Clockwise from top left: At Restaurant Tim Raue, venison with venison offal dumpling; at Horvath, suckling pig with stuffed potato dumpling; at Noto, poached trout; at Hartmanns, a bottle to go with dinner. More Photos »

BAD reputations outlive the circumstances that gave rise to them. My recent meals in Berlin were a reminder of that.

Before I went, everyone told me I’d be disappointed, wished me the best of luck, said it was a real shame I wasn’t headed to Paris or Copenhagen or some other — any other — European capital of note. Afterward, they checked back, eager for affirmation about how underwhelming my experience was. The only thing finicky gastronomes enjoy more than shared rapture is shared ridicule.

Sorry to disappoint. I ate very well in Berlin, a city that has clearly made strides over the last few years. And in several of the restaurants mentioned below, I ate adventurously, too. The food had a sense of place, with German staples and traditions in the foreground or background. But it also had a sense of improvisation, with other impulses and parts of the world rounding out the picture. The balance of the two was just right.

At one place I had what might be called German-Chinese fare and at another what might qualify as German-Italian. Befitting a city that is home to a sophisticated international crowd, its kitchens are taking an increasingly polyglot approach.

And perhaps because Berlin doesn’t have an image of culinary transcendence to live up to, even its ambitious restaurants tend to be blessedly bereft of puffed-up airs. I left them feeling not only elated but also relaxed. Dining at its happiest is supposed to do that for you.

Restaurant Tim Raue

Although only 37 years old, the chef Tim Raue has been kicking around Berlin kitchens and channeling his love for Asian cuisines for a good long while now. With this thrilling restaurant, which opened a little over a year ago, he is poised at last to attract widespread international note.

I dropped by for a long lunch in November, and was handed a menu rife with small-plate selections labeled “dim sum.” Among the entrees was Peking duck, along with a veal dish in “XO jus.” I wondered: was this simply an haute Chinese experiment that happened to be situated in Berlin? Or was Germany going to have some say?

One of the dim sum selections came looking like traditional steamed dumplings. But inside each was stewed goose: a German touch, and a seasonal one at that. And the plate the dumplings were on was dabbed with circles of a red cabbage cream, certainly not a Chinese condiment.

In place of pancakes, the Peking duck came with a thick waffle, another departure from the Chinese norm. It served as a pedestal for slices of duck breast, and that arrangement was but one part of a dish that also included a swish of duck liver mousse and an intense duck broth with bits of various duck organ meat. There was French technique and spirit at work here, too.

In fact Mr. Raue’s cooking and sensibility reminded me of the renowned work of a Frenchman in America: Jean-Georges Vongerichten. There was the same romance with Asia. The same orchestration of carefully chosen spices and peppers, from Japan and Thailand as well as China, to achieve a melody of hot, sweet and tart notes. The same attention to aromatics. The same substitution of heavy sauces with nimbler broths, like the intensely citrusy one that coddled a fillet of loup de mer.

Mr. Raue’s execution lags behind his ideas: the duck breast was slightly tough, the dumpling shells a bit soggy. But he pulls off moments of crazy delight. An appetizer broth of very German, very seasonal pumpkin had electric currents of flavor, courtesy of accents that included dried ginger, mandarin, cranberry and red, black and white peppers.

The contemporary dining room, done in dark blues and purples, is dashing without being cloying, and the restaurant’s attention to detail extends from beautiful chopsticks to extensive, impressive lists of Asian teas and European wines. I almost canceled other reservations to return to Raue, but the spirit of exploration egged me on. And a good thing it did.

Restaurant Tim Raue, Rudi-Dutschke-Strasse 26; (49-30) 25-93-7930; tim-raue.com. Four-course lunch for two with wine and tip, about 170 euros, about $210 at $1.24 to the euro.

Horvath

This charming restaurant, on a leafy and largely residential street, underwent a significant transformation midway through 2010 with the arrival of a new chef, Sebastian Frank.

An Austrian native, he came for love. After many years working under other cooks in acclaimed restaurants in Vienna, he followed a woman he met to Berlin and got a kitchen of his own, at Horvath, in the bargain. He’s making the most of the opportunity by turning out expertly composed dishes that are just busy enough to rivet you but not so busy they exhaust you.

And they’re firmly grounded in the local, seasonal spirit of the day. Before my meal, a pumpkin patch somewhere in or near Berlin had been freshly depleted, its fruits — or, rather, gourds — relocated to Horvath, where the terrific bread was accompanied by a butter infused with pumpkin seed oil, which tasted somewhat of tahini, only richer, darker. For dessert, there was pumpkin brittle ice cream. It had a nutty panache.

The dinner menu at Horvath is divided into two parts, on two pages. One is labeled traditional, and meant to hew more closely to German traditions. The other is labeled innovative. I ordered from the former while Tom, my partner, focused on the latter. Our meals were less different than we expected, and each yielded as many standouts as the other.

From the traditional menu there was suckling pig, served as pink slices of loin and gooey balls of cheek. These were accompanied by an enormous potato dumpling stuffed with minced blood sausage. Germans know how to go for gastronomic broke. And I’m happy to follow them every meaty, fatty step of the way.

From the innovative menu there was a fillet of Arctic char with an amalgam of cabbage and tomato and red pepper purées that tasted like sauerkraut in ketchup. That’s a comfort-food compliment.