Trettl meets Tim Raue

Roland Trettl in Germany

In his former life, the Michelin-starred chef Tim Raue could be found dishing out beatings in a Berlin gang, but he has long since been specialising in highly aromatic dishes – much to the delight of all gourmets.

Tim Raue is a man who needs no introduction, for he has become somewhat of a media star, not least because of his unorthodox background: abusive father, uncaring mother... and emotional refuge in a Turkish street gang in Berlin-Kreuzberg, where turf wars and baseball bats were the order of the day. These ingredients certainly make for a good story. But there's one small problem: They don't really interest me. All I'm interested in is:

Can Tim Raue cook? So far, professional critics have answered this question with a "yes", although the volume of their replies differs vastly. In other words: A solitary star from Michelin, but a massive 19 points from Gault Millau. These are indeed worlds apart.

But when it comes to the location of Tim Raue's restaurant, worlds actually collide: the backyard of a gallery complex, on the outskirts of Berlin's Kreuzberg district, next to the Springer-Verlag publishing house and across from the left-wing daily newspaper "taz". Or, more precisely, Rudi Dutschke Straße! Bold, contrasting and rich in history: That's Berlin in a nutshell – and the wild Tim Raue can be found right at its core. Admittedly, I pictured him very differently, as a great chef, of course, but perhaps a little disagreeable. A mixture of Rumpelstiltskin and bad boy, a dangerous combination of thrasher and thrashed.

But Mr Raue caught me completely off-guard – by unexpectedly turning up at Hangar-7 long before our appointment in Berlin, introducing himself with the utmost courtesy and explaining that he wished to check the kitchen facilities, dishes and methods in advance of his guest chef appearance. And that's when I suddenly saw a completely different combination: one of cordiality, respect and maximum professionalism. Tim Raue's concept is well-known.

Sweet, sour and spicy are the main weapons in all his dishes. He strives to surprise and – in his own words – create "dancing ants on the palate". Tim's aim is to combine the celebration of Japanese cuisine with the enormous aromatic force of the Thais and the culinary history of China, which dates back more than 3,000 years. But he also stays true to his own Western origins. This concept can be demonstrated by Tim's Peking duck in just three steps.

First, there is the breast – with spice waffles and apple sauce that are reminiscent of a German winter but which are accompanied by a very Chinese jus of duck feet. Then, a soup of heart, lung and stomach, with winter melon and bamboo shoots. And finally, a European aspect in the form of duck liver, prepared as a parfait and mousse, and complemented with "crispy" skin. This Central European duck interpretation, combined with the exotic aromas of Peking duck, couldn't be more outlandish.

One thing is certainly true, this man is a synthesis of the arts: Tim, who doesn't have a driving licence, who pays an afternoon visit to his favourite Chinese restaurant on Kantstraße more than 150 times a year, and who sometimes has an explosive temper in the kitchen but always manages to bring himself under control again.

So, coming back to my initial question: Yes, Tim Raue can cook. And how! Powerfully seasoned to taste, and pushing all boundaries to the absolute limit. With full, sensuous notes and no fear of anything. This man is a true warrior who craves the sound of bullets whizzing by. Tim is someone whom we should probably be scared of – but only in his former life on the streets.