Sea Menu @ Metti Una Sera A Cena, Italian Supper Club in Prenzlauer Berg

At the beginning of this month I attended a supper club for the first time: metti una sera e cena ("place one night a dinner".... ???) hosted by two Italian artists, Marco and Chiara, in the Bötzow neighbourhood.

I first heard of a private supper club a couple of years ago but without knowing such a term. In the Swiss town of Neuchâtel some friends were invited by a college colleague who threw a five-courses menu and only asked his guests for an allowance. Hearing about that i felt pity that there wasn't such a thing in my city... only to find out much later that the real underground dinners have been always taking place, simply i had not been invited to any. Now i take comfort in the fact that in order to attend one of these days' supper clubs, you don't need an invite ;). though officially you still do...

The supper clubs we are talking about today are no more secret: you get their addresses in city magazines, nationwide newspapers or social media. And they are so numerous that one can lose track of them.

The attraction is less the underground element (after all, nothing is wrong about restaurant licenses, right? ) but the prospect of an alternative dining experience when passionate private cooks perform for a bigger crowd of guests without seeking commercial intentions at first place.

Our evening at Metti was wonderful!

They host 12 people for each dinner that takes place twice a month in the hosts' studio. The improvised setting contributed to a cozy and charming atmosphere while the menu was exquisite:

1. Warm scallops salad with potatoes, fish coulis and sepia ink bread
2. Homemade ravioli with Gorgonzola and walnuts, shallot sauce
3. Homemade onion and olive oil ice cream, smoked swordfish
4. Cod with almonds gratin, pear and onion cream. Purple potato chips
5. Tiramisu

I loved courses 2, 3, and 5: sure, you can never go wrong with handmade ravioli and good cheese but at least I can never get tired of that stuff... besides, it was the first savory ice cream I ever had (being totally behind food fashion) which was exciting. Finally the Tiramisu had nothing in common with the dessert that you know - just look at the saffron threads!

Courses 1 and 4 tasted a tad too neutral but still they made up well balanced, lovely composed dishes.

Each plate was picturesque and despite of the modern interpretation of the dishes it all tasted authentic Italian.

See some pictures here as mine all failed.

When the hosts finally joined us for a chat after the last course at around 1 a.m. (after having rushed five hours in the kitchen), that was even a touching moment.

These cheerful couple put so much efforts into a dinner to make a memorable evening for their unknown guests. One can only guess: from designing a menu, to starting with preparations days before, procuring the ingredients, cooking a whole day and cleaning up the day after.

Do we ever put so much efforts when inviting friends in real life? Not really. In so far that was a heart-warming, revealing experience. You don't have to cook elaborate dishes for a happy gathering but for sure, the more love and efforts you put into an invite, the happier you will make your guests. It is simple as that.

Thank you Chiara and Marco for the dinner - wish you much joy and happy encounters in the future!

Metti Una Sera a Cena, Italian supper club in Prenzlauer Berg.
Book the next dinners via their blog.
The suggested donation depends on the menu: around 55 euro per person, including aperitif, wine pairings and coffee.

One Special Visit

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Some encounters are more touching and memorable than others.

On a crisp day in January I had the honor to meet Korean artist Sook Jin Jo. Actually it were two days, a Saturday afternoon and a Sunday morning.

New York citizen for over 20 years, she is a big fish in the art scene here as well as in Korea. Seldom did I met such a philosophically and theoretically profound person in the creative profession (being not a theory expert I deem myself competent to say it ;)). And such a humble.

In her peaceful studio and home in the heart of Chelsea, with her kitties and to some Edward Elgar, we talked about being an immigrant, of women's status in Korea of the 80ies and of today, about how her neighbourhood in NYC has changed its face over the years.

She must have a bold spirit as she has grown beyond the conditions set down by her biography - which basically were not a bed of roses: being an Asian female artist, in none of the conventional art disciplines, being progressive in a then very backward society, facing financial difficulties when settling down in this city.

And the food? We had a lot.

Bagels with salmon tatar, black kaviar, goat cream cheese and Roumanian eggplant salad that I brought from Russ & Daughters.

Steemed yam. Peanut butter ice cream with berries and biscotti.

TTeokguk, Japchae, Kimchi Jeon and of course Kimchi.

Mafalda Vintage

One of the few inhabitants I met here so far took me to Brooklyn's Smith-Street and Atlantic Avenue. With quite some efforts I figured out later that the name of the neighborhood must be Boerum Hill. The Atlantic Avenue in that section is full of glorious boutiques and antique shops. Pricey though.

And in between these I spotted the best vintage shop I've ever seen. I know how tiresome it is to name "best of"s at such frequent intervals as I have been doing lately - best food, best shopping, best arts etc... I swear that I will soon point out the not so sunny sides here to regain credibility.

The shop's name is Mafalda and it's named after the mother-in-law of the owner, Christina. Why is it unique? Every piece is chosen and presented with so much spirit and love that in your hands, it feels like an art object of its own.

The colors are vivid and the textiles in such a flawless condition that you are astonished how time could pass away without leaving any traces.

While the winter weather let me shrink back to the same gray colors for countless weeks in a row, I own a silk blouse for the next Miro- or Mondrian-visit since then. And a blazer in Yves-Klein-Blue together with a couple of flower-printed dresses (all these were on heavy sale) keep me asking: when did we ever stop wearing colors? And when will spring come along?













In such moments you bethink what's so great about vintage garments:

• It is timeless but still makes you aware of history.
• It makes you grateful to the unknown pre-wearer who has been handling the clothes so well that it still looks newly-made.
  
• It's fun to imagine at which occasions it was worn before.
  
• It allows you shopping / consuming without wasting new resources.
  
• After all, you get the best textile quality at an affordable price as clothes in the 50ies, 60ies, 70ies were meant to last a life long.

Christina told me that she bought her first vintage clothes at the age of 13. Thirteen. And she was the first person I encountered in this city talking about sustainability while packing my purchase in a simple unprinted paperbag. When I asked her if it didn't hurt to give away these treasures she revealed that the hunting part was the most fun. And the traveling involved with it in her case. How charming.

So thank you, Christina for the bargain! My pictures don't serve your place right but it was a lucky encounter.

Mafalda: 360 Atlantic Avenue Brooklyn
Subway: Hoyt St-Shermerhorn St (A, C, G)
Bergen St (F, G)
Hoyt St (2, 3)
Wed-Sat: 11:00-19:00
Sun: 12:00-18:00


Picture of Christina taken from nymag.

The People Behind Stephen Haller Gallery

In the lucky case, gifted artists are backed by wise supporters - such as gallery owner Stephen Haller, who represents a most exquisite list of contemporary American painters.

We had a nice chat together with his lovely wife Cynthia Griffin, a former documentary film maker. Cynthia told me how much she enjoyed her first stay in Berlin (her enthusiasm for Schöneberg and of course, Mitte) and the galleries near Kochstraße. How their gallery moved from SoHo into a former garage in Chelsea a couple of years ago and found a new inspiring environment - apart from the numerous young showrooms next door Annie Leibovitz owns a huge studio on the opposite site and used to drop by for lunch breaks with a dance crew. And about Linda Stojak's Catholic upbringing that might have influenced her ladies of sorrow.

The reason why the gallery takes charge of only a dozen artists is to pay full attention to each one of them, leading to close and lifelong ties.

An inconspicuously placed lyrical abstract water color alone generated exclaim in delight. Leaving me fantasizing about how many treasures these walls must have sheltered over the decades.

A truly touching video on Ronnie Landfield can be found via the gallery website. Enjoy.