einsunternull, June 2017

This star of the week restaurant was the einsunternull, again very centrally located in Berlin-Mitte at Hannoversche Straße 1 (right next to Oranienburger Tor/U6).
Having just returned from Puglia and the rich, sun-favored cuisine of southern Italy, I was ready for some German regional cooking and flavours!
I choose the einsunternull because it has been described as being in the middle of a triangle formed by reinstoff, Horváth, and Nobelhart & Schmutzig by the Gault Millau 2017. Knowing two of these already, I was curious to see how they overlap (and the logical consequence is needing to visit reinstoff soon, too, whose team gave birth to the einsunternull - you can read the whole story as well).

Yet, if you check their reviews on Google, you will find they rank at (as of June 2017) at a dismal 3.7 out of 5. Normally, due to rating inflation, any rating on Google below 4 effectively translates to "avoid at all cost" - yet this is an award winning, Michelin-starred restaurant. And, in contrast to the Nobelhart & Schmutzig, the ratings are not given due to political controversy, but really in response to the culinary experience of the diners. What are chef Andreas Rieger and his team up to? Clearly, I needed to find out for myself.

Arrival

Showing up just after the restaurant had opened on Saturday at a quarter past seven, I was shown the elevator to the basement - where the kitchen and restaurant are situated. Being the early bird allowed me to enjoy the interior for myself for a bit. I am actually quite happy how dining alone means you tend to get the table in the corner - back to the wall, able to take in the entire scenery of the restaurant!
The ambiance  reminds of a typical Berlin cellar, and the light accents and large windows to the interior yard helps create an earthy feel while retaining a sense of space and openness.

The choices

The meal

The einsunternull makes this part simple. A tasting menu of 10 courses reflects the current season, and you can choose anything between 6 to 10 courses either on your own, or let the chef choose. Since I really don't like the risk of missing out, I naturally went with all ten.

The drinks

Drinks, even the filtered tap water, are not included in the meal. And while it would be obnoxious to complain about prices, I do think they could survive just folding the water into the menu.
My personal litmus test is what the restaurant has on offer if one declines the alcoholic pairing - as I always do. (Which tends to flummox Italian waiters, but that is a story for another post.) Alas, the einsunternull falls a bit short here (but later redeems itself somewhat): asked about such an alcohol-free pairing, I am informed that it does not exist at this time, because too many of the courses have changed. The causal connection between the two is not immediately apparent to me - surely the obvious step would be to update said pairing as well?
However, they do have non-wine choices. These start with the usual soft drinks - though not from Coca Cola, as they don't support these companies, I am informed - but instead from Fentimans, some artisan apple drinks, and a few experiments: ferments with kefir and kombucha. The latter don't perfectly qualify as alcohol-free due to the natural fermentation, but are low enough due to the low sugar content and dilution to work for me. (Around the 1% range.)

The meal

I started with an aperitif - a glass of Pomme-Pure Cox Orange, a sparkling unpasteurized apple juice from Duttenhofersches Apfelgut. The sweetness is well-balanced by the slight tartness, with a distinct aroma of sour berries. It was served maybe one or two degrees too chilly, and it really is quite foamy. But delicious nonetheless.

Amuse bouche and bread and butter

The first course arrives; a parsnip puree topped with parsnip slices and wood sorrel sprinkled with verbena dust, served with a celery tea. The parsnip puree is mildly bitter - we will get back to that theme -, and the thin al dente slices yield a pleasant texture combination. To be quite honest, I am not sure I was able to taste the verbena, but it made for a great presentation.
The bread is a house-made wheat sourdough. Delicate yet crunchy crust, mild flavor with subtle notes of bran, and a crumb that is mildly elastic yet flaky. Since it was allowed to cool down, it did not dry out during the dinner and lasted to the end. The butter is based on sweet cream, then seasoned with rock salt - a good palate cleanser, but could be more adventurous. Perhaps not dissolve all the salt so some crystals remain for texture? Take the risk of using raw milk butter?
The cutlery is refined, and stays with you for the entire savory part of the meal (though they will swap if you return some). The bread knife smelled slightly of a fresh, grassy, citrus-y essential oil I couldn't quite place or maybe was just imagining ...

Country Coffee

The next, and first real course of the menu, focuses on chicory. The naming of the dish stems from the post-world-war-two use of roasted chicory root as a coffee substitute in Germany. (And, indeed, my grandparents still occasionally consumed it.) Half a raw, crunchy chicory bulb is served on a chicory-coffee mayonnaise and baby quince creme, with blanched chicory root discs and finally topped with ground chicory "coffee" powder (the black dust). The OCD part of me (i.e., I) really appreciated how it was aligned with the pattern on the plate, too!
Let me be frank: this dish is not a subtle start. (The subtleness that is in the baby quince creme is entirely overwhelmed, but still a welcome sweet background chord.) This is a frontal assault on the bitterness receptors on your tongue and in your throat; from the earthy cellar flavor of the black "coffee" mayonnaise to the sharp bitterness of the raw chicory to the ashen, bitter powder, this blows your palate. The first tastes of all the components was harsh, had me sitting back in my seat and straighten my back - and similar to the sensation of chili-induced pain, one gets used to it a little, but  it never quite fades.
A bold dish for sure. For the rest of the evening, I watched faces of my fellow dinners when they bit into it for the first time - from shock verging on disgust, to a polite little freeze and then continuing to chew, to "my bitterness receptors clearly don't work and I probably also eat brussel sprouts like candy", I've seen it all.
This set quite a theme - there were bitter components in every single plate tonight, but to my palate, none as intense as the first one. And I am in favor - I felt challenged, because bitter is not a taste that a menu usually focuses on. In fact, it is something we've evolved to be able to test because it is often associated with poisonous foodstuffs! It was refreshing to taste more of these ingredients in a single menu. But I suspect that this explains why the ratings are as they are - this flavor cannot not polarize. If you are not adventurous, you may not enjoy being pushed out of your comfort zone.
By now, I had ordered a Fentimans Tonic Water; tonic is one of the few soft drinks I like, and I hadn't tried Fentimans' yet. However, I quickly decided that I really did not need more bitterness to go with this menu - I finished the drink and switched to the organic orchard apple kefir. A rich champagne flavor with notes of calvados and sparkling, not foamy at all. Very good.

Champignon Bread

The second course: a beautifully arranged bed of thinly cut, raw champignon slices. Hidden underneath, a slightly crunchy bread cream on one side, and a champignon cream on the other. They are finished with a few drops of linseed dodder oil, young blossoms from various plants of the onion family, and finally a few salt crystals. Let's be honest: raw mushrooms don't taste of much. But they provide good wavers for the slightly crispy bread cream, and the very umami dark mushroom reduction with its - again - bitter, earthy chords. The oil, too, has slight bitter notes, but they are somewhat offset by the fatty texture. The onion blossoms add fresh, pungent aromas. No bite is quite like the other, as the various flavors combine, and you scoop up everything in different portions. (And again, note how the plate aligns!)

Beef with sour potatoes

One of only two meat courses. The cut of beef rip has been mildly grilled and smoked, and then finished sous vide. The bed of thin al dente potato slivers is served on a soured, milk-based fermented sauce with chamomile, and dusted with roasted potato skin and chamomile power.
The fermented sauce is only very mildly soured, and has little acidity. The chamomile's sweetness completes the flavor profile well, and the dust again adds bitter colors to the plate.
My first bite of the meat cut was divine - you can see the deep red, fatty bit toward me on the plate. This was most excellent; salty, rich in flavor, meltingly soft. The large middle part was also cooked to perfect texture, but was a bit bland - the flavor from the crust does not penetrate, and a few salt crystals would have served. The final bite, the last cut facing away from me - overly salty, charred, which I don't believe was intentional.

Black Salsify

The next dish focused on black salsify. Sliced whole, including the skin, served on its own puree and thinly cut pickled asparagus, and hazelnut oil and raw hazelnut milk. The latter added a creamy texture, and - does it even need to be said at this point - some more variants of mild bitterness. Clearly, black salsify itself is somewhat bitter, but surprisingly restrained if cooked just right. The asparagus was again only mildly fermented (I think I have a taste for more boldness when it comes to this aspect), but really added the needed crunch to the plate.
Time for another glass - this time, the quince kombucha. Slightly astringent, fresh, not sparkling at all, with mild notes of whey and vinegar.

Braised Onion

A strong reduction of carefully roasted and caramelized onions, and I'm assured that no additional flavorings were added. Served with pickled onion boats and spruce sprouts (in rapeseed oil).
The reduction is truly excellent; a sweet intense taste and aroma explosion of roasted onion, reminding me of red wine, even chocolate and umami. Earthy, and the bitter chords of a strong roast. The tartness of the crisp onion bites perfectly complements this; highlighting them through contrast, but also rounding the flavor profile and providing texture. The sprouts, alas, can barely compete, but still add subtle forest colors. Very well done.

Charred char

Char, from the Müritz, charred to black on one side only, plated along a carrot-rapeseed oil reduction. (And the play on words is not nearly as obvious in German, but appreciated nonetheless.) So, I have never met a fish from the Müritz fishers I did not love, and this is no exception: perfectly tender, glassy to perfection, it's melting texture highlighted by the ashen blackness. The earthy sweetness of the creamy carrot reduction goes along splendidly. What else is there to say? Perfect minimalistic plate. Amazing.

Elderberry Shingen Mochi

A Japanese water cake (agar-agar based) served with a fermented elderberry sirup (poured on right on the plate) and a dusting of finely ground elderberry seeds is served as a refresher.
It struck me as a fresh interpretation of Elderberry soup, something served in some Germany regions to the ill (due to its high vitamin C content). Elderberries are both sweet and - yes, I am going to say it again - mildly astringent and bitter, emphasized by the ground seed powder. Both delicious and beautiful!
I had one more drink to try - cucumber kefir. Max hesitantly made me try it first before pouring the whole glass; apparently, it is an unusual flavor that not everyone enjoys. For me, it turns out I should have ordered it much earlier! The slight tangy bitterness of the cucumber skins, and very mild sparkle (due to the low sugar content for the kefir to work with), fresh acidic but not astringent taste, really went well with the dishes. Max and I disagreed a little about how to perfect it - I was in favor of lemon balm or maybe one of the citrus mints, he was thinking basil -, but nevertheless, a very pleasant surprise. 

Sunflower seeds

The next dish is very green: sunflower grounds (the press cake from producing the oil) is hidden underneath slices of sunroot and wild, young horseradish. Max suggested this might be the most bitter dish of the entire menu, and he was not far off - but for me, it just could not match the first course's surprise of "they are daring to serve what?".
Another course I thoroughly enjoyed; also that so many of the highlights of this menu do not rely on meat, but exploit the massive variety of green flavors (literally, in this case). The horseradish was not hot, though; it mainly added crunch and - yes - bitterness. I think a slightly more pungent variant might have worked even better.
And, alas, this brings me to the end of the savory part of the dinner; my cutlery is cleared away and replaced by a spoon only.On to the desserts!

Roasteds

The first of two desserts is an ice cream with anise, some jam, hidden underneath roasted and caramelized wheat flour crumble. I understand the idea of this dessert - the roasted caramel and the anise would have been able to continue the theme of bitter tastes over into the sweet part of the menu, sweetness provided by the caramel and jam which also adds some fruit acids. Alas, the crumble just overwhelmed the more restrained aromas of the anise and jam (I can't even recall what kind of jam it was), both in flavor and texture. It was still very enjoyable, as crumbles tend to be, but perhaps using less of the crumble but more of the anise would be an option?

Three-day-cooked beetroot

But fear not, for there is one dessert yet to come. The beetroot is cooked for three days - it is the black spread you see on the plate -, a bit of rose jam placed in the middle, aronia berry granite on top, and dusted with strong caramel powder. (Don't be mistaken by the light color of the powder; that's a side effect of milling it.)
This dessert delivers. The beetroot reduction is intensely aromatic, earthy, tasting of chocolate and caramel and Mexican mole, and for those of us who did grow up in the German farming country side, reminds of Grafschafter Goldsaft (the reduced molasses from sugar beets, a common sweet spread). The rose jam added some unusual floral aromas, the aronia granite is both fresh, red berry, and yet slightly bitter and astringent, and the caramel powder just dots the i's and crosses the t's.

Parting sweets

The two tiny spice cakes finish off the plate and sweeten the bill. They incorporate a little bit of beetroot, akin pumpkin pie, and, alas, also meant that my meal ended, never a good thing.

The service

The service was friendly, professional and casual, and always courteous and open for a quick chat. One oddity was that nobody introduced themselves; at the end of the evening, I finally asked my waiter for his name so I could write a proper blog entry.
Averaging about 15 minutes per course (including the amuse bouche and parting sweets) is a good timing; as a single diner, I might have appreciated it just a minute or three faster, but this would be perfect with company.

In summary

Their focus on regional ingredients and cuisine is clear. And indeed, there were several courses that evoked childhood memories with the German country side for me, but always with a new twist. I enjoyed the reduced focus on meat, which fits in well with the focus on pre-abundance Germany; be it the chicory coffee, or the need to extract sugar from beets, or reusing press cake, or dealing with foods that are not easy on the palate.
One my inspiring - impressive - challenging scale, this meal scored higher on challenging and inspiring rather than on impressive; that's not meant as a slight to the skill, but a sign of how unusual bitterness is in today's cuisine today. Personally, I appreciated this, but as covered above, I can see how this might be too far out for some. Yet, selfishly, I hope they continue boldly on such a course with other aromas and tastes and sensations.
The only room for improvement that I'd raise - the others being subjective culinary preferences - is that of the non-alcoholic pairing. The explanation doesn't make more sense to me on the day after. And the few drinks that I tasted clearly demonstrate that they are quite capable to achieve this. (I understand that this is likely due to low demand by the average guest, but hey, this is my dinner report ...)
I look forward to experiencing where their journey goes. Berlin is richer for having them in the family.