What to Eat in Berlin: A Food Guide That Actually Helps You Decide
- Mads Weisbjerg Rasmussen
- 2 hours ago
- 9 min read

Berlin's food scene isn't underrated. It's misunderstood.
Every food guide about this city starts the same way — some version of "Berlin is surprisingly good for food!" — as if 3.8 million people in one of Europe's largest cities have been quietly starving. The surprise isn't that Berlin has good food. It's that Berlin's food identity was built by immigrants, not chefs. And once you understand that origin story, the city stops being confusing and starts making perfect sense.
Here's what that means for you: Berlin doesn't have a signature cuisine. It has dozens. Turkish workers brought döner in the 1970s. Vietnamese communities settled in the east after reunification. Lebanese, Syrian, Thai, Korean, Mexican — each wave added a layer, and none of them asked for permission. The result is a city where the most exciting meal on any given night might cost €6 at a counter or €150 at a tasting menu, and neither is more "authentically Berlin" than the other.
This guide is organized around decisions, not categories. Because the real challenge in Berlin isn't finding good food — it's choosing between wildly different good options when you only have three days and an empty stomach.
The Street Food That Defines the City
Two dishes own Berlin's streets, and both tell a story about who built this city.

Döner Kebab is Berlin's actual national dish — consumed at a rate that dwarfs any other single food item. The modern döner-in-bread was popularized here in the early 1970s by Turkish immigrants, and Berlin now has over 1,000 döner shops. The average price has climbed to around €8 (up from €3 just a few years ago), which has become its own minor political crisis — Germans track the "Döner Price Index" the way economists watch inflation figures. The price rise reflects real pressures: energy costs, minimum wage increases, and the 19% VAT (MwSt.) that returned to full rate after its pandemic reduction.
Where to eat it: Skip Mustafa's Gemüse Kebap (the queue can stretch to two hours for what is, ultimately, a chicken kebab). Instead, look for shops where the meat is hand-stacked yaprak style — thin layers of actual veal or beef rather than processed mince. Rüyam Gemüse Kebab in Schöneberg or Pamfilya near Leopoldplatz in Wedding are worth your time. Order it the Turkish way — meat, onions, chili flakes, a squeeze of lemon — and judge the quality of the bread and meat without sauce masking everything.
Currywurst arrived in 1949, when Herta Heuwer mixed curry powder and ketchup she'd traded from British soldiers and poured it over fried sausage at her stand in Charlottenburg. It's a post-war dish born from scarcity and resourcefulness — and 70 million are still consumed in Berlin every year. The city's two landmark currywurst stands represent Berlin's east-west divide: Curry 36 on Mehringdamm in Kreuzberg (open until 5am, the taxi driver's choice since 1980) and Konnopke's Imbiss under the U-Bahn tracks at Eberswalder Straße in Prenzlauer Berg (serving East Berlin since 1930, currywurst since the 1960s). Both are institutions, both have queues, and neither will change your life — but understanding their history changes how you taste them. A currywurst with fries runs about €5–7 at either spot.
The honest take: Currywurst and döner are symbolic foods, not Berlin's best meals. Eat them once for the experience and the context. Then move on.
Where Immigration Built Something Extraordinary
Berlin's most rewarding eating is found in the kitchens of its immigrant communities. These restaurants weren't opened to win awards — they were opened to feed people. That's exactly why they're good.
Turkish and Middle Eastern: Sonnenallee in Neukölln is sometimes called "Arab Street," and its shawarma shops, bakeries, and juice bars reflect the Syrian, Lebanese, and Palestinian communities that have made it home. Azzam and Aldimashqi serve enormous, inexpensive plates that would cost three times as much in most European capitals. In Kreuzberg, the streets around Kottbusser Tor still hold some of the city's oldest Turkish restaurants — though rising rents are slowly changing the composition. For a proper Turkish breakfast spread (kahvaltı), with dozens of small dishes covering the table, plan a weekend morning at one of the places along Oranienstraße.
Vietnamese: Berlin's Vietnamese food scene has roots in the GDR's contract worker programme, which brought Vietnamese labourers to East Germany in the 1980s. Many stayed after reunification. The result is a distinctly Berlin-Vietnamese cuisine. You'll find excellent phở and bánh mì across the eastern neighborhoods, particularly around Lichtenberg and Mitte.
Thai: Hanuman, in Charlottenburg, has emerged as one of Berlin's destination restaurants for serious Thai cooking — not the watered-down European version.
Mexican: Until recently, Mexican food in Berlin was a running joke. That changed in 2025 when Tacos El Rey opened on Gräfestraße in Kreuzberg. The team behind Taquería El Oso imports heirloom corn from Mexico, nixtamalizes it on-site, and presses tortillas to order — a level of commitment that has produced what many food writers now call the best tacos in Germany, possibly in Europe. Each taco runs about €6 and is sold individually. Walk-ins only, Tuesday through Sunday, noon to 10pm. Expect a wait.
Pan-Asian in Charlottenburg: Most visitors eat in the eastern neighborhoods and miss Charlottenburg's Kantstraße entirely. That's a mistake. This stretch functions as Berlin's unofficial pan-Asian food corridor — better Chinese, Japanese, and Korean food than you'll find anywhere east of Tiergarten. It's a holdover from when West Berlin was the city's center, and it remains one of the strongest arguments for staying in Charlottenburg.
The New Fine Dining — Ambitious Without Being Pretentious
Berlin now holds 28 Michelin stars across 22 restaurants — more than any other German city. That fact would have been unthinkable a decade ago, and it reflects a genuine shift. The new generation of Berlin chefs isn't trying to copy Copenhagen or Paris. They're building something that looks like Berlin itself: multicultural, informal, technically excellent, slightly rebellious.
Rutz (Mitte) is the standard-bearer — Berlin's only three-star restaurant, where chef Marco Müller works almost exclusively with regional producers. The tasting menu runs around €200, and the wine bar downstairs is more accessible. Tim Raue (Kreuzberg, two stars) is the most internationally recognized name, blending Asian technique with German directness.
But the real energy is in the newer wave. Loumi (Kreuzberg, one star since 2025) started as supper-club dinners in chef Karl-Louis Kömmler's apartment before becoming a proper restaurant. The eight-course tasting menu costs €150 and draws from Japanese, French, and Nordic traditions — in a room that holds maybe 20 people near Kottbusser Tor. Stoke (also Kreuzberg) serves world-class yakitori, and its chef Jeff Claudio won Berlin's Rising Star award in 2025. Matthias (Prenzlauer Berg, one star since 2025) and Pars (Charlottenburg, one star since 2025) represent the geographic spread — Michelin-level cooking is no longer confined to Mitte.
For vegetarian fine dining, Cookies Cream in Mitte has been the reference point for years. Its chef Nicholas Hahn was named Berlin Master Chef 2025. Nobelhart & Schmutzig (Mitte, one star) takes the farm-to-table concept to its logical extreme — everything on the menu comes from the Berlin-Brandenburg region, and the restaurant asks guests to put away their phones during dinner.
What to expect in practice: Fine dining in Berlin is less formal than in most European capitals. You won't need a suit. Reservations are essential, often weeks in advance for starred restaurants. Expect to pay €80–200 per person for a tasting menu, plus wine.
Markets and Food Halls
Markthalle Neun (Kreuzberg) is the one everyone mentions, and for good reason. The 1891 iron-and-glass market hall runs Street Food Thursday every week from 5pm to 10pm — a rotating cast of cooks serving dishes from around the world, plus permanent stalls with craft beer (Heidenpeters brews on-site), wine, cheese, and bread. During the rest of the week, it functions as a proper neighborhood market. The tension here is real: Markthalle Neun is both a driver of gentrification in Kreuzberg and a genuine community space where school classes learn about food production. Both things can be true. Arrive before 6pm on Thursdays to have any chance at a seat. Cash is still useful, though card acceptance has improved.
Kalle Halle is a newer food court opening on Karl-Marx-Straße in Neukölln, featuring the return of Mogg's pastrami alongside other vendors. It signals the ongoing gastronomic investment in Neukölln, a neighborhood where you can now eat at a Michelin-starred restaurant (Hallmann & Klee, Böhmische Straße) and a €4 falafel within a 10-minute walk of each other.
Weekend markets across the city serve a different purpose — they're where the neighborhood comes together. Kollwitzplatz (Saturday, Prenzlauer Berg) skews upscale and organic. Winterfeldtplatz (Saturday, Schöneberg) is more local and less performative. Boxhagener Platz (Saturday, Friedrichshain) splits between the local morning market and the international crowd that fills its surrounding bars by evening.
Eating by Neighborhood — Quick Decisions
Every Berlin neighborhood has its own food personality. Here's what each one does best, so you can match your dinner to wherever you're staying.
Kreuzberg: The widest range. Turkish classics near Kottbusser Tor, Michelin-level dining at Loumi and Horváth (two stars, on the Landwehrkanal), the best tacos in the country at Tacos El Rey, Street Food Thursday at Markthalle Neun, and late-night options on every corner. If you only eat in one neighborhood, eat here. For more on Kreuzberg's personality beyond food, we've written a full Kreuzberg guide.
Neukölln: The current frontier. Sonnenallee for Middle Eastern food that costs almost nothing. Weserstraße for natural wine bars and newer restaurants with international menus. Hallmann & Klee for Michelin-starred dining in what feels like someone's living room. Common for Copenhagen-level cardamom buns and seasonal pizza on Bavarian flour dough. The neighborhood is changing fast — what's here now won't all be here in three years. Read more in our Neukölln guide.
Prenzlauer Berg: Brunch capital. The neighborhood's thorough gentrification produced excellent cafés, bakeries, and weekend breakfast spots. Konnopke's for the currywurst pilgrimage. Matthias for a Michelin dinner that feels surprisingly relaxed. The Saturday market at Kollwitzplatz for high-end produce and people-watching. Our Prenzlauer Berg guide covers the neighborhood in full.
Mitte: Fine dining concentration — Rutz, Cookies Cream, Nobelhart & Schmutzig, Bandol sur Mer, Barra. Less interesting for casual eating, because the tourist infrastructure pushes prices up and quality down around Hackescher Markt and Alexanderplatz. Eat here intentionally, not by default.
Charlottenburg: Underestimated. Kantstraße's pan-Asian restaurants, Pars for Michelin-starred innovation, the food hall at KaDeWe (the department store's sixth floor is an attraction in itself). A genuinely different food experience from the eastern neighborhoods — quieter, more established, less trend-driven. If you're staying in western Berlin, you're eating well. Our Where to Stay guide explains the neighborhood tradeoffs.
Schöneberg: Quietly powerful. Three Michelin stars (Faelt lost its star in 2025, but Bonvivant and Bieberbau hold theirs). The Saturday market at Winterfeldtplatz. French bakery La Miche in the Crellekiez. Less noise, more substance.
Wedding: Berlin's most honest neighborhood for cheap, excellent food — primarily Turkish and increasingly Korean. Pamfilya for arguably the city's best döner. Sprengelkiez for new wine bars appearing alongside decades-old Eckkneipen (corner pubs). No one comes to Wedding for food tourism yet, which is part of why it's good.
Drinks That Deserve Mention
Berlin's bar scene is covered in depth in our Best Bars guide, but a few things belong in a food conversation. Natural wine has taken over the city — nearly every serious new restaurant has a natural-wine-forward list, and dedicated wine bars have multiplied across Kreuzberg, Neukölln, and now Wedding. Craft beer started at places like Heidenpeters at Markthalle Neun and BRLO near Gleisdreieck. And the Späti — Berlin's ubiquitous corner kiosk, open late and selling cold beer for €1.50–2 — remains the most democratic drinking option in any European capital.
The Berlin Reality Check
Berlin's food scene was not built by food people. It was built by the Turkish families who opened kebab shops, the Vietnamese workers who stayed after the Wall fell, the Syrian refugees who set up on Sonnenallee, and the broke creative types who turned industrial spaces into supper clubs. The Michelin stars came later, and they're impressive, but they arrived in a city that was already eating well — just not in ways that guidebooks knew how to categorize. The one thing Berlin still struggles with? Traditional German food. This was never a great culinary capital in the classical European sense. There's no Berlin equivalent of Lyonnaise cuisine or Roman cooking. The city's food identity is defined precisely by the absence of that tradition — and by everything that filled the gap.
Practical Details
Budget expectations (per person, 2026):
Street food (döner, currywurst, falafel): €5–9
Casual sit-down meal: €12–20
Mid-range restaurant: €25–50
Fine dining tasting menu: €80–200+
Reservations: Essential for any Michelin-starred restaurant (book 2–4 weeks ahead). Recommended for popular casual spots on Friday and Saturday evenings. Weekday lunches are almost always walk-in friendly.
Tipping: 5–10% is standard in Berlin. Round up at casual places. Leave 10% at sit-down restaurants. Tip in cash when possible.
Payment: Card acceptance has improved significantly, but some döner shops, Spätis, and market stalls remain cash-only. Carry some euros.
Hours: Berliners eat late. Most restaurants are busiest between 8pm and 10pm. Many kitchens close by 10:30pm, except in Kreuzberg and Neukölln where late-night options run past midnight. Sunday is brunch day — expect queues at popular cafés from 11am.
Vegetarian and vegan: Berlin is one of Europe's strongest cities for plant-based eating. Almost every restaurant offers vegetarian options, many have full vegan menus, and dedicated vegan restaurants span from casual to Michelin-starred (Cookies Cream, Bonvivant).



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