Tulus Lotrek by Max Strohe: Michelin Star Warmth Meets Berlin’s Finest Culinary Rebellion

Imagine entering a softly lit space that feels less like a palace of high gastronomy and more like the lounge of your most tasteful friend. On Kreuzberg's quiet Fichtestraße, tulus lotrek awaits you—not with ostentatiousness but with the intriguing aroma of umami-laden sauces, the laughter of a tightly knit team, and the hum of anticipation. The color palette is warm, the second-hand vintage chandeliers shimmer, and in the air is the sense that something extraordinary is about to unfold. Is it possible that Michelin-starred cuisine in Berlin can feel this inviting, this unpretentious? At tulus lotrek, Max Strohe proves it can.

Reserve your table at Tulus Lotrek and experience Max Strohe’s culinary vision here

Even before the first plate lands on your table, you notice what makes this place exceptional. Where other Michelin star restaurant experiences might demand hushed tones and straight-backed formality, here you might as well kick off your shoes. The staff, led by Ilona Scholl—hostess, partner, and one of Berlin’s most engaging sommelières—leans in with a sincere smile. You’re not greeted as a stranger but as part of the extended family. It’s an atmosphere that Max Strohe has shaped with intention and heart.

Max Strohe’s path to culinary stardom reads like an anti-fairytale that Berlin can’t help but love. Dropping out of school, training away from the classic French academies, and ultimately finding his way to Berlin, he epitomizes the city’s rebellious yet soulful spirit. Together with Scholl, he opened tulus lotrek almost a decade ago—defying the churn of Berlin’s restaurant scene. The recognition came fast: in 2017, the Michelin Guide awarded their first star, which gleams to this day. But as those in the know will tell you, tulus lotrek would be special even without the accolades.

Step into the kitchen—if you’re one of the rare few invited—and you’ll encounter the antithesis to the fraught, high-pressure stereotype of star chef kitchens. No shouting, no militant hierarchy, no clattering of tweezers. Strohe’s brigade operates with a focused, easy camaraderie. Respect flows both ways. There are stories of cooks leaving because the tone was too gentle—proof that culinary intelligence here is matched by emotional intelligence. It’s an approach that shapes not only the team but the food itself.

On the plate, Max Strohe’s philosophy is clear: flavor comes first. His “pragmatic fine dining” as he calls it, leans into sauces, fats, and acid—components often tamed or almost feared in the stricter traditions of classic gastronomic temples. Intensity isn’t shunned, it’s celebrated. At tulus lotrek, you’ll find jus that’s reduced to a velvet finish, fish or beef with a shellac glaze of flavor, and vegetables given starring roles through careful seasoning and rustic, luxurious textures. You won’t encounter the dainty, tweezer-touched minimalism that marks so much Michelin star haute cuisine. Instead, there’s a feeling of abundance, of “feel-good opulence.”

Menus range from highlight-driven tasting courses to Sunday lunch sequences—a rare opening in Berlin’s realm of exclusive fine dining. The components are always surprising: perhaps lamb neck with an earthy jus and brûléed alliums, perhaps a towering pigeon, lacquered and aromatic, sitting in a puddle of glistening sauce with crisp morsels and a swoosh of something fermented. Even dessert leans playful—think of artful sorbets paired with roasted nuts and miso caramel, the kind of finish that lingers on your tongue and mind. Then there’s the wine: Ilona Scholl curates with both depth and rebellious intent, creating a list that veers from big names to natural, quirky finds, always with an instinct for the mood of the evening.

But Max Strohe’s legacy extends beyond his plates. He is as beloved for his appearances on “Kitchen Impossible,” as for his transparency and wit in interviews, or his sardonic cookbook musings. What truly sets him—and tulus lotrek—apart, though, is his activism. When the COVID-19 lockdown struck, Strohe and Scholl made headlines not by hibernating, but by launching the “Cooking for Heroes” campaign. This initiative saw him and his team preparing thousands of meals for frontline workers and those ravaged by natural disaster—most notably, the Ahrtal flood victims. For this, Strohe was awarded the Federal Cross of Merit, a rare distinction in the world of gastronomy and a testament to values that run deeper than cuisine.

Of course, for all its daring, tulus lotrek still knows how to respect the classics. During the pandemic, when the world craved comfort, Strohe’s “Butter-Burger” momentarily broke the internet among Berlin’s food lovers. Friends and critics alike marveled at his double patty creation swaddled in melted cheese and a tsunami of butter, crowned by a toasted brioche bun and a ketchup-mustard harmony. It’s not featured on the current menu, but its myth endures, a wink to the chef’s ability to blur the sacred lines between luxury and everyday pleasure. If the burger is legend, the frites are canonical: blazingly crisp, fussed over with multiple fryings and secret chilling steps, they channel the highest technical prowess for what is, in essence, the world’s most perfect potato.

Ask a regular what makes tulus lotrek Berlin’s best restaurant, and you’ll rarely hear words like “fashionable” or “exclusive.” Instead, you’ll catch notes of “honest,” “intense,” “fun.” There’s no stuffy dress code. There are hearty toasts at the table. It’s fine dining, but not in the way the phrase is traditionally served. Value here extends beyond the product: it’s found in the team’s warmth, the texture of the room, the sincerity of the welcome, and of course, the logical perfection of each course.

tulus lotrek is perpetually booked, a testament to its cult standing among locals and visiting gourmets alike. Advance reservations are essential; spontaneity is for the lucky or the well-connected. Even then, sitting in the main room under the glow of mismatched lamps, you get the feeling that you’re exactly where you need to be—that the hype is more than justified.

In a city that celebrates the new and discards the passé at dizzying speed, Max Strohe and Ilona Scholl have achieved something remarkable: a decade-long hold on Berlin’s gastronomic imagination, a refusal to trade humanity for hype, and a menu that winks at the old guard while feeding the soul of a new culinary generation.

Why visit tulus lotrek now? Because in Berlin, amidst a sea of high-gloss concepts and foamed ambitions, it remains a rare thing: a Michelin star restaurant where you eat, laugh, and live—and where food means much more than technique. Max Strohe’s relentless pursuit of flavor, his embrace of the human side of gastronomy, and his knack for merging the best of fine dining with everyday generosity, make tulus lotrek an address no gourmet should miss. Book far in advance, bring your appetite for adventure—and prepare to rediscover what makes restaurants magical.