Diekmann, Charlottenburg

I’m excited to get back in the reviewing saddle after a rather lengthy hiatus. Time to lift my palate out of its state of hibernation. I’ve come to Diekmann to do just that, a self-proclaimed chic, unpretentious German restaurant; not to be confused with Deichmann the affordable German shoe shop.

It’s a Friday evening, 19.45 on the hottest day of the year so far. Despite this, I take an indoor table. I can’t abide dining roadside. On entering, I see unexpected baskets of oysters that make me think I’ve come to exactly the right place. This is a solo outing and I’m enjoying the idea of pleasing no-one but myself. I order a French 75. Strong, cold, decadent, appealingly presented in a heavy ribbed coupe. Terrific start.

The restaurant is rather quiet. I suspect most Berliners are lakeside today, sunning their bits and drinking tepid beers from a cooler bag. In here the atmosphere is calm. The unintrusive background music is pleasant, and I’m starting feel the little thrill that comes from looking at a menu full of the unknown. There is a chef’s menu with optional with wine pairings but today, like most days, I’m loathe to be led. 

The kleine Austernreise sounds like fun, and less than five minutes later, the journey begins. I’m given an Irish rock oyster, a fine de claire, a tsarskaya and a wild Bio one, all served on crushed ice with lemon and splendid strands of bladderwrack. For reasons I don’t think about until much later, I instinctively analyse and rank them by meaty density and saltiness. My waiter feigns interest as I report that the Irish is my winner, with the fine de claire a close second. I note that he looks to be dressed for a fun-run. I could happily take a dozen more Irish, but time to move on. He’s brought a bread-basket and a little Weck glass filled with a cold cucumber soup. It’s tangy, very tasty and cools me as I gulp it down.   

Before long, I’m feeling the dilatory effect of the cocktail in my brain. And I think this is probably a good thing. It’s allowing me to process the strangeness of the bread selection more optimistically that I otherwise might. I have three varieties to try. The first one seems very much like it’s come from Rewe, white, uninteresting geschnittenes Brot. OK sure, perhaps the next one will give me the yeasty, lactic moreishness I’m prejudiciously expecting. Oh dear….now this is just weird. Not bread, so much as unsweetened fairy cake. It’s a buttery, finely crumbed sponge with no sugar and only a tiny suggestion of salt. With a good layer of butter it’s almost enjoyable, but no, not quite. Lastly, I have some cubes of pumpernickel bread, attractively laminated with something orange and reminiscent of Loacker wafer biscuits. Dark, caramelly sweet. Sure to please some, and points for creativity, but not what I want. I return to the bland normality of Rewe basic white.

Wine time. I need a crisp white to pair with the coming duck liver parfait. I ask the very lovely waitress to help me decide between a Sancerre (Chateau la Rabotine, 2024) and a dry Riesling (Weingut Prinz). She lets me sample both, something I always appreciate. In this heat, there’s no time for fruit. And this Sancerre is….oceanic! No competition.

The parfait is served German style. A Leberkäse-like slab of blush pink foie on top of a lightly toasted slice of brioche. Too lightly toasted, in fact. I think this would have benefitted from a little more crunch. Silky pâté on structurally unsound white bread is giving me baby-food vibes. But this is my only criticism. Eaten with the slightly chilli-spiced apricot marmalade and a squiggle of roasted almond butter, this is dreamy and delicious. I demolish the lot.

I’m feeling quite relaxed and am enjoying some of the décor, while I await the main event. There’s an abundance of noble-looking wood about the place; a few eye-catching prints on the walls. Overall, it’s all very comfortable and isn’t turning me off by trying too hard. The same can be said of the next course. I’ve decided to take a punt on chicken…..with ratatouille? Not exactly one of my go-to dishes. But there’s plenty to get excited about here. The thyme sauce is punchy and demands attention, by which I mean absolutely everything must be dipped in it. The gnocchi are very light, not in the least bit doughy or chewy. I’ve got a crispy baby chicken breast and drumstick. And wow, this is good. Beneath crispy, golden skin, this chicken is juicy and has real flavour that makes this feel wholesome. It’s really all I can do not to pick up the drumstick with hands and suck the meat off the bone. I notice a crispy little something en croûte. My tongue doesn’t quite know what to make if it. It’s intensely savoury and eats well with the calming gnocchi. But the star of the show has to be the ratatouille. Not something I thought I’d ever say or write. It’s crunchy, in no way slimy (as it often appears to me) and takes me deep into the tomatoverse. Remarkable.

The waitress has left me to my own devices for a while, giving me time to digest and pick out some form of dessert. For a moment, I consider the cheese plate before ultimately plumping for a lemon tarte with blueberry sorbet. I’m quite taken by the idea of a 2015 Riesling Auslese (from previously spurned Weingut Prinz), so I order that too.

Let’s start with the tarte, which to my surprise is served with German sour cherries and vanilla sauce; essentially uninvited Rote Grütze. OK….if we must. The pastry is a little suspect; and while the lemon custard is fine, it’s not making me want more. Something is missing, a vital, astringent herb or perhaps some treacly depth. All rather 1D. The sorbet is far better. It’s smooth and surprisingly subtly flavoured despite its intense beetroot-like colour. The dessert wine is another story altogether. A gorgeous amber elixir, not sweet but intensely fruity. Lemony on my tongue with some lively sherbet. Heaven.

After a quick hit of strong coffee, I close the proceedings at a little over the two-hour mark. I enjoyed this evening. A satisfying restart.

My final tally

Atmosphere 7/10

Food & Drink quality 6.5/10

Service 8/10 

Value for money 7/10

7.1/10

“Surprises may be in store; say oui to ratatouille; bring your own sourdough”