Berlin Reified | Food, design and life in Berlin

Picking strawberries at Vierfelderhof

We had the happiest time picking strawberries at Vierfelderhof.

It took us less than forty-five minutes to get there on the bus from Schöneberg (the X34 from Zoo Station is speed itself) and the farm is within the city limits. But following the poppy-lined country road to the farm made me feel I was in another world.

Founded two years ago, Vierfelderhof has just completed the transition process to becoming a certified organic farm. Their focus is the farm as a place to learn about food, and they host regular events for preschoolers and schoolchildren. They also run Berlin's first Bauernhofkita (or farm preschool).

Once inside, a man pointed us to the fields. We stopped to admire the glossy flocks of Bleus and Marans (both dual-purpose breeds of chickens) before crossing the meadows to the strawberries.

The fields went on forever, and on that Tuesday, we had them mostly to ourselves.

What is that treasure-hunt fever that comes over you in a field of ripe fruit? I wouldn't say that I needed to take home four kilograms of red berries, but I am so glad to have them. (If you're curious, I made Rumtopf, two batches of Christine Ferber's strawberry jam, and of course we ate at least a kilo out of hand.)

It was magical to be there on such a quiet day, but if you fancy a little more action, Vierfelderhof is hosting a strawberry festival this weekend with crafts, strawberry snacks in the cafe and of course all the berries your little hands can gather.

Vierfelderhof, Straße 264 Nr. 33, Berlin-Spandau/Gatow (map)
During strawberry season (through the end of June) you can pick strawberries every day from 1pm-5pm. Organic strawberries are 7 EUR/kilogram.

The cafe and farm shop are open Wednesday-Sunday from 10am-6pm. Other events take place through the year: find an overview here.

On the stairs in Weinbergspark

We were at the foot of the stairs eating rhubarb ice cream and I admired these colors and light so much.

Field Notes (Elderflowers)

While I'm waiting for my dress to dry so I can leave for a party, I thought I'd tell you about collecting elderflowers. I've been watching the heads of elderflower go heavier and whiter as I cycle through the park. Last night after dinner I drank a cup of spring tea, gathered my equipment, then left. As I glanced back at the clock I heard the bells tolling 9 o'clock.

There wasn't actually much in the way of equipment. I prefer to remain hazy on the ins and outs of foraging regulations, and was glad for the capacious market basket I've borrowed from a friend.

The park was mostly empty when I entered, with just a few joggers, and some young people playing pétanque.

I quickly spotted my quarry, but the elderflower bush by the path had been stripped almost bare of blossoms, sending a ripple of worry through me.

But as soon as I pressed onwards, I was hopeful again. The elders dotting the hillside were frothy with creamy blossoms.

Far from being too late, many of the sprays were still mere buds. Others were already showering their dainty pale pollen.

My bowl full and a wind whipping up, I thought it was time to return home.

Then I spotted the white pinpricks amongst the distant green, and filled my bowl a little more.

My mission accomplished, I had to stop and admire the bowl's contents.

The light was failing when I finally turned home.

When I got home, David was just taking the sugar syrup off the stove, and as it cooled, I snipped the flowers into a bowl. By ten o'clock, I was finished. What beauty one can make in an hour!