EXBERLINER Issue 164, October 2017

REGULARS
German Palomeque
Brasserie Colette
Better than a French spoof
If you’re Tim Raue and you’re looking to
open your fifth restaurant in Berlin, a
French brasserie this time, what do you do?
First, you find a location across the street
from KaDeWe to ensure a flow of well-to-do
West Berliners eager for a simple but gourmet
experience. You make sure that the dilligent
waitresses bring baguette and butter to the
table before your guests even have time to
verbalise they’re gluten-free, and you throw
a jar of pickles into the mix, which you duly
label as “cornichons” even though they’re just
as sweet and mild as German gherkins. You
do classics and keep their French names, like
“steak frites” and “escargots”, even “pot au
feu” or “Salade Nicoise ”. When you want to
be creative with your schnitzel you make it
“cordon bleu”, and you get away with smuggling
the German dessert Heiße Liebe on the
menu by listing it as “Amour Chaud” (“hot
love”, vanilla ice cream with warm fruit).
Then you pick a French-sounding name like –
why not? – “Colette”, in a personal tribute to
a certain Colette who made crêpes somewhere
on the French coast. The facts are
foggy, but who cares? It’s got the right ring
to it. As evidenced by the Asian fusion that
earned the born Kreuzberger his Michelin
stars (and a restaurant empire that stretches
from Berlin to Dubai), Raue is a bold man
who trusts his instinct and imagination
more than he cares about accuracy. So far,
it’s worked wonders – and Colette, a French
bistro with sister locations in Konstanz and
Munich, is mostly no exception.
The escargots (€10), for example, were a
divine surprise: no shell, garlic or butter here.
From the original recipe, Raue kept only the
parsley, throwing the naked gastropods in a
small salad-like concoction with bone marrow,
a crunchy touch of croutons and a delicate
gingerbread-y dressing. The artichoke
(€11) arrived whole and ready to be de-leafed,
but with a trio of creamy dips you’d more
likely find in the US than in France, where
it’s often eaten with vinaigrette. The soft,
home-cured salmon (€17), beetroot-red and
sweet, is a mighty slice brought a notch above
average by a touch of chervil – an herb too
rare in Berlin’s kitchens, and nicely recurring
throughout the dishes served here. That cordon
bleu (€19) scored higher for its refined
aesthetics than its culinary achievements, but
with its smokey touch of Taleggio and bacon,
its perfectly crunchy breading and a flawless
pea mash, the small cylinder made for a
pleasant comfort dish (despite the somewhat
jarringly hot piment d’espolette mushroom
sauce). A similar feast for the eyes was the
octopus (€22), juicy and soft as butter, served
with an exquisite veal-head jus
and a side of Jerusalem artichoke
mash next to blanched heads of
lettuce and pear; this time, the
alliance of textures and flavours
lived up to the alluring aesthetics.
As for desserts, they definitely
were up to the French standard
– a good example is the mini-
Madeleines (€10), prepared à
la minute. Served with a side of
chocolate ice cream, the small
shell-shaped bites arrived hot
from the oven and were doused
with the creamy egg liqueur
advocaat right at the table. This
is no fake, and neither is the
extensive wine list. Organised by
vineyard, it spans all the French favourites,
including some great Côtes du Rhône reds
and Burgundy whites by the bottle, and a
sharp selection of open wines – like a very
elegant unoaked Chardonnay from Le Ventoux
region’s Chateau Pesquié.
The verdict: who cares about authenticity
when creativity can make up for it? And on
our visit, Raue’s team of chefs proved to us
they could pull it off. — François Poilâne
Brasserie Collette Tim Raue Food HHHH
Vibe HHH Passauer Str. 5-7, Charlottenburg,
daily 12-15, 18-23
Michel Le Voguer