Wordless Wednesday: Lucky Strike

Orange Blossom; Orange Juice, Aperol, Elderberry, Lemon, Vodka, Rosemary

Amuse Buche; Seitan Sausage & Cucumber Slaw

Lemongrass Coconut Soup with Red Lentils & Pumpkin Seed Wonton

Wasabi Praline, Sesame Crunch, Avocado, Mango Salad

Tandori Tofu, Green Pea Couscous, Spiced Jackfruit Balls, Mint Yogurt

Quinoa Potato Burger, White Asparagus, Orange Sauce

Crispy Seitan, Black Rice, Edamame, Chicory Gratin

Rhubarb Cheesecake, Nut Praline, Cookie Ice Cream

Hazelnut Slice, Chocolate Crumble, Pineapple, Plum Ice Cream

Lucky Leek
Kollwitzstraße 54
10405 Berlin, Germany

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Spargelzeit

Spargelzeit, Germany’s annual homage to all things asparagus, is one of the greatest food crazes around the world. Although the average green variety is available all year round, Germans prefer the seasonal white variety, or “white gold,” grown only between mid-April and June 24th. The end date, the Christian celebration of the nativity of John the Baptist, is harsh and nonnegotiable, spurring residents to double down on consumption while they can.

Paying tribute to the tender young stalks, there are asparagus peeling contests, festivals, road side asparagus booths, beauty pageants, farm tours, asparagus seminars and of course, cooking classes. Traditional preparations are very plain, the most popular of which being butter-poach asparagus with a heavy cloak of hollandaise sauce. For such a versatile vegetable, though, this is just the start.

Last year, I had the great fortune of experiencing spargelzeit firsthand, traveling to Beelitz, which is also known as Spargelstadt (asparagus city.) Producing the most highly regarded spargel in all the land, they also lay claim to an asparagus museum and dedicated asparagus restaurants. It was back in Berlin, however, that I really got my fill.

On one fateful crisp spring evening, a small crowd assembled in Goldhahn & Sampson around closing time. We weren’t there to flip through cookbooks or ogle truffle oil, though. Donning aprons as the front lights dimmed, we set our sights upon countless bundles of asparagus, fat and thin, green and white, fresh as can be.

Nothing was lost in translation when cooking with Boris Lauser, despite mild language barriers. Best known for his work in the realm of gourmet raw food, this unique culinary background inspires a more creative approach to cooking, incorporating elements of juicing and dehydrating right alongside conventional baking and sauteing.

Lining up hit after hit on the menu, we quickly got to work breaking down a small fortune of “white gold” for the luxurious veloute. Warm, but still raw soup enriched with cashews contrasted sharply with an unexpected dollop of sweet yet tart rhubarb compote. By equal turns soothing and invigorating, it was unlike any take on asparagus I had tasted yet. Lavished with a sprinkle of truffle oil, it hardly needed such an extravagant finishing touch… But I can’t say it detracted from the experience, by the same token.

Bacon-wrapped asparagus is exceptionally popular even among the pickiest omnivore, and I have a feeling that they would be just as smitten with Boris’ imaginative plant-based twist. Eggplant, sliced into paper-thin sheets, takes on a crisp, smoky character after a few hours of slow, steady dehydration. Topping shaved, raw spears of the verdant green vegetable, it’s the kind of dish that could feed either a dozen, or just one, if you don’t pay close attention to portioning. It’s compulsively snackable, especially with the potato chip-like crunch of that eggplant.

Relinquishing the spotlight temporarily to another vegetative star, zucchini schitzel took shape in a blazing hot cast iron pan, encrusted in breadcrumbs.

Pumpkin gnocchi, served alongside a shock of green pesto sauce, come together with a secret ingredient not typically found in the pedestrian potato variety: psyllium husk! Lending a surprising chew, they’re a bit denser and more like dumplings, but quite satisfying all the same.

The dish I was most excited for, an idea so crazy that it just might work, turned out to be a slight disappointment, but not based upon the actual eating experience. Listed as “asparagus panna cotta,” I was slightly let down to discover that it was merely a typo on the agenda. It was, in fact, a simple almond-based custard topped by fresh berries, cacao nibs, and almonds, not a stalk in sight. While it was perhaps a better complement for the overall meal, I can’t help but wonder what an asparagus dessert might taste like… But some things, like asparagus liqueur and asparagus jelly molds, are better off left untasted.

Sadly, it doesn’t look like another trip to Germany will be in the cards for this particular spargelzeit, but I fully plan on celebrating the season at home. Raw or cooked, there’s no wrong way to enjoy asparagus.

Wie isst du gerne deinen Spargel? (How do you like to eat asparagus?)

Somebody Call the Kopps

Imagine world-class cuisine with Michelin aspirations, celebrating seasonal, local purveyors, and regional specialties. Take that very same passion, elevating the everyday vegetable without any animal products, and apply it to an all-you-can-eat brunch buffet at a fraction of the cost of a comparable tasting menu. Gourmets and gourmands line up for a spot at Kopps in Berlin, Germany every weekend because the dream actually comes to life right here. The reality is far more satisfying than mere musings to feed the mind.

Easily one of the best meals I’ve had in years, there aren’t words enough to recommend this experience highly enough. Forget what you think you know about steam table warming dishes of limp hash browns or watery tofu scrambles; these are dishes on par with those offered by Millennium, or Candle 79, or Vedge, for some frame of reference. Serving staggering quantities of fine dining-quality food at fast-casual cafeteria prices, a single luxurious Sunday brunch would be worth the cost of round trip airfare alone. I would camp out here every single weekend if it was possible.

Homemade meatless charcuterie lines the cold station along with dairy-free cheeses and butters, begging to be lavished on an array of soft fresh breads. Marinated vegetables sing with a balanced acidic bite to perfectly cut through the richness while incorporating subtle notes of garlic and fresh herbs that are so well blended, it’s impossible to tease the exact combination apart. Of course you have your yogurts, chia puddings, fruits, and granola if you want to keep it continental, but what a terrible shame that would be.

Enter without expectations and prepare yourself for happy surprises. No two days are alike on this menu, which is built around vegetables found in season, first and foremost. Visiting at the height of spargelzeit afforded me the greatest indulgence of thick, fat white asparagus stalks bathed in creamy hollandaise sauce; a highlight of the entire trip, undoubtedly a fleeting delicacy for regulars, too. Pair that with luscious barley risotto, buttery grits, or even tempura fried cauliflower, if you feel the least bit self-conscious about unloading the whole chafing dish onto your plate.

Do come back for seconds, and thirds, and fourths. We haven’t even talked about the silver dollar pancakes, the plum crumble, the berry compote! Leave room for the soup while you’re there, which happened to be a deeply soothing, silky carrot-coconut number on this chilly spring morning. Don’t scoff at the salads, either, which are more than forgettable leafy fare. Tender lentils mingle with roasted beets and a light vinaigrette in one abundant bowl, while lightly pickled cucumbers remain perky and bright in another. A devilish eggless salad tempts nearby, with or without plant-based bacon.

If you managed to leave room for dessert, you’d be treated to airy chocolate mousse, tangy squares of cheesecake, gingersnap cookie bites… And perhaps, by this point, a food coma to last you until the next weekend. Actually, that would be merciful, because it’s awfully hard to go back to any other establishment in the meantime, knowing what you might be missing.

Make reservations well in advance, leave plenty of time to circle the block while hunting fruitlessly for parking, and block out the rest of your day. You have a lot of culinary ground to cover.

Kopps
Linienstraße 94
10115 Berlin, Germany

 

 

 

Here’s the Beef

I’m not afraid of controversy, but I’ll avoid confrontation at all costs. I like to think of myself as a peacemaker, but also a rebellious troublemaker deep inside. It’s within this bundle of contradictions that I was both thrilled and appalled by the announcement of a fully vegan burger going on the permanent menu for McDonald’s Germany. Yes, the very same golden arches that can’t seem to make room for animal-free french fries back home in the US. The Big Vegan TS is another daring response to super meaty patties popularized by Beyond and Impossible, made with soy and wheat, swaddled by a sesame seed bun, lettuce, tomato, pickles and red onion. Not just meatless, not just vegan with modifications, this assembly automatically omits any and all cheese, mayo, or animal-derived additives. It’s even prepared in a dedicated deep-fryer, rather than the standard griddle smeared with beef fat. No matter how you feel about the clown at large, this is big news.

Even crazier than its mere existence was the coincidence that I would be abroad just about one week after the initial launch. I had to get one. I couldn’t possibly get one. It went against every shred of nutritional common sense instilled in me, every consideration for supporting small businesses and shunning a conglomerate otherwise responsible for some of the most egregious animal abuse in the world.

Curiousity, inevitably, will be my downfall one day. Believe it or not, however, this was not that day.

Arriving at the table at speeds that only a well-oiled fast food operation could hope to achieve, it looked and smelled every bit as meaty as anything else on the menu. Crisp on the outside, charred and smoky on the nose, while the interior remained juicy, hauntingly pink as promised. Sinking my teeth in to the soft, squishy white bread, lightly stained with grease, it struck me that I had never actually eaten a burger at McDonald’s before in my entire life.

I hated it. I loved it. It was everything I wanted it to be and better, but still worse. It would have been easier just to hate it on principle, but no one can deny that carefully engineered combination of fat, sugar, and salt designed to hit all the pleasure centers of the brain. As my omnivorous dining companion pointed out, the original tastes so minimally like beef in the first place, you could likely swap the two without noticing any difference.

That’s the ultimate point here. The Big Vegan TS is not an entree made with me or the vegan population at large in mind. Forever pandering to millennials and younger generations more concerned about healthy eating, it’s a smarter alternative to red meat for someone who might otherwise indulge without a second thought. Providing a lower cost, mainstream meatless meal in places where accessibility might otherwise be a barrier, it’s a huge step in making real change across an entirely different demographic. Though hardcore vegans may still raise hell about the purveyor, it’s a move that should be celebrated for the overall impact on animal lives.

Hopefully the success of this bold new innovation will encourage McDonald’s worldwide to follow suit in short order. While such decadence would be an admittedly rare indulgence for me, I can’t lie; I’d travel anywhere for those crispy, iconic fries.