When it comes to Berlin’s hospitality scene, KINK Bar and Restaurant already has a strong reputation. But with a quiet rebrand, it’s swapped fine dining for a more accessible, community-focused approach.
This Spring, KINK reopened its doors with a fresh concept. Co-owners Daniel Scheppan and Oliver Mansaray had spent months pouring over ideas, collaborating with staff and talking directly to guests. The pair grew up in Nuremberg, where they attended the same kindergarten.
We didn’t want to be that restaurant you only visit once or twice a year.
They trained as carpenters together before pursuing different careers – separately dabbling in gastronomy. Later, they relocated to Berlin, driven by a shared desire for change. In 2020, combining their backgrounds, they opened KINK, revamping a former 19th-century Prenzlauer Berg brewery.
KINK quickly gained a Berlin-wide reputation for its fine-dining flair, curated cocktails and striking interior, the standout feature being a squiggly, suspended neon red light installation, which seemingly hovers over the bar. Yet, after a few successful years, something began to itch at the duo: “We started to feel like people were only coming around payday,” Scheppan recalls. “We didn’t want to be that restaurant you only visit once or twice a year.”
Instead of coasting on their success, the pair have decided to make KINK more affordable. “If it goes wrong, people will think we’re idiots,” Scheppan says. “To have a successful restaurant and throw it away by changing so much… but we thought, what if it goes right?”
Prices were integral to the change. Whereas before some patrons “easily spent €120 per person,” diners now see a redesigned à la carte menu, with snacks starting at €3 and small plates from €7. Their signature chicory root ice cream has retained its core ingredients of porcini, parsnip and chocolate, but dropped in price from €16 to €12. The grilled octopus also sits at €8 less on the revamped menu.
The mushroom crème brûlée is a savoury riff with earthy undertones, served with a tart fermented berry compote for €9. They’ve added a white bean and lavender cassoulet (€7) to the mix too, taking care to offer more vegetarian options that don’t feel like afterthoughts.
“Someone asked once, ‘Can I ask for a beer here? Or is it weird to ask for a beer?’ It should never be weird to ask for a beer,” shares Scheppan. Now, you can pop in for a €4.50 Pilsner and a bowl of fries with kimchi ketchup, parmesan and parsley for €6.
There’s no longer the expectation that you have to order a full-course menu. Guests can feel comfortable popping in for an after-work drink, a bite to eat or to simply soak up the beer garden atmosphere. Mansaray explains, “Now plates are designed for sharing and socialising, which wasn’t always easy with dishes where there were a few dots and some foam.”
Now plates are designed for sharing and socialising, which wasn’t always easy with dishes where there were a few dots and some foam.
Those who assume KINK has abandoned quality would be sorely mistaken. To execute the gastronomic shift, they brought in the culinary prowess of Luke Rogers, an English chef who was finishing up a decade of running kitchens in Munich. He first visited KINK back in 2022, after encountering the team at the Mixology Bar Awards. “It was next level,” he shares. “The arrogant egoist part of me was like, ‘my next project will be KINK.’”
A few years later, he spotted an Instagram story: KINK was hiring a new head chef. “I wrote them a cheeky message: ‘Hey, you beat me at the Mixology Awards, but I’m Michelin-recognised in our scene. Interested?’ I didn’t expect anything to come from it, but they wrote me back immediately.” Not long after, he was offered the job.
Although Rogers has since parted ways from the KINK team, his touch is evident throughout the new menu. Following his departure, Philipp Steffens and Matti Jörgensen stepped up as the new lead chefs — each having worked in the KINK kitchen for the past two and a half years.
While KINK is by no means cheap, with a few plates creeping past the €20 mark, the barrier to entry has shifted, and with it, the atmosphere has softened. For Scheppan and Mansaray, the rebrand was about more than lowering prices. The duo explained that it’s about inclusivity, community and recognising the financial constraints currently affecting many Berliners.
“We’ve never believed in doing something just because it’s always been done that way. We’re defining our own values and success … It’s creativity through simplicity,” Mansaray says. “If the taste is amazing, that’s enough.”
Walking into KINK today, it doesn’t immediately scream “rebrand”. Much of the former aesthetic has remained the same, but the difference is in the details. The plating is sharp, but the presentation now favours unfussy elegance over culinary theatre. Mismatched secondhand cutlery and white crockery replace the old uniformity. “Sometimes there’s even a little message on the bottom of the plate. It’s a fun way to communicate with or amuse your guests,” shares Mansaray.
Now, KINK feels more like Berlin itself: collaborative, brazen and constantly evolving. There’s still a place for champagne and oysters, but for Scheppan and Mansaray, that range is the point, not a dilution of identity, but a fuller expression of what hospitality means in 2025. “Either way we win or lose together,” Scheppan laughs, “but probably winning.”
- KINK, Schönhauser Allee 176, Prenzlauer Berg, details..
