Alles klar in Berlin

All my life in the last week has consisted of wandering, wonderment, loneliness, self assuredness, surprise, intrigue, alienation, miscommunication, my heartbeat.


Becoming familiar with new territory comes faster to some than others, but I've wasted no time trying to the crux of Berlin. On Sunday I went to one the city's largest (if not THE largest) fleamarket in Mauerpark, north Berlin. It was a huge breath of fresh air after experiencing the absolute commodification of anything vaguely antique or second hand in London. Generally, these flea markets have far less mediation & sorting from their stand holders than in many places, which means there are bargains for those who are looking with the right set of eyes!


I spent the day processing all of the visual input, enjoying people watching & searching for my own little trinkets to take home. Of course this post wouldn't be going anywhere without me consuming some form of food, and I have to say I had one of the best burgers of my life (and perhaps this was aided by the fact that it was only €3.50) made by Sun Day burgers.
Their burgers are completely vegan, and packed full of healthy ingredients & mouth watering flavours. It's basically a sunflower seed bun filled with fried tofu marinated in ginger & soy sauce, lettuce, capsicum, tomato, beetroot, fried onions, fresh coriander, alfalfa sprouts & sauced up on chipotle chilli chutney (or there is the option of peanut sauce or mango chutney as well).

I asked the the lovely staff if I could take a photo for my food blog, I sensed a little disappointment when the lady serving asked if I was a vegan and I said no, but she kindly said I could have a job as soon as I become vegetarian. I was flattered, & even though I am not a huge meat eater  (ignore the last post) & do enjoy vegetarian food a lot, I don't think I would ever want to be totally vegetarian, I just believe in meat in moderation.

The bad news is that means I will never be employed by Sun Day Burger, but the good news is that they also have a shop in Kreuzberg at EisenBahn Strasse 42/43, Kreuzberg (at Gorlitzer Bahnhof), so I can eat there till my heart is content.

The Sun Day burger

Sun Day Burger stand with suspicious customer

Happy burger makers, no dead animals here!



Ohh, lots of dead animals here...

Next off was Bonanza Coffee Heroes at Oderberger Strasse 35, Prenzlauer Berg. These guys do seriously good coffee, their latte is so smooth it's like supping on a soft, milky cloud; I doubt breast feeding is even this good....probably... I followed up with a Flat White which had a little more punch, it kind of gave me that "fuck yeah, COFFEE" feeling that I was after. I won't waste words trying to pretend I'm an expert at coffee characteristics, but these guys are roasting their own beans and the mere 3 metres that they have to travel from the roaster must make a shit load of difference, because this is some of the best coffee I've ever had.

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The Deptford Project

London truly is the city of plurality. Never have I experienced a city so vast yet condensed, complicated & utterly contrary. It gives with one hand, and it takes with the other. It's a place of extremes, where the difference between the haves and the have-nots, is almost unbearable to think of. It has a wildly fascinating history, & it's sheer scale & ability to reinvent itself is enough to keep a mind busy for years. 


I had the fortune and misfortune of living and dying in London for two years, and one of the things that became obvious to me all to late, was that the real London is now in the South East. This is where the level headed people, the young, inspired, hardworking creative people with bright ideas are really making things happen. Away from the self-aggrandizing, "doing little / talking a lot" crowds of Dalston/Shoreditch, is a testimony to this 
generation of doers/thinkers, in the form of Deptford's Carriage Cafe. When I was brought here for lunch by some friends living in Brockley, I realised this was the first time in ages I had been somewhere that had an air of authenticity about it. The staff were friendly, and probably because the success of their cafe is due to its actual merit, and not just because it had been turned into a bandwagon for trenders to jump on.


The Carriage Cafe is a superbly designed space (and this place makes great use of it), a gutted & refurbished train carriage with an outdoor elevated deck attached, seems like a great concept for a cafe, and it is. It offers great protection from the elements, but is also  flooded by sunshine when it's there....you know....kind of like a train would.


The menu offers up hearty portions of vegetarian pies, frittatas, quiche, baked sweet potatoes all with a variety green salads on the side, and all for a good price. Every time I look back at these photos, I have a little sigh & wish I was eating there again.

I went for the baked sweet potato with mozzarella, basil & cherry tomatoes & a side of fresh peas, blanched courgettes & feta salad. I don't know how they managed to make the skin crisp & lift right away from the flesh with that sweet potato, but it was damned good.

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Ye Olde Panny-cakey

Pancakes. You would have to be a complete asshole not to like them. What's not to like?! They are fluffy, friendly, sweet little circles of joy that can be embellished with anything from fruit to chocolate or yoghurt to ice cream. Ok, so if you don't like sweet things, you're kind of forgiven, not so much forgiven, but I'll at least understand your argument, and feign acceptance. 

I like to think of pancakes as being like one of the Latin European languages, and Latin as a metaphor for their ingredients. French, Italian & Spanish all have Latin roots; Pancakes, Crepes & Pikelets share the same base ingredients, and although they're distinctly different, they really are part of the same family.

I had a go at making American style pancakes for the first time, which are much fluffier than the standard. Once complete, I finished them with bananas, strawberries, blueberries, icing sugar, Greek yoghurt & a drizzle of manuka honey for that distinctly wild New Zealand flavour. Perfection.

I also have to give a little thanks to my formerly local Hackney cafe; Mouse & De Lotz, for inspiring me to make my own pancakes, because I was thrilled when they brought  theirs out in this little cast iron skillet, it's just too cute. 

Another Hackney café (or Islington if you want to be über pedantic) that's making some sexxxy pancakes (and naturally, amazing coffee) is Tina We Salute You. I had the pleasure of rediscovering physalis berries via their pancakes, as it's the crown jewel on the cascade of fruit. (I had my own photograph of these pancakes, but my camera got stolen before I could download it, so this photo is borrowed from City Owls)

Upon receiving these pancakes, I rushed to the barista to ask if she knew what this mystery fruit was called, babbling and probably looking slightly maniacal, I explained that I was just excited because I had only ever seen physalis once when I was 8 years old on a summer holiday in Motueka, & it was extremely nostalgic to bump into what I had almost believed to be a figment of my childhood imagination. Strangely enough, she knew exactly what I was going through, as she also hadn't seen them for about 10 years until she started working at TWSY, but fondly remembers eating them a lot as a young girl when visiting her Grandma to South Australia. Stories about Grandmas and physalis. Better than Grandmas with syphilis. Definitely better.

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Tiki Taster - Pacific Social Club

When winter arrives, & London turns it's lights down, it becomes one fuck of a dreary place. The sky turns to stone, the grey expanse of tenement houses & asphalt roads all unite in drab homogeny. Grey, dark, dark, grey. Just as you're giving oral sex to a shotgun, ready to paint the skyline with your own grey matter, you remember that other people have been feeling the same way in this city for centuries, & that some have had the initiative to craft escape-pods, incubators & time machines to hide from the oppressive dark seasons. Nestled in a Hackney side street, I found my own little parallel world to escape the London doldrums. Pacific Social Club is an all in one incubator/time machine/escape pod. Stepping into this little cafe, father-time's whip was suddenly too short to reach my back, I felt calm away from the hustle & bustle, I was at ease amongst the colourful bunting, 78-sleeve wallpaper, pacific island tiki carvings, wood panel transistor radios, the LP player wooing me with it's warm analogue patter, the gentle clatter of antique cups & saucers, straight out of a time-warp. This felt like home, & I didn't want to leave.

Now it's all very well & good having a carefully crafted aesthetic, but it can easily look trite or hackneyed (double-entendre) in an age where "vintage" is the old new. This place not only brims with authenticity, but it has two other key ingredients which really give it the trifecta: friendly staff, & most importantly, great food. I was fairly ravenous when I arrived, as I hadn't had breakfast or lunch, & it was already 1pm. I settled in to the Venezuelan sandwich with chorizo, beans, avocado & cheese. This toasted treat was so packed with flavour, I had to curse Jesus aloud. Once my savoury craving was satisfied, I whet my appetite on the carrot cake with cream cheese icing (it might have had cinnamon on the icing, I think?), to be honest I was still so blinded by the afterglow of that toastie, that I could've been spooning dogshit into my gob & still been happy, but nah, the carrot cake was actually great too. In the word of California's former Governor, I'll be back...Pacific Social Club...

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Wilton Way Cafe

I've been in need of a sleep in all week, and after a relatively early night following Plaid's album release for Scintilli, it was exactly what I got. Peeling my lazy carcass out of bed this morning, I went about the kitchen in search of victuals. It was Old Mother Hubbard all over again, I was hungry & angry, but decided to forget about grocery shopping for breakfast & just set out on my bike in search of a delicious lunch (it was no longer morning, & I was about to rape someone if I didn't get a coffee). I had remembered that Wilton Way cafe near London Fields had been recommended by Time Out a while back, so it seemed like the perfect destination to venture on an empty stomach.

Now, I'll be honest, I approach many places around London Fields with an air of caution, as it's well known as a spawning ground for annoying, vacuous, trendy-cunts...not an ideal crowd if you're starving & about to brave the public to breakfast alone. I had every hope that this wouldn't be the case at Wilton Way Cafe...and thank fucking god it wasn't! I was greeted by an affable young lass at the counter who was not only friendly, but patient with my misreading of the menu (I had asked for the chorizo, rocket & roast capsicum on sourdough instead of ciabatta, but she told me I could have it on sourdough if I wanted, which I did want!). The interior of the cafe is beautifully styled with warm raw-wooden furniture & floors, corrugated iron, white walls, colourful DEVOesque lampshades & their own radio station apparently!

There is a variety of seating to accomodate people eating/drinking alone or in groups, & there is natural light coming from both ends of the cafe, as well as a few tables street-side. My flat white arrived, after my first sip, I was convinced who ever was at the controls of their machine must have divinity in their DNA, because it was PERFECT. Next up, my sourdough, chorizo, rocket, capsicum sandwich. It was almost bordering on epic in size, & everything tasted super fresh. It was delicious, & also very well priced (I got at least a few pound change from a tenner for the lot). The whole package of this place had me quite tickled; the staff, the food, the atmosphere - Time Out was really on the money with this review, & will be revisiting for sure. Well done Wilton Way Cafe.
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