The Mediterranean Sea, as its name suggests, lies in the middle between the Orient and the Occident and has always transported cultures and cuisines back and forth. Let’s just take simple meatballs as an example. They are called Keftedes in Greek, Köfteler in Turkish, and like the Arabic counterpart Kofta, the name goes back to the Persian word for “to chop”. Spaniards, on the other hand, eat albóndigas, and the journey from the Pillars of Hercules back to the Bosphorus begins: Bunduq is the Arabic word for hazelnut and similarly spherical things. The Arabs in turn got this from the Greeks, who call a hazelnut Fundúki, which in turn refers to the fact that the hazelnut bushes once stood on the Póntos, the sea, in this case the black one.
From this big tour back to small Haidhausen, we find on the Kuzina menu, exactly: Albóndigas. To our astonishment, because we would have expected keftedes in a place called “Greek Restaurant & Bar”. It’s neither Greek nor Spanish nor in any other way Mediterranean, but it does demonstrate a claim: the Kuzina obviously doesn’t want to be just the traditional Greek on the corner.
But different, more modern. Abstract art adorns the white walls of the guest room, the benches and chairs are upholstered in black, and spherical lamps unobtrusively illuminate uncovered tables. The bar reigns supreme, behind which rows of bottles, mostly containing alcohol, sparkle up to the ceiling. The list of cocktails mixed here is long.
For a long time, Greek cuisine was more of a Cinderella among its more refined Mediterranean sisters. But she has been in the process of renewing herself for some time. Gyros, moussaka and tzatziki, plus cheap retsina to the bone and then an ouzo on the house – what the country has been serving up to tourists since the time of Alexis Sorbas, you don’t get that in Kuzina.
The bar reigns supreme. The list of cocktails is long.
(Photo: Robert Haas)
It is a rather small menu that awaits the guest here. The ingredients are all listed with dashes, as it seems to be a bit trendy at the moment, otherwise everything is very clear: three times fish, four times meat, one vegetarian, and many, many starters.
Of course there are the traditional stuffed vine leaves (7.80 euros) – and they showed here that they can be so much more than an acetic stomach filler that makes Greek resin wine bearable. The tender, warm leaf rolls lay on a colorful plate in a spicy-sweet yoghurt with raisins and covered a rice pudding filling that resembled a creamy risotto – such dolmades couldn’t be much better. The traditional pastes, which are commonly served with pita bread and are flattered here as “Vegane Liebe” (14.50), were also prepared with care that is otherwise rare: the dark, sweet and sour pickled beetroot, the hummus in which the pureed chickpeas still slightly gritty, or its counterpart made from vetchling peas, the fava, beautifully refined with capers. The knobbly-fine smoke of the chutney-like aubergine spread stood out from this quartet.
The full-blown form of the meatball: bifteki filled with buffalo mozzarella.
(Photo: Robert Haas)
The also beautifully tender arms of the octopus (14.00), elegantly seasoned with thyme, protruded from a mixture of lentils and quinoa, which went well with it here. The whole thing was sharpened with pimientos, i.e. small Spanish peppers. The chefs are therefore quite happy to cross overly restrictive national kitchen boundaries. With which the cordial and competent waiters brought the mentioned Albóndigas (8.00) to the table, balls of fine minced beef in a pleasantly spicy tomato and mint sauce, but rather lukewarm than warm.
Almost like its full-grown form, about the size of a tennis ball and twice as much, the Bifteki (16.00) appeared for the main course, filled not with spicy feta but with non-Greek buffalo mozzarella, which gave the spicy minced steak a milder, more refined note. And the solid Fritto Misto (17.50) – i.e. the crispy fried seafood – referred to Magna Graecia, as Italy was called in ancient times. And with the really skillfully grilled, juicy baby calamari (17.00) there was quinoa again – the fashionable grain, a bit too dry and too peppery, didn’t go so well with it.
Unobtrusive furnishings and lovely service: the Kuzina.
(Photo: Robert Haas)
Gudmund and his blackheads almost felt like the traditional Greeks over the “Kuzina BBQ plate” (17.90), only that lamb chops, pork medallions, pieces of chicken and minced steaks don’t pile up on this grill plate to form mountains of meat, just a small, delicious one formed mounds. Even the rosemary potatoes were tiny – how the portions of the main courses were even sized to follow a decent starter.
A savory cake (6.80) saturated with sweet syrup and sinfully soaked, known as revani all along the shores of the eastern Mediterranean, therefore also fit in. The list of open wines is also international, characterized more by German than Greek wines, with a sparkling white of the autochthonous grape variety Moschofilero (7.50 for 0.2 liters) showing that Greek wines are no longer all as heavy as the blood of the earth.
KuzinaKellerstraße 32, 81667 Munich, telephone: 089/44488770, opening hours: Monday to Saturday from 5.30 p.m. to midnight.
The SZ taster
The restaurant review “Tasting” of Süddeutsche Zeitung has a long tradition: it has been published weekly in the local section since 1975, and has also been online for several years, with a rating scale. About a dozen editors with culinary expertise from all departments – from Munich, science to politics – take turns writing about the city’s gastronomy. The choice is endless, the Bavarian economy is just as important as the Greek fish restaurant, the American fast food chain, the special bratwurst stand or the gourmet restaurant decorated with stars. The special thing about the SZ taster: The authors write under pseudonyms, often with a culinary touch. They go into the restaurant to be tested unnoticed about two or three times, depending on how long the budget given by the editors lasts. Iron basic rules: a grace period of one hundred days for the kitchen of a new restaurant to familiarize itself. And: Never get caught working as a restaurant critic – to be able to describe food and drink, service and atmosphere impartially.