First off, I feel like I need to apologize to all Norwegian strawberry nationalists out there, all 5 million of you.
For the rest of you, this also serves as a warning – as you will never meet a strawberry munching Norwegian not complaining about how foreign sourced strawberries doesn’t taste like the real Norwegian ones, all while taking an enormous amount of pride in the small locally grown red berries (yes, small. if they are oversized you’ll hear us complain even more about the use of greenhouses and GMO (a critique I am very much down with, i should add)), and it might not be the worst thing to be prepared for such a monologue.
But here we go : this morning I had THE BEST strawberries of my life. And they were GERMAN. They were so good, in fact, that I almost ran all the way back home in order to blog about them (slight exaggeration, but only slight).
You’ll find these sweeter than sweet, juicy little things just off that park with the water tower in Prenzlauer, just where Rykestrasse begins. If you’re a local you’ll know where, and if you’re not – it will be like going on a treasure hunt.
Just look for the red strawberry hut that is Karls, and take part of that berry proud history dating way back to 1921.
And Karl, if you are listening: you should so keep your strawberry fields forever.