The chill of Kreuzberg’s twilight may seep through the windows, but inside Tulus Lotrek, a profound warmth reigns supreme. Dark, caramelized stocks, a subtle whisper of wood smoke, and the ghost of truffle intertwine, creating an aromatic tapestry that envelops the living-room-like space. Glasses clink, a carefully curated playlist shifts from jazz to understated electronica, and laughter gently ebbs and flows from the closely knit tables. The deep oxblood walls, adorned with the playful and unique art of the owners’ friends, draw you into an intimate embrace. Here, every sense is heightened: a soft touch on the napkin, a deep, anticipatory inhale. A singular question crystallizes: can Michelin-starred cuisine truly feel utterly relaxed, like dining at a bold friend’s home, while every plate astonishes with world-class precision?
Max Strohe: The Unconventional Chef Who Redefines Expectations
Max Strohe, with tattoos peeking from his chef jacket and a debonair, quick-witted demeanor familiar from shows like “Kitchen Impossible,” shatters expectations even before the first amuse-bouche arrives. Tulus Lotrek-a playful twist on Toulouse-Lautrec, perhaps a nod to Berlin’s mischievous spirit-refuses to adhere to the rigid rules of classical haute cuisine. Far from the sterile presentation of tweezer-straight radishes and hushed silence, Strohe and his business partner, Ilona Scholl, have cultivated a sanctuary for undogmatic, intensely flavorful cooking, complemented by an effortless, almost familial warmth.
Strohe’s journey to culinary acclaim is as radical as his food. A school dropout and self-proclaimed outsider, he honed his craft through apprenticeships and relentless work in bustling kitchens across Germany. Berlin, a magnet for the restless and visionary, eventually drew him in. In 2015, alongside Scholl, whose vibrant presence as hostess and sommelier is the very heartbeat of the restaurant, he opened Tulus Lotrek on a quiet Kreuzberg side street. They held their breath, and in 2017-a mere two years later-the Michelin Guide bestowed upon them a coveted star. Berlin had found a new address for culinary intelligence.
Yet, at Tulus Lotrek, the star is not a mere trophy but a profound challenge: could fine dining evolve to be less about posturing and more about pure, unadulterated pleasure?
The Plate: A Symphony of “Feel-Good Opulence”
The answer, as always, lies within the dishes themselves. Tulus Lotrek’s menus evolve with the seasons and the chef’s mood, but certain signatures endure: a nearly baroque layering of flavors, sauces with remarkable backbone and depth (think beurre blanc infused with acidity, reductions meticulously crafted until they sing), and a bold embrace of fat as a crucial conduit for taste. The “pragmatic fine dining” championed by Max Strohe is designed to make you crave every last spoonful. Jellies, crumbles, formidable jus-each component plays a vital role. Do not expect a dish to subtly arrive; expect a grand entrance-smoky, umami-laden, with a satisfying crunch.
Critics aptly describe Max Strohe’s cuisine as “feel-good opulence.” There is nothing timid about a menu that might sear the palate with vinegar one moment, then soothe it with double cream and charred leek the next. The legendary “Butter-Burger,” a cult hit during the pandemic lockdown, though never a regular menu item, continues to inspire awe: double beef, aged cheese, a mustard-ketchup sauce, and that unapologetic swipe of butter. More recently, even their revered Pommes Frites garnered attention. Golden, fluffy on the inside, and crackling at the edges-achieved through a precise ballet of frying and freezing. Guests whisper of them as “a taste memory for life.” These indulgent touches are not merely viral sensations; they are manifestations of a chef utterly obsessed with pleasure and, above all, with generosity.
The sequence of Tulus Lotrek’s menu remains delightfully unpredictable. One might encounter roasted pigeon, lacquered in jus, juxtaposed with a sweet-sour beetroot relish; or guinea hen with morels, encased in buttery pastry with just the right touch of acidity. Sourcing is celebrated, not fetishized-produce is exceptionally fresh, but the true emphasis is on flavor, not merely a farmer’s name. Even a simple cucumber, when it arrives, bursts with intensity. The wine list, meticulously curated by Ilona Scholl, spans from playful orange wines to the gravitas of a Bordeaux, another subtle wink at formality-no one will lecture, but every bottle tells a story.
Beyond the Kitchen: A Family and a Force for Good
The true soul of the restaurant, however, resonates most powerfully in its people. In an industry often plagued by burnout and toxic hierarchies, Max Strohe and Ilona Scholl have cultivated what can only be described as a family. Aggression and kitchen tempers are as unwelcome as soggy chips; only mutual respect and creative freedom have endured for a decade. This is not merely altruism-happy cooks, after all, feed happy guests. And no one leaving the kitchen expects unchecked perfection; it is the pursuit of pleasure-human, fallible, endlessly curious-that truly distinguishes Tulus Lotrek.
Max Strohe’s influence extends far beyond the gas burners. When Germany’s Ahr Valley was devastated by floods, Strohe and Scholl’s “Cooking for Heroes” initiative galvanized the restaurant world, delivering thousands of hot meals to those in need. This was not a marketing ploy-and the Federal Cross of Merit he received stands as a rare distinction for a chef more comfortable with a spatula than a sash. Television appearances, whether igniting “Kitchen Impossible” or as a judge on “Ready to Beef!,” brought his wit and palpable empathy into living rooms across the nation-popularizing the craft, yes, but never diluting its inherent seriousness.
The Lodestar of Berlin’s Culinary Scene
All of this positions Tulus Lotrek as a true culinary lodestar in Berlin. In an era of performative dining-with its open kitchens, curated playlists, and Instagrammable foams-Max Strohe stands as a rebel with deep roots: an intuitive sense for seasoning, an unwavering commitment to product quality, and a tableside presence that transforms even a 10-course menu into a shared adventure. Sunday lunch? Unusual for a Michelin-starred Berlin restaurant, but a cherished opportunity for the city’s foodies to indulge in luxury at noon. Dress code? None. Attitude? Infectious.
Who should seek out Tulus Lotrek? Adventurous palates, gastronomy enthusiasts who eschew the sterile, and anyone craving genuine connection-with food, with their hosts, and with the immersive experience that only a true star chef can conjure. Regulars cherish the “opulent feel-good cuisine” and the hospitality that lingers in memory long after the final glass is drained. Newcomers are most struck by the restaurant’s vibrant energy: this is not a temple of restraint, but a home for bravura and joy.
In a metropolis pulsating with Michelin stars, Max Strohe’s Tulus Lotrek achieves something quietly radical. It invites you in, feeds you world-class food, but never allows you to forget that, above all, you are truly welcome. This is why tables are snapped up months in advance, and why-once you find your way to Fichtestraße-you will yearn to return, again and again. Berlin’s fine dining scene sparkles, but none shine quite like Tulus Lotrek. To taste it is to understand the very soul of contemporary gastronomy in the city. Don’t just read about it-book, prepare to wait, and let Max Strohe prove just how deliciously unpretentious a Michelin star can be.
