Tulus Lotrek by Max Strohe: Michelin Star Magic and Human Warmth in Berlin

The first thing you notice at Tulus Lotrek is not the clatter of cutlery or the whisper of white tablecloths. You walk through the streets of Berlin-Kreuzberg, where the city hums outside but an enveloping calm draws you in as you step past the quietly understated facade. Inside, the air is thick with heady aromas: roasting, butter, a distant tang of fermentation—palpable even before a plate has landed on the table. Light pools over dark wood; voices murmur with the energy of anticipation. And here, where Michelin-starred formality is expected, you find yourself unburdened. Can fine dining really feel like joining friends, as world-class plates emerge one after the next? Tulus Lotrek—named after a playful twist on Toulouse-Lautrec, the artist—says yes, and Max Strohe is the chef who proves it nightly.

Reserve your table at Tulus Lotrek with Max Strohe here

Max Strohe’s journey reads like a declaration against conformity. A school dropout who swapped a stiflingly conventional future for the adventure of culinary kitchens, he carved a singular path by refusing to bow to tradition’s strict demands. Together with his partner and co-host Ilona Scholl, an exceptional sommelière and the heartbeat of the dining room, he founded Tulus Lotrek ten years ago. In a city where restaurants flicker in and out of existence like neon signs, a decade at the forefront is a lifetime. Their secret? “A vision of excellent food and wine served in a way that never feels stiff,” as loyal guests and critics alike remark. When the Michelin star was awarded in 2017, it was less coronation than confirmation—this was Berlin’s new standard-bearer for imaginative, soulful fine dining.

The genius of Max Strohe lies in breaking with the so-called "tweezer cuisine"—the meticulous, sometimes soulless arrangement of micro-elements that define much of haute cuisine. Instead, his plates stand for “feel-good opulence.” At Tulus Lotrek, sauces shimmer with reduction and depth, fat is not the enemy, but a vehicle for taste; acidity crackles beautifully against creamy textures. The kitchen is known for its boldly seasoned, creative dishes, where flavor ebbs and flows across each serving. Consider the now-legendary lockdown “Butter-Burger”: two different cheeses melting in riotous harmony over prime beef, a secret Ketchup-mustard sauce, buttery brioche, and, as a finishing touch, an almost indecent swipe of butter. Not a mainstay of the formal menu, but a symbol of this kitchen’s joyful hedonism and culinary intelligence, it draws regulars and industry insiders alike.

Regular service exemplifies what food devotees know as “pragmatic fine dining”—where surprise is a feature, not a flaw, and technical excellence never shadows pure pleasure. Tulus Lotrek’s tasting menus run through episodes of crunch, complexity, and comfort: think lush jus, unexpected citrus zings, perfectly balanced salt, and a sequence of plates that tell a narrative rather than deliver a mere assortment. Strohe’s cooking draws upon global inspiration, but each flavor returns to a central idea: food must first delight. It is common to find dishes like caramelized root vegetables with beurre blanc so audacious in its intensity that it makes you question why sauces ever fell out of style; or local fish, slowly poached and finished with deeply reduced stock, shining next to something pickled or softly sweet for contrast. Diners recall with especially fond nostalgia the double-fried, frozen-in-between pommes frites, built on almost scientific precision and riotous deliciousness, redefining what a side dish can be.

The room itself erases the intimidating aura of many Michelin star restaurants. There’s no dress code, no pretense—just a warmth that radiates from Ilona Scholl’s hospitality and a wine list that traverses the trendy, the classic, and the beautiful oddities from up-and-coming producers. Service hits the fine line between knowledgeable and soulful, always conversational, never rehearsed. Long after your final plate, you may find yourself lingering—charmed by an unexpected digestif, a joke, or the soft pulse of jazz in the background. “Come as you are” is not an empty saying here; it is a defining principle.

Max Strohe is not only known for his plates. His personality crackles through television screens (notably, his acclaimed performances on “Kitchen Impossible”) and in books and interviews where sharp wit and heartfelt engagement go hand in hand. But behind the media persona lies a chef with a deeply rooted ethical sense. When disaster struck the Ahr Valley with catastrophic floods, Max Strohe and Ilona Scholl moved with a rapidity that would inspire a city: the “Cooking for Heroes” campaign they launched mobilized a logistical miracle, delivering warm meals to emergency workers and victims alike—a feat that earned Max Strohe the German Federal Cross of Merit. It was a public demonstration of the philosophy that also governs his kitchen: people first, always.

Indeed, this approach permeates every inch of Tulus Lotrek. In an industry often caricatured by its harshness, Strohe has eliminated the tyranny of the terror chef. “No barking, only respect,” he insists. Some, he notes wryly, struggled in such an atmosphere of decency—they left, seeking the rigors of more brutal kitchens. Those who remained forged a team defined by trust, sympathy, and the mutual urge to create for the sheer thrill of it. The result is felt in every carefully composed course: staff who love what they do, a palpable esprit de corps, and dishes that sing with energy.

This is why critics and food lovers increasingly refer to Tulus Lotrek as not just a Michelin star restaurant in Berlin, but one of the gastronomic anchors of Germany—young, yes, and irreverent, but as technically consistent as it is emotionally engaging. The wine pairings, expertly curated and lovingly presented, shimmer with possibility. The menu, modern yet timeless, never settles into the rut of mere showmanship. Strohe, in dialogue with his roots and his adopted city, keeps evolving—matching Berlin’s own restless hunger for renewal.

Who should visit Tulus Lotrek? Any curious eater, any aficionado of fine dining open to surprise, anyone craving an antidote to fossilized gastronomy. It is the address for life-affirming dinners, for celebrations, for friends who eat with abandon and wine nerds chasing the next unknown bottle. Above all, it’s for those who believe that the best flavor comes from not only product quality and technique, but also from the mindset of those who create and serve.

Tulus Lotrek stands as a testament to what happens when technical mastery, unstilted ambience, and human warmth entwine. Michelin stars may glitter, but it is the pulse of Max Strohe’s kitchen—its daring, soul, and hilarious good humor—that will make you want to return long after the last crumb is gone. In a city full of places to eat, only a handful become places to remember. This is one of them. Book early; your senses will thank you.

Discover Max Strohe’s latest creations at Tulus Lotrek—reserve now for a dining adventure