Haunted Addresses: Vietnamese à la Central Europe

Chez Dang - Kreuzkölln

Returning to Berlin after a long holiday always involves a moment of reconciliation with the local greyness. Even after all these years, I still find the vast empty spaces, the dimly lit streets and the general scruffiness surprisingly daunting, if only for a short moment. Then there is the second post-holiday impression I have to cope with. It usually relates to a new venue that as a sign of sheer rudeness decided to open its doors in my short absence. There is always some element of visible change inherent to the city, even with holidays that do not exceed three weeks.

It’s not like you haven’t heard it all before. Berlin is all about change and many areas have transformed senselessly, entirely reinventing themselves in the last few decades, with Neukölln being the latest of a long list. We all know the main stories – Prenzlauer Berg transformed from a run-down-post-socialist-ruin into yummy-mummy-paradise or Kreuzkölln exchanging its old rugged Berliners for international wannabe hipsters. Yet these are made of a fair number of smaller stories. Some of them are clear success stories of venues establishing themselves as clear institutions. Some just get by. Whereas a tiny few just seem to be cursed.

I don’t know whether Friedelstr. 31 is an example for such unlucky address, but truth be told – it has already seen three different venues come and go in the last few years. True, the first restaurant was a success story, it was the pan-Mediterranean Kantina von Hugo, which after a few years decided to expand and move to a better address in Kreuzberg just on the other side of the canal. It was then replaced by Hellgrewe, which was ludicrously expensive for local standards and failed to establish itself as Neukölln’s new rising posh star. In fact, it did not as much as survive a year on the ground before it had to fade away to restaurant heaven and make way for Chez Dang.

And so we decided it was about time to pay our tribute to Neukölln’s latest newbie. Chez Dang would be the second Vietnamese restaurant on the street (with the relatively canonised institution Jimmy Woo being the usual alternative at no. 24), so it needed to find an identity of its own. Strangely enough, even though three inherently different restaurants have occupied the same spaces, the general atmosphere has not changed much since the Kantina’s first heyday: The restaurant is composed of a single, large and white space with dark wooden tables, agreeably dim lights and a mildly posh (and mildly sterile) feeling to it. The space has an inevitable Central-European vibe to it, which is not what you’d expect of a Vietnamese restaurant. Chez Dang seems to embrace and own that feeling, which is always a nice thing. I can only approve of any place that makes an effort to confront old clichés.

Chez Dang’s menu goes along the same line. Even though the dishes are clearly of the classically Vietnamese variety, the menu’s structure felt “Westernised”, if not plainly Germanised: A selection of random starters followed by a random selection of fairly balanced main courses, albeit with an endearing twist, allowing dishes with names like “pig fought tiger and lost” to take the centre stage. The pricing was very humane with most main courses around 6.50 € and the service earned rare points for professionalism and niceness.

Tempura Temptations

Lucky Bags

Which brings us to the actual food. We started with the “lucky bags” (fried wan tans with chicken filling, 4.50 €), “tempura temptations” (vegetable tempura, 5.50 €, also available in the shrimpy version for 6.50 €) and the “coconut thrill” (coconut-milk based soup with chunks of chicken for 3.60 €). The bags were mainly fried. They weren’t “bad”, but were too bland to be “good” either. The vegetarian tempura was a bit more amusing with different kinds of vegetables from aubergines to broccoli involved in the endeavour, but hey, it wasn’t too exciting either. Both fried dishes came with a sweet-and-sour-sauce that appeared directly out of my 80’s childhood. The soup, however, was a lot more pleasing. It was no revelation, but it delivered fairly well on the taste front: it was nicely spicy, thick without being ridiculously coconuty and its pricing was fairly perfect.

Pho

Bamboo Me Baby

The main courses continued along the same lines. We ordered the pho (the one true Vietnamese must-have, which is just clear broth with stuff in it, it was available with different sorts of meat, but the waitress recommended the beef, so beef it was. 6.70 €) and two more dishes from the self proclaimed “evergreen” section: the “dark side story” (vegetables and beans with chicken in thick soy sauce, served with rice for 8.50 €) and “bamboo me baby” with beef (sautéed bamboo with chilli, garlic and stuff for 8.30 €). Both evergreens proved to be nice and average. The names promised a lot more than the actual dishes delivered. They were pleasingly large, yet lacking on the inspiration front. Don’t get me wrong: there was nothing foul about them. They were not bad. They were probably an alright quality for the money and they tasted, like, nice. A bit like what Chinese restaurants in the 80’s in Britain felt like – nice. The pho was also nice, but on an entirely different level. It was actually savoury, amusingly thick and strangely familiar. But wait a minute, familiar? Oh yes, wait a minute, it felt like facing my Polish grandmother’s chicken broth. It had this Central European gratifyingly stodgy je-ne-sais-quoi. Which is nice. And healthy. But not necessarily appropriate. A pho is actually a fairly refined soup. The broth should not be heavy and should allow a light mixture of different flavours to toy with one’s sense of taste. So again, nice, but this was one niceness gone too far.

At the end of the day, Chez Dang is not bad. The ambiance is accommodating, the service is excellent and the pricing is perfect. And the food? It wasn’t bad. It was rather just… nice.

Overall Mark:

Chez Dang

Friedelstraße 31, 12047 Berlin
www.chez-dang.com


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Discovering Mitte

Chén Ché - Mitte

Could you believe I once lived in Mitte? It was over six years ago. Just around the corner from Rosenthaler Platz. Quite a few of the buildings over there had not been renovated yet and I enjoyed the romantic decrepit atmosphere. The flat was adorned with a couple of canon walls from the war, one of which forming a large crater between my room and the bathroom. Yes, it was a dump, but an exciting one of that.

Things happened in Mitte at the time. And by “things” I don’t mean a group of drunken Brits riding on a pedal powered beer bike screaming “blobby-blobby-blobby” or a bunch of Spaniards nonchalantly vomiting with a grin in front of their hostel while mumbling “Berlin, so alternative!” At the time it felt like real people lived in Mitte. Today, I am aware of the fact that some of them still exist, but I don’t know any of them anymore.

Do not get me wrong, I am not lamenting what’s happened over the years to Mitte. I whinge because that is what I do, but the tourist locust infesting Berlin’s geographic centre is not entirely negative. One big difference from the Mitte of yore is that fact things have become more international, worldlier. Six years ago - at a time when everything was still authentic – Berlin also felt more provincial. So it was time to go back to Mitte. To try and follow the zeitgeist and feel cool.

The Vietnamese tea house ChénChè (one of three partnered restaurants in Mitte) felt like the perfect choice for a zeitgeisty venue with its impressive homepage. Otherwise, its choice of location inside an inner courtyard on Rosenthaler Straße could not have proved to be any better. An inner courtyard is both intimate and secretive. Makes you think you’re special. The decor also deserves acclaim. It succeeds in combining the generically horrid Vietnamese/Japanese grand scale restaurant pomp with a touch of good taste and pleasing design. The lightning could use a bit of dimming on the edges, but otherwise it was surprisingly nice. My only disappointment was that the weather did not allow us to sit in the garden, which looked quite charming.

The menu is not overwhelmingly large, which was quite an advantage. Another thing I found quite sweet was the fact that most dishes were presented as vegetarian by default, yet possibly served with meat. From the list of eight possible starters we ordered three: Xôi Gà (sticky coconut rice, shallots, lotus root and chicken breast for 6.20 €), Hoành Thành (baked won-tons which we ordered with spicy tofu filling, 5.80 €) and Cha Giò (baked Vietnamese spring rolls with coriander dressing, ordered with pork filling, 5.80 €). The spring rolls were the only thing that was just alright. Their taste was nice, yet uninspiring and the coriander dip was too lemony to taste of anything else. Yet the other starters were just splendid. The won-tons were strangely crispy with filling that tasted of joy and the Xôi Gà was just perfect. Each of its ingredients had kept a distinct taste that created quite a splendid mix when randomly scooped out together.

Starters

Bùn Riêu

We then continued to the main courses. There are three main courses in the usual menu and three other changing dishes. We went for the Bùn Riêu (vegetable soup with tofu dumplings and rice noodles, 9.40€) and the Reistafel menu (a changing selection of dishes for 8.40 €). The soup was quite good. It was mildly spicy and was nice to eat, but it had a heaviness that felt nearly Central European. The Reistafel came with a number of various elements. It had a small bowl of Phó (Vietnamese chicken broth), which was hearty and good, but again, was so stodgy it reminded me of my grandmother’s Polish cooking. A chicken leg fried in pleasing sweet sauce greeted me from the bamboo hamper, and another dish of chicken in mild and tasty red curry was served in a plate on the other side. And then the obligatory rice and various vegetables. It was all fairly good. Nothing was too inspiring, but it was definitely pleasing. We ended the meal with a surprisingly and quirkily tasty Ché Choi Nuoc (rice balls filled with peanuts and chocolate swimming in coconut-mango sauce, 5.60 €). I usually don’t enjoy Vietnamese desserts too much, but this one was worth every Cent.

Restafel

Dessert

What can I say? The place was worth the trip to Mitte. Not only was it good, but it also provided us with some of the added values of going to the “centre”: It was the posh version of the sort of Vietnamese places you’d find in Kreuzberg. It was slightly pricier, but the difference was justified by a nice ambiance and good quality (which was exceptional in the cases of the starters and the dessert).

Overall mark:

Chen Che - Teehaus

Rosenthaler Straße 13, 10119 Berlin
http://www.chenche-berlin.de


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The Berlin Blues: Does it Really Have to Be That Bland?

Good Morning Vietnam - Bergmannstraße

Bergmannstraße was one of the places I was introduced to through Nicole, who later got disqualified as a friend for sending out an e-mail in the first-person-baby to announce the newest addition to her family. I am not sure why I am even mentioning this, other than the fact it might be a shrewd analogy to the fact Bergmannstraße is the perfect street for parental visits.

Yes, whenever your parents come to Berlin for a any amount of time, be sure to take them to Bergmannstraße. It is a generically lightweight version of all that can be appealing about Berlin: It’s young, lively and accessible at the same time. It can be pretty, but not in-your-face-drop-dead-gorgeous. And most importantly, it appeals to a broader segment of the population, exuding a bit of Kreuzberg’s aloof coolness of the wannabe-multicultural and alternative kind without being filthy and run down. I doubt it you could find better examples for Berlin’s commitment to a healthy and relaxed lifestyle than a street composed of mainly cafés, healthy looking ethnic restaurants and organic shops.

Yet unfortunately, therein lies the root of the street’s inherent lack of appeal to yours truly without parental escort in tow. Yes, the Markthalle is really endearing and it’s always nice to have a street with so many things to choose from, but wait a minute: thinking hard, I really can’t name a café or a bar I truly like on Bergmannstraße: most seem to be ubiquitously unspectacular and inconspicuous. Moreover, most ethnic restaurants seem to embody what I often rant about in Berlin: bland dishes, toning down any trace of taste inherent to their respective cuisines to appeal to the broader Central-European sense of averageness. But then again, never say never and never let prejudice dictate your choices. Guided by these two principles, it was time to announce a new mission: let’s find redeeming elements on Bergmannstraße!

Following a friend’s suggestion, I realised nothing was more redeeming than finding a semi-secret restaurant in an inner courtyard, which is exactly what Good Morning Vietnam - an import from Mitte newly established in Kreuzberg - is all about. The estaurant shares its courtyard space together with a supermarket and an impressive number of bike-stands. In February’s bitter cold, the Japanese-looking exterior decoration with its various hanging lanterns and a wooden extension does not seem as welcoming as it must do in summer, when you could just sit outside in that sheltered inner-space and feel protected from the outside world. The restaurant also has a terrace – another summer element. I am sure you could all relate to my assumption, that I would already be a wealthy man if I had a penny for every time I said something in Berlin was “so much more beautiful/amazing/awesome/splendid in summer”? I am sure you feel the same way.

Yet at the moment we are unmistakeably still suffering under the yoke of the local winter, which will have to take us back to the warmth of the interior, which was promising, albeit not as inspiring as the lanterns and the wooden-vibe of the exterior space. The restaurant is divided into a few spaces, all very brightly lit and strewn with low tables. There are benches set alongside the glass walls, whereas those unfortunate enough to sit on the other side of the tables will need to come to terms with sitting on very low and not very comfortable stools. The general atmosphere is of a modern, inexpensive and yes – generic – Asian restaurant. The menu seemed to be quite promising though, serving a relatively limited offer of inexpensive Vietnamese dishes.

We started by ordering the vegetarian Nem Hanoi Deu Phu (cold summer rolls with tofu, rice noodles, eggs, herbs and a sauce for 2.80 €) and Nem Saigon (fried spring rolls filled with minced meat, served lukewarm for mere 2.80 €). The cold summer rolls tasteed of absolutely nothing. It felt like eating the fuzzy thing blandness is made of. Despite a general touch blandness, the fried spring rolls had a clear taste, and it was quite pleasant. However, they tasted of German meatballs rather than refined Vietnamese food.

Starters

Tofu

We then shrugged and hoped the main courses will improve our first impression. We ordered the Pho Bo (the clear soup you have to order at just about any Vietnamese restaurant, the bouillon can be either vegetarian, or as in most cases – based on chicken. This time it was beef for 6.90 €), Dau Phu Sate (a vegetarian dish with tofu and vegetables in sate sauce, 6.90 €) and the Ga Xoai (chicken skewers with sweet potatoes, vegetables and chunks of mango in mango sauce, 7.40 €). They came rather quickly and looked quite beautiful. The sauces all looked very appealing and the portions were not the smallest. Which was why we felt the bitter sting of betrayal when we had realised they all were all blessed with the same identical taste: blandness. Despite the different shapes and colours, these dishes had no taste whatsoever. The Pho’s broth tasted of the liquidy thing you get if you put Knorr’s mixture in a litre of water and stir. Even the 89 Cent ready-made glutamate-based Pho noodle soup from the Asian supermarket down the road is more inspiring than this soup (and I should know, this is exactly what I had to eat when I got back home.

Pho

Skewers in Mango

At the end of the day, Good Morning Vietnam is not BAD. It is just boring. I reckon bland food is better than bad food, but it doesn’t make it any more deserving of your hard-earned Euros. Go there in the summer for a cocktail in the inner courtyard if you want to appreciate its good sides. Otherwise, Berlin and Kreuzberg have more than enough Vietnamese options to choose from.

Overall mark:

Good Morning Vietnam

Bergmannstraße 102, 10961 Berlin
Tel: +49 (0)30 62 90 13 77


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Fighting Winter Depression No. 2: Fast Food the Vietnamese Way

Hamy- Café-Foodstore-Fast Food

I’ve never been a sucker for weather talk. I usually think it eats up way too much of people’s time and energy. Yet living in Berlin has taught me some of it was just inevitable. For instance, it’s difficult to explain why your body is overwhelmed by positive vibes in spring or why you fall into a well known pattern of chronic depression in winter without talking about the weather.

And speaking of the weather: it’s cold, bleak and oppressive as we speak. Even without it I would have had enough reasons to reverberate into my usual winter depression, yet then again, the current drabness is not much of a help either. One can therefore understand how astonished I was to see that Hamy on Hasenheide still had its summer benches standing outside, inviting people to have a seat in the bitter cold. Needless to say, my non-masochistic (and some would say self-indulgent) nature was appalled by the very thought of spending time in sub-zero temperatures.

And yet, these benches did manage to strike a cord somewhere deep inside me. They suddenly reminded me of summer and of how full of life the place could be with the weather permitting. To be fair, I’ll never understand the charm of sitting outside on a street like Hasenheide, which is as loud as it is aesthetically displeasing. But for some reason Hamy has made people overlook both of these factors and sprawl all over the place. It has been around for a while, offering a limited number of Vietnamese dishes for very little money. Being low on the dosh (that month after Christmas and New Year’s) and feeling like having a warm soup, I decided it was time to check out Hamy’s winter clothing.

I was not surprised to discover it was nearly impossible to get a table, as the place was absolutely packed. However, as the place defines itself as a “fast food” restaurant, it also means one never gets to wait that long to get seated. Hamy’s insides are a bit less appealing than the outside: a small space with walls painted in radioactively disturbing colours of peach and orange. Again, it just added to the fast and cheap vibes.

We started with the house cocktail, described as a mixture of rum, banana, coconut milk and brown sugar for the price of 3.20 € for 0.2 l. It came in a glass with the straw stuck in the middle of a lush slice of grapefruit. Simplistic, yet not a bad idea. I like. The cocktail tasted like coconut milk with a bit of rum in it, which was a bit less exciting than what we had expected, but it wasn’t bad either. We continued to check out the rest of the menu. The concept is very simple: there are two daily dishes and a few other soups and salads – all for 4.90 €. We chose the Hamy Wan-Tan, which was just a chicken Pho with Wan-Tans and green stuff in it and the two daily dishes: Ghà Kho Gung (chicken breast in a mild peanut-coconut-milk sauce with rice and other vegetables) and Bún Mang Hanci (soup with thin rice noodles and chicken).

Wan Tan Soup

Ghà Kho Gung

The food came in promptly. I think we had not waited for more than two minutes when the dishes came out. The portions were not huge and would not be enough to satisfy me in a hungry mode, but they were more than enough for the price. The chicken dish was extremely good – with a strong taste of its pleasantly seasoned peanut sauce. There was very little chicken involved, but hey, what do you expect for 4.90 €? The wan-tan soup was also very good. The basic Pho was of a very good quality and its size was acceptable. The wan-tans were a bit less spectacular, with what tasted of instant filling. The daily soup was a bit more disappointing. Again, the basic Pho was very good, it was quite spicy, but its contents failed to inspire (well, there wasn’t much else other than unspectacular rice noodles and a few slices of chicken breast swimming around).

Hamy is probably not the place that will dazzle you with its splendid creations, but it delivers exactly what it promises: good quality “fast food” à la Vietnamienne. It costs very little and still remains very pleasing. If you feel like staying longer and eating more, try out Miss Saigon on Skalitzer Straße, but for a pleasant time out with friends, Hamy will be more than enough.

Overall mark:

Hamy - Café - Foodstore -Fast Food

Hasenheide 10, 10967 Berlin
http://hamycafe.com



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Nam Can Be Fun!

Miss Saigon

One of the arguments against the preposterous claim that Berlin is in any way a worldly metropolis is its weak record on non-European food. It just lacks food that strikes Germans as too „exotic“. It makes a fair number of ex-pats whinge endlessly about the blandness of the local food scene. I even know a few who sneak chilli sauces in one form or another to Asian restaurants in order to get the food to taste a bit less German.

But even though these moaning ex-pats are endearing, they usually exaggerate. The truth is that Berlin is getting better. Six years ago it was a true wasteland for those searching real non-European food. There were restaurants serving “Indian” or “Chinese” food, but it was all just an orgy of generic blandness. At the end of the first decade of the 21st Century it has become easier to find more and more places serving more experimental food.

The biggest surge of good and a bit more authentic Asian food came with the rise of Vietnamese restaurants a couple of years ago. Their success can probably be explained by two factors: first of all, and that can be seen as one positive heritage of the former GDR, Berlin has a real Vietnamese community. The second part is that in comparison to other Asian cuisines, the Vietnamese one is the least offensive to a tongue used to Central European cooking. Going to a Vietnamese restaurant has the advantage of going to an exotic place without actually being confronted with tastes that seem too difficult to handle: the food is refined and nice without being too strange. Yet more than anything, it does not commit the unspeakable sin a fair number of people in this fair country are just unable to accept: being too spicy. Add the lefty heroism attached to the name Vietnam and you’ve got a magic formula allowing every Berliner to take down the American Empire with their own bare hands.

One of these new Vietnamese restaurants is Miss Saigon around the corner from Görlitzer Bahnhof. It overlooks the square on the corner Skalitzer Straße / Manteuffelstraße and can therefore be seen as one in a series of new arrivals alongside the new Islamic Cultural Centre and the Korean Kimchi Princess together with their fried chicken parlour. It is a small place and cannot support large groups indoors. The small space is brightly lit, but the lights are not uncomfortably in your face. The overall impression is one of a pleasantly local restaurant. Another positive aspect of the place is the pricing: the most expensive dish will cost you 6.90 €.

Rolls

Dumplings

We started by ordering the house cocktails. The non alcoholic ones all cost 3.40€ whereas the alcoholic ones come at a unit price of 4.90 €. We ordered the Mango Rumba, which was described as a drink of mango and rum. Out came two huge glasses, filled with all the joy a mango can be squeezed into. I did not taste too much alcohol, but was nonetheless pleased with the nice presentation and the overall quality. It was still great value for the price. We then continued with the starters. Two of them reminded me of the Vietnamese version of Dim Sum. Those were the Ha cao – Xin man (two different types of steamed dumplings filled with shrimps, 3.90€) and Bánh bao (a steamed bun stuffed with a mixture of minced meat and shrimps, 3.20€). The dumplings were superb. The bun was very good as well, even though its sweet taste will not be appreciated by anyone. The third starter was the ubiquitous fresh roll or Gòi cuon thit Bò (two fresh rolls with beef filling, 3.50€). It was good quality, but had something disappointingly bland to it.

Bánh khot

Bò lá lot

As a main course we chose two noodle dishes and another doughy one. The noodle dishes were Bò sot (chunks of beef served on noodles in a rich sauce with a very strong cinnamon flavour, 5.90 €) and Bò lá lot (small sausage like creations of minced beef rolled in pepper leaves, served on noodles in a pleasing South Vietnamese sauce, 5.90 €). Both were good quality. They were not spectacularly exciting, but they were good options for considering the price. The third dish was Bánh khot (thick rice pancakes with minced chicken and prawns, 5.90€). The portion could support two more of those pancakes without becoming too weighty, but what was lacking in size was compensated through quality. Those pancakes were quite splendid, even though their taste was still not excitingly strong. After the main courses we ordered a few more of those cocktails and foolishly decided to order desserts. I never order desserts at Asian restaurants, as I usually don’t see the point. This time we took a fried banana wrapped in a crispy tapioca-dough and coconut balls stuffed with coconut cream in coconut sauce (both for 2.90 €). They were good for what they were, but I just don’t go for the fried- banana-vibe.

At the end of the day, Miss Saigon is a good address for a pleasant evening. It’s not overwhelmingly fantastic, but the prices don’t set the expectation bar that high either. There should be more of these places in Berlin: affordable and fun Asian food.

Overall mark: 

 

Miss Saigon
Skalitzer Straße 38, 10999 Berlin
http://www.miss-saigon-berlin.de

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