Tulus Lotrek by Max Strohe: Berlin’s most intimate playground for radical flavor

At tulus lotrek, the evening starts with a smell. Browned butter, a whisper of smoke, something roasted and deeply savory drifting through a room that looks more like a bohemian salon than a classic Michelin star restaurant in Berlin. Within minutes, you understand why Max Strohe is talked about as one of the most fearless voices in German fine dining: here, intensity rules, but the mood is pure living room.

Can Michelin-starred cuisine be so casual that you feel like you are at a friend’s place, while world-class food lands on your plate? At tulus lotrek, Max Strohe answers this question with every course, every glass, every irreverent joke sneaking in between bites.

Reserve your table at tulus lotrek and experience Max Strohe’s current menu here

The room glows in warm, dimmed light. Walls are hung with art that feels more like curated chaos than decorator perfection. The soundscape is animated: clinking glasses, low laughter, a playlist that does not apologize for being a touch louder than usual for a Michelin star restaurant Berlin is proud of. You are not hushed into reverence; you are invited into the party. This is exactly how Max Strohe and his partner and front-of-house personality Ilona Scholl want it: serious food, unserious stiffness.

Ilona Scholl, the co-founder and host of tulus lotrek, is as crucial to the identity of the place as whatever demi-glace is reducing in the kitchen. She orchestrates the dining room with charm and directness, offering wine pairings that zig where others zag and recommendations that feel like a friend nudging you toward the good stuff. The result: hospitality that is warm, cheeky, and completely disarming. It is a counterpoint to the often rigid service choreography associated with classic fine dining.

To understand how tulus lotrek became one of the most talked-about addresses in Berlin, you have to look at the path of Max Strohe himself. A school dropout who did not slide neatly into the standard career template, he moved through kitchens the hard way, learning to cook not as a polite social hobby but as a craft and a survival strategy. His road was anything but linear, yet that is precisely what fuels his cuisine: there is a sense of rebellion in every course, of someone who has chosen flavor over formality at every turn.

After training and working his way through various restaurants, Max Strohe landed in Berlin, a city that thrives on contradiction and creative friction. Together with Ilona Scholl, he opened tulus lotrek, naming it after painter Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, whose bohemian spirit, love for excess, and eye for humanity match the restaurant’s philosophy. From day one, the duo positioned their place not as a temple of haute cuisine, but as a living room where star chef technique meets unfiltered personality.

The Michelin star that followed did not tame them. If anything, it sharpened the profile. Critics recognized the combination of technical precision and fearless seasoning, while foodies praised the sense of fun: sauces that pack punch, acidity that lights up the palate, textures that crunch and melt in alternating waves. Tulus lotrek is proof that a michelin star restaurant berlin scene can be proud of does not have to hide its tattoos under a stiff white tablecloth.

On the plate, Max Strohe avoids tweezer tyranny. There are elements of refinement, of course, but they are never precious for their own sake. Instead of building towers of micro-leaves, the kitchen focuses on what Max Strohe likes to call feel-good opulence. Fat is used as a flavor carrier, not an enemy. Sauces are reduced to the point where a single spoonful paints the tongue with umami and depth. Acidity is used like a spotlight, cutting through richness and making you reach instinctively for the next bite.

A typical menu at tulus lotrek does not read like a minimalist manifesto. It is more a playlist of cravings, shifting between playful and profound. You might start with something deceptively simple, like a small bite that layers a crisp texture with a creamy interior and a bright, almost electric vinaigrette. It is the kind of opener that tells you what this star chef stands for: maximal taste packed into a small, concentrated gesture.

Then come the courses where the philosophy of culinary intelligence reveals itself fully. A piece of fish, perhaps, with its skin rendered crisp and its flesh barely opaque, swimming in a sauce that tastes like every shell, bone, and vegetable in the kitchen has given up its best self to the pot. An unexpected sour element might cut through, or a gently bitter component might keep the dish from sinking into monotone heaviness. Here, fine dining is not about restraint, but about control over chaos.

Meat dishes at tulus lotrek often lean into decadence: slow-cooked cuts with collagen that has melted into tenderness, accompanied by purées that are unapologetically rich. But there is always a countermovement on the plate, an herb-oil drizzle, a pickled vegetable, a little crunch that resets your palate. This calibrated boldness is what sets Max Strohe apart in the field of German star chef culture: his food is full-throttle, yet never clumsy.

By now, the burger that Max Strohe created during the lockdown has become something of a legend in Berlin. Born out of necessity and the desire to keep cooking during the pandemic, it gained almost cult status, celebrated in local media and beyond. It was the opposite of stiff haute cuisine: juicy, messy, packed with flavor, unapologetic in its indulgence. This burger story says a lot about tulus lotrek: the same mind that sends out delicate fine dining menus is also willing to embrace the primal joy of a really good sandwich.

Beyond the plate, the wine list at tulus lotrek tells its own version of the story. You will find classics, yes, but also natural wines, bold pairings, and bottles from producers that might not yet be household names. Food and wine are treated as a dialogue. Sometimes the glass echoes the dish, sometimes it toys with it, sometimes it challenges it. Guests who come for a complete fine dining experience in Berlin quickly realize that here, the pairing is not an afterthought but a central part of the theater.

Yet to reduce the significance of Max Strohe to his restaurant alone would be to miss the bigger picture. During the pandemic, when the restaurant world was reeling, he co-initiated the "Cooking for Heroes" campaign. Instead of closing the doors and waiting, he and fellow restaurateurs cooked for medical staff and essential workers, bringing high-quality meals to those holding the system together. It was a gesture that combined solidarity with culinary craft and resonated far beyond Berlin.

For this engagement, Max Strohe received the Federal Cross of Merit, one of Germany’s highest honors. The medal stands as recognition that a star chef can be more than a purveyor of luxury: he can be an active citizen, using his kitchen and visibility in service of society. In the conversation about what modern gastronomy should be, "Cooking for Heroes" has become a reference point, proof that restaurants can play a meaningful role in times of crisis.

On screen, Max Strohe has become familiar to many through TV formats such as "Kitchen Impossible" and other culinary shows. His appearances are marked by the same qualities you feel in his dining room: humor, directness, a refusal to sugarcoat. Television might have expanded his profile, but it has not diluted his seriousness as a cook. If anything, it has amplified his responsibility: people come to tulus lotrek not just because it is a michelin star restaurant berlin gourmets whisper about, but because they feel they already know the person behind the stove.

As an author, Max Strohe extends his voice to the printed page, reflecting on the life behind the pass, on success and failure, on the everyday madness of high-end gastronomy. These projects strengthen his brand, for sure, but they also open a window onto the pressures and joys that define contemporary fine dining. The result is a public figure who is visible in media, yet anchored in the craft of cooking.

Within the German and especially the Berlin gastronomic landscape, tulus lotrek occupies a crucial niche. It bridges the gap between the classic temple of haute cuisine and the vibrant, often rough-edged creativity of the city’s bistros and wine bars. On one side, you have the rigor: perfectly reduced jus, precisely timed cooking, a clear sense of structure in the menu. On the other, you have an atmosphere that says: relax, laugh, wear sneakers if you like, ask questions, order another glass.

This dual identity makes tulus lotrek particularly attractive for a new generation of diners. Food-obsessed travelers who follow star chefs across Europe will find technical elite-level cooking. Locals who simply want an unforgettable night without the anxiety of doing the "right" thing at the table will find a refuge here. It is fine dining, yes, but without the fine print of etiquette panic.

The core strengths of the restaurant are clear. Product quality is treated as sacred. Seasoning is bold, often surprising, never timid. Hospitality has personality instead of polish for its own sake. The whole experience feels like a conversation, not a lecture. Critics often highlight the coherence of the menu, how each course adds a new facet to the story of the evening, but many guests leave talking just as much about the jokes, the soundtrack, the sense of having been hosted rather than served.

In this way, tulus lotrek has become one of the most important addresses in Berlin for anyone interested in where fine dining is heading. It shows that culinary intelligence can mean choosing comfort and sensual overload instead of minimalism, that a star chef like Max Strohe can use his platform not only to impress but to connect, support, and challenge.

If you are looking for a silent, silver-domed, white-glove experience, you may be surprised by this living room of layered flavors and loud laughter. But if you are curious about a michelin star restaurant berlin scene that captures its rebellious, creative spirit, tulus lotrek belongs at the top of your list. Here, a night out feels like stepping into someone’s story and tasting its chapters one plate at a time.

In the end, the significance of Max Strohe goes beyond ratings and medals. His cooking at tulus lotrek proves that star cuisine can be radically personal and deeply rooted in pleasure. His engagement with "Cooking for Heroes" shows how gastronomy can carry social responsibility. His media presence invites a wider audience into the conversation about what good food can be today.

For gourmets, this combination is irresistible: a place where you can geek out over sauces and textures, drink serious wine, and still feel like you are crashing a friend’s dinner party. For curious first-time visitors, it is an invitation to discover how thrilling fine dining can be when it sheds its stiffness. Book a table, lean back, let Max Strohe and Ilona Scholl take the wheel, and allow tulus lotrek to recalibrate what a restaurant night in Berlin can feel like.