The first time I noticed Tim Raue was more than ten years ago on Chef’s Table. He came across as deliberately abrasive—an image clearly sharpened for the camera, but it was without a doubt that Tim had not had an easy start to life in a tough time in East Given his upbringing in East Germany and a far-from-gentle start to life, the personality made sense
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That is why it was almost disorienting to see him years later on a press trip, dressed in a crisp shirt and tailored suit trousers, calmly explaining that he now runs 18 restaurants, including operations in nursing homes and on cruise ships. The young rebel had undeniably become a highly successful businessman.
Before dining at his two-Michelin-star restaurant, Tim Raue, I found myself genuinely curious: would the food still be punchy, confrontational, and uncompromising—or refined, balanced, and controlled to match the suit? I wasn’t even sure which version I was hoping for, or whether one was inherently better than the other.
From the moment you enter the restaurant, both identities are present. Soft, velvety chairs in muted colors, crisp white tablecloths, and playful art on the walls create a dining room that feels elegant but not stiff—refined, yet with a hint of mischief. It immediately signals that this is not a temple of classical French gastronomy, but neither is it a rule-breaking playground.
The restaurant’s culinary identity famously emerged from Raue’s travels in Southeast Asia, where vibrant colors, acidity, sweetness, and heat stood in sharp contrast to the restrained French flavors that dominated European fine dining when he opened the restaurant. That influence still defines the kitchen today.
We opted for the Kolibri x Berlin menu, a concept designed to pay homage to Berlin while incorporating Raue’s emblematic Asian flavor profile. The meal opened with eight snacks served on a single large plate, Asian-style. Cured cucumber with chili, deep-fried Jerusalem artichoke, and various pickles showcased a pleasing diversity of textures and flavors—fresh, crunchy, acidic, and gently spicy. It was an assured and confident start rather than a provocative one.
From there, the menu shifted back toward Berlin—and toward the businessman version of Tim Raue. A dish of cucumber, trout, and a generous amount of Imperial caviar made it clear that this is, first and foremost, a two-Michelin-star restaurant. It was elegant, precise, and undeniably delicious. The same could be said for the following course of pike perch with sauerkraut and huacatay from Peru: clean, balanced, and quietly complex.
So far, the rebel had remained mostly hidden. He appeared briefly with Raue’s signature dish: tempura-fried langoustine served with wasabi, mango, passion fruit, rice wine vinaigrette, and coriander. Here, the classic Southeast Asian interplay of sweet, sour, and acidity finally showed its teeth. The wasabi delivered the expected kick, but the execution remained firmly within Michelin discipline—beautifully presented, texturally perfect, and controlled.
As the menu is an homage to Berlin, it continued with KFC—Kreuzberg Fried Chicken—served as four small drumsticks, flavored with ginger and finger lime for acidity. It was enjoyable, but this was the moment where I missed a touch of recklessness. Fried chicken, after all, is a genre that welcomes excess and everything goes. A bit more spice or aggression could have turned this from a good dish into a memorable one.
The savory courses concluded with a traditional East German dish: borscht. Naturally, this version replaced long-cooked humble cuts with A5 Wagyu. The sauce was rich, the beetroot sweet and comforting, but the extremely soft texture of the Wagyu felt slightly out of place. Notably, this was also the only dish on the menu without any Asian influence, making it stand out as a pure cultural reference rather than a hybrid.
Dessert leaned fully into Asian sweetness: apricot ragout, generous caramel, and a yeast ice cream providing contrast. Before it arrived, I asked to swap the traditional sweet dessert wine for a glass of Champagne—“whatever you have open,” I said, deliberately keeping it flexible. The first sip made it clear this was no ordinary glass. Only upon a refill was it revealed to be Krug. There are not many restaurants where “whatever is open” translates to Krug, and the gesture felt like the final, subtle confirmation that Tim Raue today operates at the highest level of polished luxury. A Champagne perfectly suited to the successful businessman.
I thoroughly enjoyed my experience at Restaurant Tim Raue. At the same time, it left me wondering what the restaurant must have felt like when it first opened. Today, the waiters wear perfectly tailored blue suits with ties; the tables are immaculately dressed in white linen; the room is elegant, calm, and assured. It is obvious—and entirely expected—that the young rebel has grown up.
The menu is refined and balanced, with moments of punch appearing only selectively. The flavors remain authentically Asian in profile but softened in execution. Looking around the dining room, it is clear that the guests and the restaurant are in complete symbiosis. This is not the domain of a 25-year-old provocateur, but of a playful, highly accomplished European two-Michelin-star restaurant.
It feels less like a loss of identity and more like a natural progression. The rebellion has not disappeared— he has simply grown up which tends to soften the edges.
Practical information
Location: Berlin, Germany
Head chef: Tim Rau
Menu: 8 course tasting menu (€290)
Website: https://tim-raue.com/en/
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