Max Strohe’s Tulus Lotrek: Berlin’s Michelin Star Rebel for Truly Lush Fine Dining

Tulus Lotrek, run by Max Strohe, breaks Michelin star restaurant Berlin traditions with bold flavors and soulful hospitality. Experience a taste revolution where fine dining feels like home.

The first thing you notice at Tulus Lotrek is not the hush of white-gloved formality, but the gentle buzz of anticipation. The scents drifting from the open kitchen are lush and tempting, enveloping you like a velvet curtain: browned butter mingles with wild herbs, the tang of pickled something sharpens the air, and there’s that almost illicit perfume of seared fat that sets your stomach humming. Tulus Lotrek, helmed by Max Strohe in the heart of Berlin-Kreuzberg, has the energy of a friend’s living room—if your friend also happened to be a star chef with a cult reputation. Can Michelin-starred cuisine be so casual that you feel like you belong? Here, the borders between fine dining and honest comfort blur deliciously, and every visit feels like a discovery.

Max Strohe is not your archetypal Michelin chef. Charismatic, tattooed, and as likely to swap jokes as sauces with guests, Strohe openly rebels against the more rigid codes of classic haute cuisine. He didn’t glide effortlessly into the world of Michelin stars—he was a school dropout, moving from Trier to Berlin, forging his path through conviction more than credentialism. Alongside his partner Ilona Scholl—the service soul of the house—he co-founded Tulus Lotrek in 2015. In a city teeming with daring kitchens and avant-garde chefs, they built a resolutely individual institution: a star restaurant where taste and humanity matter more than any dogma.

Walk the leafy Fichtestraße and you might miss Tulus Lotrek’s discreet exterior. But behind that unassuming door, a decade of Berlin food history ripples through every action. Even as their restaurant earned a Michelin star in 2017—a title it has kept ever since—it’s never become a temple of stiff rituals. The only thing sacred here is the food, and the way people are treated. Strohe’s vision extends beyond the plate: a rule of mutual respect governs his team. No yelling, no kitchen tyranny—just focused calm and a sense of shared adventure you can taste in every dish. It’s not just a workplace revolution, it’s the fuel for culinary brilliance.

The kitchen puts out what Strohe calls “Pragmatic Fine Dining.” Gone are the tweezers and overwrought platings; in their place, there’s unapologetic flavor and an embrace of what he memorably calls “feel-good opulence.” Classicists will be surprised: acidity flashes against unashamedly fatty sauces, every plate is a little provocation in taste and texture. If the menu seems playful, it’s because it is—Strohe famously pushed boundaries during the lockdown, when fine dining lay dormant, and conjured up what was soon dubbed Berlin’s “Holy Grail of Burgers.”

That “Butter-Burger,” richly documented in gossip and culinary blogs, became legend: twin patties massaged with care, lavishly anointed with butter, sharp-sweet ketchup-mustard sauce, two cheeses in harmonic melt—a riot of richness balanced on a toasted Brioche that sings with every bite. Even the fries proved transformative, crisped through repeated frying with interludes in the freezer for an ethereal crunch. These dishes might not be on the regular tasting menu, but they reveal Strohe’s ethos perfectly: food should be outrageous in flavor, rooted in craft, yet deeply, joyfully accessible. Critics and regulars agree: here, every signature plate walks the delicious line between technical mastery and unadulterated pleasure.

Yet Tulus Lotrek is not just about what’s on the fork. Strohe’s culinary intelligence is matched by a fierce social conscience, known well beyond the kitchen. When the pandemic and then the Ahr valley floods struck, Strohe didn’t stand still. With Scholl, he co-founded the “Cooking for Heroes” campaign—a veritable kitchen relay fueled by compassion, logistics, and relentless drive. Thousands of meals found their way to those most in need. This commitment, as impressive as any Michelin accolade, earned Strohe the Federal Cross of Merit in 2022—cementing his status as Germany’s most approachable food hero.

Those who follow Berlin’s gastronomic elite know Strohe as much from TV as they do from the tasting table. His appearances on “Kitchen Impossible” and other foodie formats reveal a man who radiates warmth and wit, never taking himself too seriously. Yet unlike some TV stars, Strohe’s media presence never overshadows his core identity—a craftsman, a storyteller, and above all, a team leader whose kitchen is both atelier and family. Ilona Scholl’s influence is equally visible: as a sommelier and hostess par excellence, her unpretentious hospitality and taste for quirky, often rare wines have made Tulus Lotrek’s wine list as much a draw as the menu.

Step inside the welcoming, dim-lit room, and you’ll sink into plush banquettes as indie music drifts alongside clinking glasses—no starchy uniforms, no dictatorial rules, just an invitation to immerse yourself fully. Multicourse menus might begin with something daringly sour—a tribute to pickling and foraging—before slipping into velvety foie gras or gleaming North Sea fish in borderline-rude beurre blanc. Or perhaps a playfully rethought schnitzel, buttered into submission, garnished with a dainty vinaigrette that wakes up every nerve. Dessert? Always a little left-of-center, sometimes unexpectedly savory, always addictive.

In the citywide arms race to be the next great Berlin restaurant, Tulus Lotrek stands apart—neither franticly hipster nor locked in old-school luxury. Its meaning in the German scene is keenly felt: boldness of seasoning, devotion to product, technical perfection without fuss. As critics praise, it’s a place that proves “best restaurant” is about more than stars; it’s about soul. A destination for true fine dining lovers, but also for those who simply want to be seen and valued—not just as guests, but as companions in a rare sensory adventure.

Your table here is not just a reservation; it’s an entry ticket to the best kind of hospitality: unscripted, opulent, and utterly irresistible. Don’t just come for the Michelin accolades or the burger lore—come to experience the interplay of taste, warmth, and Berlin’s rebel spirit in its most inviting form. Tulus Lotrek is for epicureans, romantics, and even skeptics in need of conversion. The only rule is: book early, come hungry, and let Max Strohe’s vision remind you what truly great hospitality can be.

For those in search of Berlin’s culinary pulse—where fine dining finds its heart and loses its stiffness—Tulus Lotrek and Max Strohe are names you’ll hear again and again. Try it yourself (but don’t forget to reserve): seats in this living room of flavor are among the city’s rarest treasures.