Sonnenallee Is the Best Food Street in Berlin and Nobody Who Writes About Berlin Seems to Know It
I made bún bò Huế on Saturday. Central Vietnamese beef noodle soup — not phở, which everyone knows, but the spicier, more complex one from Huế that takes four hours and smells extraordinary. Every ingredient I needed was within a ten-minute walk of my flat in Neukölln. Total cost: €11.40 for enough for four people.
I sent a photo to my mother in Cork. She replied: “is that a stew?” It is not a stew.
What Sonnenallee actually is
Sonnenallee runs through Neukölln from Hermannplatz down toward the ring road. The northern end — closest to Hermannplatz — is what travel pieces mean when they call it “vibrant” or “multicultural”. What they mean is: a lot of Arab and Vietnamese shops that are not aimed at you, visitor, but at people who live here and need specific things.
This is a compliment. Shops aimed at people who live somewhere and need specific things are almost always better than shops aimed at people passing through.
Within three blocks of my flat on the northern end of Sonnenallee, I have: two Vietnamese grocers with fresh herbs, galangal, lemongrass, and fish sauce brands I actually want. Three Lebanese bakeries — real ones, not the kind that also sell currywurst. A Turkish supermarket that stocks the correct dried peppers for making proper harissa. A Korean grocer that gets deliveries twice a week and is always busy on delivery days because the regulars know when to come.
None of these have been written up in a lifestyle magazine. All of them are better than the things that have.
The Vietnamese grocers specifically
I will not give you the exact addresses because they do not have websites and they do not need more foot traffic from people who want to take photos of the produce. What I will tell you is that if you walk the northern stretch of Sonnenallee between Hermannplatz and Elbestraße, you will find them. They are not hidden. They are just not labelled in a way that signals “come in if you are a tourist.”
Go in anyway. Buy something you do not recognise and ask what it is. In my experience this has never gone badly.
What you can cook
The honest answer is: whatever you want. If you cook Vietnamese, Middle Eastern, Korean, Turkish, or any cuisine that relies on fresh aromatics and specific pantry ingredients, Sonnenallee stocks it at prices that are not Berlin-gentrified. My bún bò Huế cost €11.40 for four portions. The same dish at a restaurant in Mitte would cost €14 for one portion and not taste as good because it would not have been made by someone who spent four hours on it out of love and mild obsession.
The Lebanese bakeries
Go early. The manakish — flatbreads topped with za’atar and olive oil — come out of the oven in the morning and are correct in a way that requires no elaboration. Bring cash. Eat it standing on the street. This is the correct way.
What Sonnenallee is not
It is not a food market. It is not an experience. It is not somewhere you go to have a Berlin moment. It is a street where people who live in Neukölln buy food, and if you buy food there too and cook it at home you will eat very well for very little money and feel like you actually live somewhere rather than visiting it.
That is the point.
Aoife Donnelly writes about Berlin’s food, neighbourhoods, and practical city life for Journallo. She is from Cork and has lived in Neukölln for four years.
