Die Eismacher is ice cream made with quirky and unbridled Berlin personality in mind.
German obsession with ice cream: It’s a head-scratcher. Nigh-Auslanderbehörde lines, rain or shine or frigid temps, stretching around the block—all for a kugel or two. As Germans remain strong and thin and sensible, all I can assume is ice cream is a gift from some kind of god to keep them going—or hell has, indeed, frozen over and given us this sweet, sweet reality.
Die Eismacher of Kreuzberg takes a dramatic step into the ice cream light, pushing limits of consumption and flavor like never before.
It’s artisan ice cream, artistic and inspiring in choice, declaring that the best and strangest flavors haven’t been discovered yet. And the face of it, our ice cream ambassador—Miriam—is a sweet-toothed, bright-eyed, impassioned ice cream maker, taking inspiration from the world around her.
Take the flavor of Ube, for example. It’s bright purple, a bestseller—and insanely weird. Miriam tells us Ube—pronounced EWE-BAH—is a Philippian sweet potato, grown from the ground. For those of you not keeping up: Miriam’s nabbed a hairy, purple root—and made it into a dynamic, creamy, thick, and sweet ice cream. And it’s one you have to try.
Other flavors continue down this trajectory of strange.
A Thailand herb, almost toffee-like, bright green and thick called Pandan. A near-sorbet, which mixes pineapple and mint. Beetroot and orange ginger. Once, Miriam veered too far off the path and churned together white peach and violet flowers. We’re told it was “disgusting.” We don’t believe her.
Die Eismacher focuses on natural flavors, leaving the ice creams smooth, light, without the tart, false taste of preservatives.
There’s salted caramel, one of the top-selling flavors and featuring caramel that Miriam actually makes in the kitchen. There’s milk and honey, using bee pollen from a beekeeper friend of Miriam’s. We asked: he wears the netted hat and everything. Whilst there, a local vender arrives with dried grapes, giving this place the ultimate neighborhood feel. Plus, there’s a delightful vegan chocolate, using carob chips, for those of us making conscious ice cream choices.When asked what the proper “Berlin” flavor would be, Miriam isn’t stumped. She considers several. The Club Mate flavor, perhaps? Sauerkraut with lemon—actually doesn’t sound too bad. We suggest the “cold doner,” to which she scrunches her nose. “Anything with beer,” she says, knowing the hearts and minds of Berliners all too well.
Die Eismacher is a delightful and unique Kreuzberg ice cream shop, revolutionizing the way we think about ice cream flavors, ice cream pairings, and strange, purple vegetables growing in the ground. Don’t miss it.