Restaurant Macionga
Restart….reboot….hear sound of a turn-of-century modem connecting to Netscape. After a few months of doing other, mostly less satisfying stuff….I am back. Normal restaurant reviewing services are hereby resumed. And, as I’m in the process of pledging myself to becoming German, so too I pledge to only review Berlin-based restaurants from now on. The list is long. Tablecloths are spreading….chortle.
I begin this frosty Friday evening at Restaurant Macionga, in deepest Charlottenburg. It’s 19:45 and the place is already buzzing. I see a waiter bringing out desserts to what I can only imagine are pre-theatre diners. After I gracelessly remove five layers of insulating clothing, I’m given a near optimally situated table. I can see everything from here, including the owner / sommelier (Mr. Macionga), whose cheery face I instantly recognize from the restaurant’s website.
At the offer of an aperitif, I jump like Dick Fosbury. A big glass of rosé Cremant is delivered forthwith. I’m pretty sure this particular wine is available at Rewe, but it prepares the palate nicely, so who cares? I see this is a small-plates dining concept, and I’m encouraged to choose three of four dishes from a list of ten. I plot my course, avoiding all incarnations of beetroot and truffle, my personal Scylla and Charybdis.
I gobble some delicious, extra malty Vollkorn bread and slick, artery-coating butter whilst I try to make a wine choice that can reconcile in some way with my veggie, beef, fish and pork selections. This is no easy task as the wine-list is a tome, the likes of which I have seen only once before in Berlin (see Irma La Douce review). Something called Komplex19 (2020) speaks to me, apparently hailing from the André Macionga Winery, Disibodenberg. It seems rude not to sample the family wine, oder? Komplex19 sounds like the name of an invite-only extreme sex club or a nefarious spy-ring. And now I’m wondering why it “spoke to me”.
I’ve ordered four dishes, but in what order they will arrive is a mystery. I trust that somebody, somewhere has a plan. First up - pea mousse with green apple. Quite a lively start. Like licking a battery, my tongue is abruptly awakened by the edgy, galvanic lemongrass vinaigrette that surrounds this construction of apple and pale green cream. Horse-radish warmth emerges from somewhere, then the pop of sweet garden peas. This is stimulating, experiential stuff.
What comes next is worthy of song. Beef tartare. Though the menu suggests this might not be a classical recital….maybe no toast points, I thought….I did not think of this. The beef is utterly smooth, heated by a good whack of Szechuan pepper, simultaneously cooled by flecks of a lemon crème. I’m instructed to taste this in series, before a crunchy hexagon of stuffed cucumber, before a slurp of hot, fermented beef and sesame consommé. The latter is so comforting, so densely and earthily nutritious, they should be selling it by the jar as an antidote to Berlin Winter depression. Together, this is quite fantastic. A thrilling mix of textures and tantalisations. It is not to be missed.
My chilli & umami ravaged tongue fails to make any sense of this red wine from Komplex19. I’m getting roasted almonds, or something similarly nutty recently removed from an oven. It’s strong and smooth and it’s making me feel all Friday. That said, I am concerned it may not befit the next course, most likely the flamed mackerel with pear, yuzu and flower sprouts (whatever they may be). You fool, Daniel! Mr. Macionga has already done the thinking for me. I notice much too late that there are wine- and “advanced drink” pairing options at the bottom of the menu. What a mistake! This sounds like a dream. I can only imagine what fun the advanced drinking package could have provided. Why didn’t anybody mention this?
As it turns out, the only beverage that could pair well with this next course, is water. This is a visually striking plate to be sure. The mackerel is crisp on top, glassy with just a little bite. The pear is cool and sweet alongside it. Yet the dish is (for me) overloaded with salt. My mouth is aggravated not aroused, and I resort to eating the remaining bread in an effort to re-equilibrate.
“And now for something completely different”….a confit Papada Bellota, which I take to be something like Guanciale. It’s a proper slab of sweet, pinkish flesh that pulls part with no effort. It’s served with a rich, nay filthy-rich demi-glace and three accompaniments that I prudently (i.e. unimaginatively) sample in turn. A smoked paprika affair that I estimate to be too spicy for many Germans, is easily my favourite. This adds levity and cuts through the strong animality of the pork. I’m happy this dish was brought out last. It is so indulgent that I don’t think it could be gainfully followed by anything else savoury.
I sit for a moment and give my overworked tastebuds a breather. Time to appreciate my surroundings. I’d say the place is comfortably upmarket, uncluttered by any “defining” interior features. The artworks are prominent in their colourfulness. I’m particularly taken by a painting of a muscly butcher hacking through a rack of ribs. And if I peer around the pillar to my left, thankfully out of my direct line of sight, there’s a picture of something that is either a bat, a heart, or a hyperplastic vulva. I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
I order the least complex sounding dessert, a cheesecake cream with mandarin and miso. This is undeniably good, clever and full of contrasts. The cream cheese is clean and smooth, is then ridden over roughshod by crunchy smoked almonds. The mandarin comes in the form of a sorbet that I feel sure contains Mandarine Napoléon liqueur. It’s a lovely ending to a meal, which has at times felt like an intensive training session for my palate.
When the waiter comes to discuss digestifs, I’m delighted to hear of two Calvados varieties. I choose the elder. Alas, it arrives at room temp in an Obstler glass, which feels very much like a missed opportunity. Oh, for some steam! At 22:10, I raise “the sordid topic of coin.” Five minutes later I’m re-layering myself and I’m off into the night. Splendid.
My final tally.
Atmosphere 7/10
Food & Drink quality 8/10
Service 9/10
Value for money 8/10
8.0 / 10
“Beat your depression with beef consommé; be guided on wine; stretch first.”
