Climbing Berlin's Food Wall can give you a Doner.

A shawarma treasure hunt

 From the early days of Arabian Nights and Arabian Delites in V.V and Def Col, I’d leased my stomach to the spicy shawarma. Then came along Alaturka in Select Citywalk with a juicier, pricier doner. If you got the rewrap of the wrap wrong, which I often did, it would leak onto your hands and make quite a mess that added to the ritual – licking up, in a hand-to-mouth Desi way.

Before making it to Berlin, I was dead sure my first meal would be the city’s mainstay – a Turkish shawarma. At the front desk, the Dutchman directed me to the hipster area -  with a lot-of-vegan joints. (Indian = Vegetarian assumption possibly).

After being blown by the East side gallery, I backtracked to Simon Dach strasse – "the alternative part of town". By now, I’d seen plenty of shawarma joints but I was in a Simon says mode. Over the bridge, right followed by a left, and there I was, on the street named after the Prussian poet.

When you see the one, you know it. And there I was, in front of the shawarma joint, that would be the first of many, over the next six days. There was outdoor seating, which clinched it, and made me go indoors to place my order.

Look at those tomatoes on top. And the juice run down

Cash only it was, as it often is in third world Berlin. Demonetisation beckons, perhaps?  What caught my eye, as I placed my order, was the tomatoes perched on top of the chicken-stashed rotisserie. Day in, day out those tomatoes were being juiced, slowly, naturally; and seeping right through that chicken mound.

As I ordered, somewhat hurriedly, and typically Indian and out of line, I wanted to know how long it would take. That shawarma was already talking to me. There was beer too, as often is in Berlin, unless it’s an ice cream parlour.

It's a wrap.

It didn’t take long before my first shawarma in Berlin and me were united. It was wrapped tight, in this gleaming silver foil – I had gone for the roll instead of the sandwich; could tell, the locals prefer the sandwich while the Turks and Asian immigrants roll with it.

In front of me was a wasted roll with fidgety sparrows eating like, what else, but birds.

@donerdach11 was a success. I informed the maker. He asked me to follow them on Instagram. Instead I took a pic of their Insta handle.

Looks like tomatoes got to his t-shirt too

Insta Doner

 None of the shawarmas that followed came with the tomato perch. None had the finesse or poetry of the one at Simon Dach’s. That day, I walked to the next block and wrapped my shawarma adventure with a Ben & Jerry’s ice cream cup from a mom and pop store.

What did I miss? Yogi Snack – that had Tinda Masala; at 6.40 euros the most expensive thing on the menu. Yeah, this place was alternative alright.

 

Love me Tinda

Fishing for a table in Helsinki

there was some banter, and then this photograph

I had been messaging with Sanjoy Narayan who had yet again given me the lowdown of a city he was familiar with; its drinking holes and where to go when you find yourself in a hole.

Sanjoy lives half the year in Finland, the other half in Gurgoan. So if you ever find yourself at odds with what to do in Gurgoan, he's your man.

Among other tips, here's what he said: "If you're adventurous, go to Kallio, the bohemian part of the city, to explore food, music and interesting bars." Here I was, the last of the Mohicans, tracking a place to eat at in Kallio. Adventurous? This place was barely ten minutes by foot. Kolmon3n had the highest ratings, it was a Scandinavian restaurant. It appears Finland isn't regarded as a Scandinavian country; just as Jack Daniels isn't Bourbon whiskey. 

I arrived at a deserted residential neighbourhood with the designated restaurant in sight. There were tables outside. It was cozy indoors. I wanted to be indoors. I didn't have a reservation. 

I had some insistence though. Wangled a table for 45 minutes before the diners with bookings would stake their claim. I was peckish already, found myself seated next to a gent from Hungary. 

the local brew before I behaved like a lukha

I was eating a lot of fish in Helsinki, mostly salmon. In soup, burgers, or straight out of the sea, into the frying pan. I had fish here too. But I didn't photograph so you'll just have to take my word for it. On the seafront however, under the sky of blue, and this is what it looked like - 

A well read fish

But what nailed it for me, and months after I ate it, and don't quite know why I stopped at just one, was a great food investment at the food market - a prawn cocktail on bread. Must have been rye, that's their thing in Finland. The sighting excited me, the price excited me and biting into it was food friggin heaven. For me, that was Helsinki. In a no-nonsense food mart, Kauppatori Market Square and Old Market Hall (of course I had to google that), there it was, waiting amongst many, to be picked by me - or was I picked by it? So I sat it on my thigh and captured it, so i could look back and fill my stomach's eye with delicious. 

"Look at me now behaving like a fool" - Simply Red

I'm wearing the same jeans as I type this. 

After the Free Walking Tour, salmon soup at The Old Market Hall followed - and it seemed as if I had followed my fellow walkers (both from Australia but now in Germany) to share their table. An even longer walk, ice cream and then more fish at the seafront followed.

It was only later that I figured that I really hadn't made it to the proper Boho part - with fresh instructions from front desk, google maps turned on; I set off to Kallio. Only this time, it was further away. 

After the music stores, I made it to a pizzeria run by a sardar and his wife; they came here in 1984; probably after the riots. A beer later, I left for a pub where more beer and fish followed. Also at the bar was this dude with a Jack Daniels tattoo. He said he loved bourbon. I refrained from telling him that JD was not bourbon. 

The waitress doubled up as a DJ at night and asked me to pose in front of this poster. 

So much fish going but it all started with meat balls and a beer at the Scandic Paasi Hotel restaurant. I intended the meat ball snack but what came was the meat ball main course. After relatively inexpensive Berlin, these balls and beer had me by the. 

I continued to see smaller versions of the meat balls at the breakfast buffet for the next four days.

The Kingfisher variant 

Gherkins will save the world or at least the blandest food in Europe 

My last supper was at a restaurant that shared the same staff as the hotel; the owners were friends. A band of Blues old timers was about; and as in Berlin, I made my last sup a Margherita pizza. What is it about winding down before a flight.

I did have a beer, the lightest one I asked for. 

I had an early morning flight, but they had an early morning breakfast just for me - the whole nine yards, and Scotland too. I felt important, being taken care of, and wondering, if it was a little bit extreme for one person. 

I made it through my many course breakfast of fruit, cheese, juice, bread, cold cuts moving back and forth to my table for one. I finished with a weak coffee, because that's what they always served. Apparently they drink so much coffee, they suck the life out of it.