Here’s a mishmash of photos I’ve taken since I got here:

Good, bad or really sexy, graffiti is everywhere in Berlin. And when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere.

From a park in Prenzlauer Berg, you can see the famed radio tower in the distance

This fountain in Friedrichshain stopped us in our tracks.

Sony Center sits in Potsdamer Platz, a public square destroyed in WWII. With the Wall running through it, the area remained a wasteland through the Cold War.

Walk down Any Strasse Berlin, and you’re sure to come across the city’s king and queen of street food: currywurst and döner kebab. Both are said to have been created in Berlin (the “inventor” of döner kebab, Mahmut Aygün, passed away very recently). Who wears the pants in this monarchy of fast food is certainly up for debate. What is not is how prolific both döner and currywurst vendors are, especially in the neighborhood we called home since October, Moabit.

Quick explanation of the dishes:

Currywurst is a sausage that’s deep-fried, cut into pieces, covered in ketchup and curry powder, served with a roll, perhaps French fries, and eaten with the CUTEST little baby fork you’ve every seen.

Curry Eck in Moabit does currywurst right

Döner kebab is a master of disguise. The meat, which is lamb, beef or chicken, is cooked on an upright rotating spit. Lovingly called “lamb SPAM” by my friend Mindi, the meat is sliced off in strips – either with a knife or a crazy electronic shredder – and then transplanted into a variety of carb costumes. In a piece of grilled bread, it is known as döner im brot. In flat bread, it is dürum döner. On a plate, it is a “teller.” In a dress, it’s your mom.

Construction of the döner includes your choice of three different sauces: a hot sauce, a herb sauce and a garlic sauce, all of which are slathered on. Vegetables are stuffed inside, the sandwich is wrapped in a paper sleeve, and voilá, you have a drunk person’s dream food, all for fewer than 3 euro.

When I first got here, we were having döner fairly often. It’s cheap. It’s filling. And in Moabit, it is everywhere. After about four of these things, I thought it might be a good idea to research how many calories each contains. While I can’t say my Web research yielded a clear-cut answer, I did come away with some words of wisdom. One poster, responding to someone’s question regarding the calories in döner, wrote that when she is sober, a döner has at least a thousand calories. When she’s drunk, a döner is a calorie-free treat. How true.

For years now, Barrett and I have dreamed of opening a taco cart in Berlin — it’s that cilantro-sprinkled vision that finally brought us here. So, it should come as no surprise that upon my arrival in Berlin, we decided to save the schnitzel for later and check out the competition.

Chicken in mole rojo with a delightful side of basmati rice

My estimation is that there are probably fewer than 20 Mexican food restaurants in the city, with its best-known places being Dolores and Viva Mexico. Stop No. 1, however, is Que Pasa, a “mexikanische” food restaurant right off the U-Bahn in the city’s Kreuzberg neighborhood.

German Grammar Lesson Eins: I learn that it’s not called a “Mexikanische” restaurant because the food is “Mexican-ish,” as in somewhat Mexican-like, but that in German the “isch/e” denotes nationality: amerikanisch = American, italienisch = Italian, etc.

I thought they were just being honest.

To be completely fair, the food was tasty, but my chicken in mole rojo was more like chicken and chutney, and I swear, the cheese in Barrett’s burrito was paneer. I am not sure where the guacamoleische hails from.

Gimme a break -- It's New Year's in Berlin!

Two months have passed since I arrived in Berlin, and I had every intention of blogging about my experiences here. As you can tell by the date of my last post, things didn’t go quite according to plan.

The biggest setback came about five days in when the hard drive on my computer died, taking with it a bunch of blog-destined journal entries and all 20 pages of my Not-So-Great, Not-So-American Novel. Then the Internet went out at the apartment we were subleasing, which meant me having to haul my half-frozen ass to the local Web cafe when it was all of 8 degrees out. Sure, I’ll suffer for my art, but not if my toes are at stake.

Eventually, everything was sorted out, but to be honest, it was really hard to get back on track when I wasn’t on one in the first place. So here I am, writing my first entry in weeks. It feels good, in that I have know this is what I should have been doing from the beginning.

So, without further excuse, here are posts and pics to get everyone up to speed — finally.