birth. The room was set up with 4 tables and about 18 guests. Our party of 4 was seated with two other expats - our table consisted of 2 Australians, 1 Swede, a Belgian/German, a Russian/American, and a Chinese/Canadian. Naturally, the conversation turned to the question, "Where do you come from?" and how complex that question is becoming in a world where the old idea of national identity shows itself to be a transitioning chameleon, a creature uncertain of where to belong but sure of the list of places it wants to go. Introductions are no longer the simple fare they were designed to be. At least not in Berlin, where you are more likely to meet a Turk, Korean or South African than a native Berliner.

The sparkling wine aperitif served with a twist of lemon started us off lightly and delicately. Our friend, Ceci, ordered the most delicious German beer for a more substantial aperitif - Riedenburger historisches Emmer Bier. I have spent the last two months searching every specialty shop, liquor store and late night corner store for this taste of heaven and come up empty handed. (HELP!) The beer hails from a small organic and artisanal brewery in the South of Germany. It belongs to a lost tradition of beer brewing originating before barley made all other grains in the brewing industry obsolete. Brewed with emmer (farro wheat), einkorn (a traditional German wheat) and spelt, it is rich without being heavy, complex without being overwhelming. Nourishing and round, and still light enough to not be a meal on its own. You can find an excellent review of this beer here. Riedenburger is only an hour from Nuremberg... perhaps a roadtrip for lebkuchen and Emmer bier is in my future.



The starter was a refreshing take on the seasonal and local, pairing parmaschinken (a German take on prosciutto) with German folk fare of pickled winter vegetables and brussel sprouts, giving some of the most underrated members of the vegetable kingdom a class and elegance truly deserving of them.



The entree was in my opinion, the star of the meal. The pairing of creamy ricotta dumplings with spiced and roasted pumpkin winter comfort was pure genius. I made a mental note for future mid-winter dinner parties.

The main was a satisfying but unremarkable lamb stew that allowed the conversation to take the main focus, turning animatedly to Jordana's 10 day silent meditation retreat, Buddhism, Daoism, and well, Heidegger. (what else am I good for in the middle of thesis writing? ;)



The apple cobbler was elegantly cupped and had a delectable puff pastry crust. The fresh ginger ice cream gave a beautiful lift. More European than American in its weight in the mouth, this dessert was a hit for me.

At 25 Euro a seat, this alternative to The Shy Chef was a treat.


Palisaden Supper Club, Friedrichshain, Berlin.