Running Meine Mama: A Woman, a Cook, a Mother, a Daughter – and the Challenges Nobody Sees

The Dream That Started in a Small Kitchen

Before Meine Mama became a café at Franklinstraße 21, it was just a dream in a small apartment kitchen.

I wasn't a trained chef. I didn't have a business degree. What I had was a passion for cooking – and a mom who taught me that food made by hand tastes different.

Today, I run this café & bistro in Charlottenburg as:

• The owner

• The cook

• The sauce maker

• The soup stirrer

• The person who wakes up earliest and leaves last

And also as a wife, a mother, and a daughter.

Let me tell you what that really looks like.

The Challenges Nobody Sees

When you walk into Meine Mama, you see a cozy space, a warm counter, and a smile. What you don't see is what happens before the door opens.

The early mornings.
I wake up before my family does. While my child is still sleeping, I'm already at the café, soaking chickpeas for hummus, chopping vegetables for soup, and whisking dressings by hand.

The tired afternoons.
Between serving customers, answering calls, and cleaning the kitchen, I steal minutes to check in on my family. Did my child eat? Does my husband need anything? Have I called my mom this week?

The guilt.
There's always guilt. Guilt that I'm not spending enough time at home. Guilt that I'm not spending enough time at the café. Guilt that I'm tired when I'm with my family – and tired when I'm with my customers.

The physical exhaustion.
I stand over the stove for hours. I lift heavy pots. I chop, stir, taste, adjust. By the end of the day, my back hurts. But the soup is good. The Shakshuka is ready. The sauces are made.

The invisible work.
Nobody sees the hours of planning. The trips to buy fresh ingredients. The cleaning. The accounting. The social media. The website updates. The answering of reviews. That's all me.

Why I Do It Anyway

Because I love it.

I love waking up early to cook for people. I love seeing a customer take their first spoonful of Linsensuppe and close their eyes. I love when someone says "this tastes like home" – because that's the highest compliment I can receive.

I do it for my mom, who taught me that good food doesn't need shortcuts. Every recipe I cook comes from her hands. She's not in the kitchen with me, but she's always there.

I do it for my husband, who believed in me when I said I wanted to open a café – even when it sounded crazy.

I do it for my child, who one day will understand why Mama was tired. And maybe, one day, will want to cook alongside me.

I do it for the women who walk into my café and tell me they've always dreamed of doing something like this. I want them to know it's possible. Hard. But possible.

What Makes Me Different from Other Cafés in Charlottenburg

Let me be honest. There are many cafés near Franklinstraße 21. Some are bigger. Some are fancier. Some have been here longer.

But here's what makes Meine Mama different:

Other Cafés

Meine Mama

Buy sauces from wholesalersI

Use powdered soup bases

Pour dressings from plastic bottles

Have multiple chefs

Follow standard recipes

Are owned by investors

I make every sauce by hand

I cook soup from real vegetables and lentils

I whisk dressings fresh every morning

It's just me – and my recipes

I cook from memory, taste, and love

I'm a woman, a wife, a mother, a daughter – and I cook for you

I don't say this to criticize others. I say this because homemade is my only advantage. And I protect it fiercely.

The Best Days

The best days are when:

• A regular customer walks in and doesn't need to order – I already know what they want

• A child eats my food and asks for more

• A mother tells me that my café feels safe, warm, and welcoming

• My husband visits and tells me he's proud of me

• My mom calls and asks how the café is doing – and I get to say "good, Mama. Really good."

Those days make the exhaustion worth it.

A Message to Every Woman Reading This

If you're a woman dreaming of opening something of your own – whether it's a café, a bakery, or anything else – here's what I want you to know:

It will be harder than you think. You will be tired. You will cry. You will question yourself.

But you will also feel something you've never felt before: pride. Pride in building something with your own hands. Pride in serving food that makes people happy. Pride in proving that a woman, a wife, a mother, a daughter – can do all of it.

Not perfectly. Not easily. But with love.

And love, as my mom taught me, is the most important ingredient.

Meine Mama Café & Bistro
Franklinstraße 21, 10587 Berlin-Charlottenburg

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