I hadn’t been to Moeve im Felsenkeller on Akazienstrasse in Schoeneberg for years, and tonight it became clear to me what a terrible oversight that had been. It ticks all my boxes to propel it straight into the premier league of pubs: no music, original wood fittings, multi-generational clientele, sense of history, intellectual-friendly, modest, sense of gravitas, hints of wry humour. For the bonus round: small, unusual floor plan, toilets in odd places, limited selection of hearty food, linoleum floor, friendly middle-aged staff, a landlady who looks like she could have been a lawyer or writer, original decades-old drinks menu on the wall. Oh, and an extensive selection of well-poured beers. What can I say? My new contender for Berlin’s best pub. This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.
Saturday morning pancakes, an erstwhile tradition in the OB household, has recently been making a comeback after a period of unwarranted neglect. Unfortunately this morning’s batch was devoured too quickly for me to take a proper photo, leaving only these two stragglers. Like the scones, this recipe is also from the Rose Bakery cookbook. And like the scones, the pancakes rely on reckless quantities of baking powder to achieve their prodigious lift.
It pains me to admit it, but the scone recipe from the Rose Bakery’s “Breakfast, Lunch and Tea” produces better results than the time-honored recipe of my Scottish mother. They do tend to turn out a bit salty, but that’s probably my sloppy measuring. In any case, I shrug it off with it’s-not-a-bug-it’s-a-feature insouciance. (The cobblestones have nothing to do with scones, but the photos were next to each other on my phone roll and I found the parallel pleasing.)
I’m not crazy about Nigella Lawson’s views on gender (domestic goddess? princess-themed cakes for girls?) but when the chips are down, she’s my go-to person for baking nous. This buttermilk cake was my first ever birthday cake (can you believe it?), but boy was it tasty, with a perfectly moist dense crumb. The recipe was of course from How to Be a Domestic God.
Life, I feel, is a bit like a dishwasher: You start off wondering how you can possibly fill it, and end up wondering how you can possibly fit everything in.
My absolute favorite thing in the world is waiting for a friend in a cafe or restaurant. And what better place to wait than the fabulous Joseph Roth Diele?
Monheim on Blisse Strasse claims to be Berlin’s oldest ice cream parlor. That may or may not be true, but it certainly has the coolest cone holder.