Old-Berlin Wirtshaus on Leuschnerdamm that boils the menu down to one thing: crisp roast chicken from milk-fed poultry, pale tender meat under skin that really crackles.
With potato or cabbage salad, a beer, eaten with your hands. High ceilings, dark wood, a rustic room that has barely shifted in decades. Above the bar hangs a reply letter from John F. Kennedy, politely declining an invitation from the publican family — long since part of the house legend. The Wall once stood five meters from the door, no more. Today Kreuzberg locals sit next to tourists at the same wooden table, pulling chicken apart by hand.
