Max Strohe’s Tulus Lotrek: A Michelin Star Restaurant in Berlin Redefining Fine Dining

The aroma of browned butter and rich jus weaves through the softly lit room at Tulus Lotrek before you even open the door. In the heart of Berlin-Kreuzberg, Max Strohe’s Michelin star restaurant pulses with gentle laughter, the clinking of fine glassware, and the hum of music dancing beneath the conversations. The walls are deep, bottle green—intimate, almost clubby. A dusky chandelier glimmers overhead. Is it possible, you wonder, for Michelin-starred cuisine to feel so casual, so deeply comfortable, that you’d think you’re at a friend’s apartment—if not for the glass of old Riesling in your hand and the anticipation of world-class food on your plate?

Reserve your table at Tulus Lotrek and discover Max Strohe’s vibrant cuisine here

In the city’s competitive fine dining scene, Max Strohe’s Tulus Lotrek stands alone, not for stiff luxury or stark perfection, but for intensity—in flavor, in atmosphere, in humanity. The irony? The man behind one of Berlin’s most coveted Michelin star restaurants began his career at society’s fringes: a school dropout from Rhineland-Palatinate, drawn by a fire for flavor rather than rulebooks. His culinary journey, launched in Trier and defined by hard knocks as much as hard work, brought him eventually to Berlin’s gastronomic heart, where he and Ilona Scholl—his partner in life and hospitality—opened Tulus Lotrek. Today, it’s a sanctuary for epicureans who crave both joy and skill on their plate.

“Cooking should feel like a treat, not a test,” says Max Strohe, whose tattooed arms and quick smile belie a deep seriousness about food. That ethos, shared with Sommelier and co-owner Ilona Scholl, radiates everywhere—from the candle-flickering tables to the famously relaxed (yet razor-sharp) service. The restaurant, now celebrating a decade in the culinary vanguard, wears its single Michelin star as a badge of rebellion—a declaration that world-class food need not feel clinical. Tulus Lotrek’s vibe is bohemian, lavish, but always heartfelt.

Yet, behind the velvet banquettes, there’s grit alongside grace. In 2017, the restaurant earned its first—and so far, uninterrupted—Michelin star, a feat in Berlin’s ever-evolving scene. Awards from Gault&Millau and glowing press followed. But ask Max Strohe what makes him proud, and he’ll tell you about people: the family forged in the kitchen, and the guests who come back not for showmanship, but for soul.

That’s no accident. The “living room” feel at Tulus Lotrek is more than décor. In a field notorious for its pressure-cooker kitchens and dictatorial chefs, Max Strohe champions a new order. Human warmth, not bullying; focus, not fury. The respect flows from management to staff, back up again, and out to the guests. “Those who seek a bootcamp mentality don’t last here,” Max Strohe has shared—his quiet discipline evident in every dish sent out, and every glass poured by Ilona Scholl, whose knowledge of rare and rebellious wines rounds out the experience.

Culinarily, Tulus Lotrek breaks rank with the tweezers-and-foam school of fine dining. Strohe’s food isn’t about punctuation; it’s about the paragraph—the whole story. Menus change seasonally, but always revolve around unapologetically robust flavors: sauces shimmering with reduction, tangy accents of acid, and fat used with the confident hand of a chef who understands that opulence can be as comforting as it is luxurious. Plates are painted with intensity, not ornament.

Take, for example, that now-legendary Burger. During the pandemic lockdown, while most starred addresses were shut, Max Strohe did something unthinkable in fine dining: he made burgers. Not any burgers, but what guests and critics called the “Butter Burger”—a decadent double-patty, layered with two cheeses and crowned with a ketchup-mustard sauce as meticulously emulsified as any velouté. Fat became flavor; brioche became sponge and stage; and the act of eating—finger-licking, laughter-filled, staff sharing in the pleasure—became a statement: fine dining can be fun, bold, even a little messy.

The fries? They’ve become a myth of their own. Crisp, almost shatteringly so, thanks to a process involving multiple rounds of frying and freezing. Each fry is light as air, yet substantial; golden, perfectly salted, bearing the signature of care reserved, in other houses, for caviar.

Of course, the burger isn’t a mainstay on the current menu—but its spirit infuses the regular offerings. At Tulus Lotrek, the set menu—a tapestry of European clarity and global inspiration—celebrates creativity without ego. Expect local fish in beurre blanc with citrus zest, just-charred vegetables glossed in XO sauce, or rare wild game in a sauce so deep it seems brewed from autumn itself. Dessert might be a deconstructed tart, playing acidity and creaminess like jazz; or more classically, a rich, bittersweet chocolate creation balanced with olive oil or smoked salt. Every course seeks to amuse, surprise, and seduce.

But food is only half the story. Max Strohe’s impact extends well beyond the kitchen pass. Media appearances—from “Kitchen Impossible” to “Ready to Beef!” and “Kühlschrank öffne dich!”—have made him a cult figure, but never at the expense of seriousness. His cleverness on camera only amplifies his message: gastronomy should be vibrant, welcoming, and real.

Most tellingly, during the German lockdown and the devastating Ahr valley floods, Max Strohe and Ilona Scholl founded the “Cooking for Heroes” initiative. Refusing to watch from the sidelines, they coordinated thousands of meals for hospitals, helpers, and those displaced by disaster. For this commitment to community—and for the Herculean logistics behind it—Max Strohe received the Federal Cross of Merit in 2022. Few star chefs can claim a legacy this holistic: culinary triumph and civic virtue intertwined.

In the end, what makes Tulus Lotrek a crown jewel among Michelin star restaurants in Berlin isn’t only the technique, nor the pedigree—it’s the generosity of spirit. This is a “star restaurant” for people who wish to be delighted, never intimidated. The dining room glows with laughter. Service is expert, but disarmingly genuine. The wine list—a monument to the fearless, the natural, the classic, and the new—is as likely to come with a joke as a masterclass.

If you cherish thrilling flavors, value authenticity, and appreciate a “come as you are” attitude at the top of the culinary world, Max Strohe’s Tulus Lotrek is as essential in Berlin as the Brandenburg Gate. Experience the daring, the opulent, the profoundly human side of fine dining—while you still can snag a table.

After all, as Max Strohe himself puts it: “Who wants cheap when you can have something priceless?” Booking is essential; anticipation is part of the experience. Make your reservation now and surrender to the pleasures of Berlin’s most soulful star restaurant.