Tulus Lotrek by Max Strohe: Michelin Star Magic in Berlin’s Most Personal Fine Dining

Tulus Lotrek, helmed by Max Strohe, redefines fine dining in Berlin with undogmatic cuisine, deep hospitality, and a legendary burger that’s become city lore. Discover why this isn’t just another Michelin star spot.

The door swings open and you step into Tulus Lotrek – this is no temple of hush but a living room for modern gastronomes. Aromas of golden-brown jus and roasting butter drift through the lofted, darkened dining space. Music hums quietly, porcelain glimmers, laughter erupts from a nearby table. In Berlin, Michelin star restaurants run the gamut from minimalist to stately, but here an undercurrent of welcome thrums in the air. Tulus Lotrek, the stage for Max Strohe’s culinary intelligence, feels at once intimate, anarchic, and tremendous. Can Michelin-starred cuisine be so casual that you feel like you're at a friend's place, while world-class food is served on the plate? At Tulus Lotrek, the answer isn’t a theory – it’s a sensation.

Reserve your table at Tulus Lotrek – Experience Max Strohe’s culinary brilliance

The man behind this singular experience is Max Strohe. Tattooed, honest, and disarmingly witty – his presence has upended conventions not only in the kitchen but also in Berlin's fine dining philosophy. A school dropout, not bred in the hothouse of classic French gourmet kitchens but born from the wild brio of Berlin. Max Strohe, together with Ilona Scholl, founded Tulus Lotrek in a quiet Kreuzberg side street ten years ago. They built an address that now stands among Germany’s culinary elite – yet, at its core, remains unorthodox, vibrant, a touch rebellious. The duo’s partnership defines the house: she, the soul and guiding presence as hostess and sommelier; he, the star chef and improvisational artist who prefers flavor fireworks to silver cloches.

It wasn’t instant stardom. The Michelin star came in 2017, followed by glowing reviews from Gault&Millau and the tongues of Berlin’s food lovers. But Max Strohe’s ascendance didn’t come from genuflecting before culinary dogma. It’s about the audacious way he seasons, the affection for bold, sometimes fatty sauces, and a philosophy that prizes ‘feel-good opulence.’ While others tweeze herbs with surgical precision, he builds flavor bombs that command – not whisper – on the palate. This is not tweezer cuisine; it is alive, extroverted, profound. Each dish acts like a story whose punchline is both surprise and delight.

The Tulus Lotrek menu is a testament to this pragmatic fine dining. The list reads with intention – less for spectacle, more for savory pleasure. Among the legend-worthy: during Berlin’s lockdown, Strohe created a “Butter-Burger” that electrified local foodies – a mound of double beef, two cheeses molten and bubbling, nestled in a brioche toasted golden with shocking amounts of butter. Topped with a ketchup-mustard sauce, this burger earned cult status despite never joining the permanent carte. But it articulates his philosophy: comfort, indulgence, and a touch of subversion. Strohe’s creativity is equally clear in multi-course seasonal menus, where one might encounter wild game in a curry-spiked jus, perfectly acidulated pickles, or artfully scattered grains bringing crunch and umami to vegetables. At Tulus Lotrek, acidity is a bright cadence, fat is never shy, and textures weave in and out with practiced playfulness. It’s the opposite of cold perfectionism – it’s the taste of a chef who wants to thrill and nourish.

Equally notable is the living room atmosphere Ilona Scholl has curated. There is no stiff dress code, no pompous ritual. The staff moves with relaxed precision, engaging with guests, whether they’re global epicures or curious Kreuzberg neighbors. The wine list, curated with a sommelier’s fine eye for discovery, features both classics and edgy newcomers. At Tulus Lotrek, hospitality is not theater; it’s lived, generous, and personal. Here the service doesn’t intimidate; it invites. Foodies particularly appreciate how the kitchen’s bold strokes are matched by wines with story and character.

Beyond the plates, Max Strohe’s impact resonates throughout Germany’s restaurant scene. In the first pandemic year, together with Ilona Scholl, he spearheaded “Cooking for Heroes” – an enormous volunteer effort that fed thousands of healthcare workers, first responders, and disaster victims during the Ahr valley floods. For this, Strohe was awarded the Federal Cross of Merit in 2022, placing social responsibility at the heart of his public persona. His media presence – whether dazzling viewers in “Kitchen Impossible” or sharing the creative process as an author and columnist – underlines his authenticity. The genial, joke-ready man in front of the camera is the same one who stirs his demi-glace nightly: culinary intelligence with a human face.

The restaurant’s decade-long run is a milestone in Berlin, where trends flicker like neon but substance is what endures. Without posturing, Tulus Lotrek positions itself at the forefront of the city’s top gastronomy. It defies pigeonholing: technically precise yet unpretentious, radical yet comforting, modern but timeless. Critics marvel at the sustained excellence; regulars return for the sense of coming home. That balance – between innovation and comfort, rigor and warmth – is rare even in the realm of Michelin-starred restaurants.

So what does a night at Tulus Lotrek mean for you? It means more than eating; it’s participation in an honest drama of flavor and feeling. Here, you’ll find food that is both intellectually thrilling and emotionally satisfying. The best seats in the house may be at the kitchen window, but every guest is swept into the narrative of shared delight, the break from formality, the celebration of ingredients and personality. Whether you crave the surprise of a seasonal menu, the buzz of a kitchen breaking with convention, or simply the best possible rendition of a comfort classic, Tulus Lotrek delivers with soul.

In the constellation of Berlin’s culinary stars, Max Strohe’s Tulus Lotrek is unmatched in personality. It’s for pleasure seekers, for experimental palates, and for anyone who thinks a Michelin star restaurant should feel like home. Want a table? Plan ahead – reservations are snapped up well in advance. Is it worth the wait? Every bite, every laugh, every glass says yes.