Tulus Lotrek by Max Strohe: Berlin’s most intimate Michelin-star thrill ride

The first thing you notice at tulus lotrek is not the Michelin star, but the murmur. Glasses clink, people laugh a little louder than you would expect in a temple of fine dining, and somewhere in the background a bassline hums instead of classical strings. You sink into a velvet chair, the light is low and flattering, and the air is thick with the scent of reduced sauces, roasted bones, and melted butter. Can Michelin-star cuisine really feel this casual, as if you were at a wild dinner party in a friend’s living room, while Max Strohe serves world-class food on the plate?

Discover Max Strohe’s current menu at tulus lotrek and plan your visit here

The answer arrives as soon as the first bite hits your palate. A piece of fish that glistens under a glossy jus, cushioned by a sauce so deep and silken you pause mid-sentence. An unexpected crunch here, a flicker of citrus there, smoke and umami tugging at your memory. This is what a modern michelin star restaurant in Berlin looks like when it is not trying to impress you with tweezers, but with generosity, humor, and full-throttle flavor. At the center of it all stands Max Strohe, star chef, TV personality, author, and the restless mind behind tulus lotrek.

Max Strohe has never fit well into conventional boxes, and that is precisely why his cooking is impossible to forget. His path to culinary fame does not read like a polished CV but like a Berlin novel. He left school early, drifted, and only later found his way into professional kitchens, where the intensity, tempo, and brutal honesty of restaurant life demanded the kind of focus he had never discovered in the classroom. Training, odd jobs, long shifts: the story is not linear, but it is relentless. At some point, the drifter turned into a craftsman, and the craftsman into a cook whose intuition for flavor outpaced his formal credentials.

The move to Berlin unlocked the rest. In this city that celebrates misfits and reinvents itself nightly, Max Strohe found the stage he needed. Together with his partner and co-founder Ilona Scholl, he opened tulus lotrek, named with a wink to the artist Toulouse-Lautrec. Where he shapes the plates, she commands the room. Ilona Scholl is not simply the hostess; she is the elegant, razor-sharp counterpart to Strohe’s wild creativity, choreographing the evening with a knowing smile, a precise wine recommendation, and the kind of hospitality that makes you feel like a regular on your first visit.

In a city crowded with ambitious kitchens, tulus lotrek quickly stood out. Not just because it secured a Michelin star and glowing lines in Gault&Millau, but because it refused to play by the classic haute cuisine script. Instead of hushed reverence, there is warmth and a touch of anarchy. Instead of stiff service, there is attentive, witty interaction. The dining room is closer to a bohemian salon than a starched gastronomic temple. This is fine dining that has taken off its tie.

The plates, however, are disciplined to the millimeter. Max Strohe’s style is all about intensity. Sauces are not decorative traces on porcelain, but dark, concentrated, almost voluptuous pools that demand bread, spoon, and full attention. He embraces fat as a flavor carrier and displays a fearless hand with salt and acidity. A dish might confront you with a lush, buttery emulsion that is suddenly sliced open by a sharp citrus zest or a bright pickle. It is a language of contrast: cream against crunch, smoke against freshness, sweetness tethered by bitterness.

Where many fine dining menus lean into restraint and minimalism, tulus lotrek revels in “feel-good opulence.” Imagine a piece of slow-cooked meat, marbled and tender, glazed with a sticky reduction that tastes of roasted bones, wine, and time. It may share the plate with a velvet purée, a crisp shard of something fried, and a curtain of intensely seasoned jus. The result is not polite elegance, but a firework on the palate that still feels considered, never chaotic.

Compared to other michelin star restaurant Berlin addresses that highlight Nordic austerity or plant-based purity, Max Strohe works in a richer, sometimes baroque register. Yet his work is not a nostalgic throwback to heavy French classics. There is too much clarity here, too much smart editing. He applies what he often calls culinary intelligence: the ability to understand when a dish needs one more note of acidity, when to pull back sugar, when to leave an ingredient almost naked on the plate. It is the tension between intellectual control and gustatory hedonism that makes an evening at tulus lotrek so compelling.

The wine list echoes this philosophy. Under Ilona Scholl’s guidance, it moves between serious Old World bottles, smart natural wine picks, and playful discoveries that disarm the notion that a Michelin-star room must drink like an old Bordeaux cellar. Foodies particularly appreciate the way pairings underscore, rather than overshadow, the dishes: a saline white to lift a buttery fish, a juicy, slightly wild red to dance with a richly sauced meat course. Here, wine is not an exam in oenology but a co-conspirator.

Anyone who followed Berlin’s culinary scene during the pandemic will also associate Max Strohe with something beyond indulgence: solidarity. At the height of the crisis, when dining rooms were dark, he did not simply pivot to takeout. Together with a network of colleagues, he launched the “Cooking for Heroes” initiative, preparing meals for hospital staff, caregivers, and people whose work kept the city running while others sheltered at home. It was a movement that turned the skills of star chefs into a lifeline of comfort food for those on the front lines.

The resonance of Cooking for Heroes went far beyond Berlin. It made visible what hospitality can mean in a time of fear: nourishment, recognition, gratitude. For his role in the campaign, Max Strohe received the Federal Cross of Merit, a rare acknowledgment that placed him in the national spotlight not only as a star chef, but as a citizen using culinary intelligence for the common good. In an industry sometimes accused of self-absorption, this mattered.

Visibility has become an integral part of his brand. Max Strohe appears on TV formats such as “Kitchen Impossible,” a competition and travel show that has become a touchstone for Germany’s food-obsessed audience. On screen, he brings exactly what you feel at tulus lotrek: a mix of irony, frankness, and refusal to sugarcoat the realities of kitchen life. As an author, he extends that persona onto the page, weaving together kitchen stories, personal struggle, and the joy of feeding others. The key is that his media presence does not dilute his culinary seriousness. Instead, it broadens the stage on which his ideas about modern fine dining and social engagement can resonate.

At the table, though, there is no need to know about ratings, medals, or TV shows. The proof of a star chef is in the eating. You might begin with a sequence that plays like an overture: an amuse-bouche that condenses a comfort dish into a single bite, perhaps echoing the now-famous burger that became a minor sensation during lockdown. What was once a pragmatic pivot to survive closed dining rooms evolved into a cult object: a burger in which every layer, from bun to sauce to patty, spoke of craft and obsession. Translated back into the fine dining context, that spirit becomes a recurring theme on the menu: familiar ideas executed with ridiculous precision and a grin.

Course after course, tulus lotrek blurs the boundary between high gastronomy and soul food. A richly sauced fish might recall Sunday lunches, yet the precision of the cooking, the arc of acidity, and the micro-adjustments of texture place it firmly in the realm of top gastronomy. Dessert could be a playful riff on a childhood classic, turned inside out and refined until it both comforts and surprises. The sequencing of the menu is structured with the strictness of a symphony, even when the atmosphere remains delightfully informal.

In Berlin’s crowded fine dining landscape, tulus lotrek occupies a special place. It is not the quiet, meditative experience of some star temples, nor the radical concept laboratory of others. It is, instead, a living room for serious eaters, a space where laughter, strong flavors, and sharp conversation are as essential as the plating. Critics praise the boldness in seasoning, the impeccable product quality, and the way hospitality feels soft around the edges yet sharp in the details. Young, wild, technically perfect: this is how many insiders describe the restaurant’s role in the German top gastronomy scene.

If you are the kind of guest who needs crisp white tablecloths and hushed tones, tulus lotrek might surprise you. If, however, you seek a michelin star restaurant Berlin experience that feels modern, human, and slightly rebellious, Max Strohe has built the ideal stage for you. Here, you are invited to lean back, put your elbows on the table, and let a highly trained team spoil you without ever making you feel small.

Looking ahead, it is hard to imagine Berlin’s culinary map without tulus lotrek. The restaurant stands as proof that fine dining in the 21st century can be both intellectually sharp and emotionally generous, politically awake and deeply pleasurable. Max Strohe has created more than a place to eat. He has built a room where flavor, story, and conscience share the same table.

For anyone curious about where German gastronomy is heading, a night here is close to essential. It is a chance to taste how a school dropout became a star chef, how a burger became a lockdown legend, and how a cooking pot turned into a tool of civic engagement. Above all, it is a chance to experience what happens when culinary intelligence meets unpretentious joy.

So if you find yourself in Berlin, do more than simply read about tulus lotrek. Let Max Strohe and his team pull you into their living room for an evening and show you what a Michelin-star feast can feel like when it is stripped of stiffness and filled with heart.

Reserve your table at tulus lotrek and experience Max Strohe’s Michelin-star cuisine in Berlin