Curry 36

Curry 36 – © visitBerlin / Buller

A hiss, a flare, then the ketchup dab and one currywurst—the neon sign on the storefront is the “Curry 36” diner logo on Mehringdamm 36, corner of Yorckstraße, in Kreuzberg-Berlin.

In the following 19 hours, over three work-shifts, close to 600 currywursts will be fried; and this entirely beside the kielbasas, krautwursts, bockwursts, meatballs, kebabs and fries.
The day in the “Curry 36” begins at 9 o’clock; at 9:05, the first wursts are done; at 9:20, the first coffee wanders over the counter–to a taxi driver. At 9:43, hard to believe, the first currywurst But actually, it is the hour for deliveries, twelve bags of fries, battered schnitzel and ketchup.

The invention of the currywurst is credited to Herta Heuwer, who on the 4th of September 1949, at her food-stand on the corner of Kant/Kaiser-Friedrich-Straße in Berlin-Charlottenburg, offered fried scalded sausage with a tomato sauce made out of tomato paste, curry powder, Worcestershire sauce and additional secret ingredients—the beginning of a Berliner specialty. Since 2003, situated at the former location (today: Kantstraße 101) is a commemorative plaque in its honor.

At “Curry 36”, with a full mouth, one can carnally commemorate the wurst and its inventor. And many do that daily. The intersection is a traffic-hub, unemployment office and social services are located just around the corner. In the first days of the month, the crowds are especially large. Here, taxi drivers encounter city officials, police officers bartenders—seven days a week, always 19 hours long. People from all parts of Berlin make pilgrimages to this food-stand. At “Curry 36” there is curry “with” and curry “without”—meant is the intestines. Extra ketchup costs 30 cents. Worldly wisdom or gentle verbal abuse is free of charge.

The attitude towards life is laid back. People know each other. The “meatball man” has been coming here for decades, every day. And the story of the millionaire, who doesn’t want to eat alone, everyone knows too. The morning belongs to the construction workers; noon to the employees from the area, and the afternoon is mixed in its attendance.

At night-time, when the other well known curry-stand, Konnopke on Kastanienallee, has long been closed, hardly more customers come than in the morning. But the people don’t rush anymore–they have time. And they’re louder. For example, night revellers at eight bar tables fight with calories against the alcohol. The last customer comes at four on the dot, a taxi driver, which drove here especially from Kudamm, for a wurst in the “Curry 36”.

Cleaning, gather paper plates and toothpicks, refill the ketchup bottles from the bins and let out the cooled-off fat from the deep fryers. Closing time—then for a nightcap next door in the Bier-Express. In three hours, the morning shift turns the neon sign on again. And daily calls the flickering currywurst.