Pauly-Saal | the newest project by the Makers of Grill Royale

The Pauly Saal is a beautiful sight: Warm light shines through the gigantig chandelier-like constructions hanging from the ceiling. Pauly is the name of a glass factory on the island of Murano known for its  precise craftsmanship since 1866. Boris Radczun, one of the owners of Grill Royal, is busy measuring the distances between rows of chairs and rearranging green and settees while his co-partner Stephan Landwehr is rummaging around at the other end of the restaurant and explaining that Italians seem to live in a different world. "The day I arrived, I saw these boxes with Italian labels just sitting on the sidewalk. I couldn't believe it – the deliverer just put the lamps on the sidewalk and drove away!" Landwehr's face speaks volumes about his attachment to the rare Italian interior. Radczun calls attention to the special acoustics of the space. "I'm especially sensible to sound for known reasons." (Radczun used to be a pretty happening DJ). He points to the silk-screened walls. Behind them, Radczun has installed noise-insulating felt plates. "You should hear the acoustics in the hall above us, the soundwaves just bounce back from all over the place."

He proceeds to the sideboard in the middle of the room, where roasts are sliced and kept warm, and poultry and the occasional pheasant are carved out, where crêpe suzettes are prepared and crème brûlées are flambéd. I ask him about the participation of the Austrian starred chef Siefried "Siggi" Danler. "Everyone's always talking about local and regional cuisine – but that means that you can't get everything at every time of the year. So we'll have classic stockpiling and we'll pickle some foods, like seasonal fruit or vegetables."

The Pauly Saal has two kitchens: An open one for the Pauly Saal dinner guests and another working kitchen down in the basement level. Here, bread will be baked, Wurst will be made and fish from the Baltic Sea will be descaled. Most of the restaurant is still under construction, except for Helen Mol's wine cellar. Mol, known to many as the Sommeliere at White Trash on Schönhauser Allee, is already busy shelving hundreds of German, Austrian and Italian wines.  

Back up from the cellar to the ground floor, we pause and sit for a moment. Big mistake: The chairs and sofas are so comfortable that you will never want to get back up again. It is at this point that I realize what this big restaurant lodged in a former Jewish Girl's School has the potential to become: One of the city's best new restaurants. (emh)