BERLIN - In a dimly lit room, a table is set for 14 hungry strangers. Flutes of prosecco and small plates of fried green tomatoes appear and relieve the predinner tension as guests — Berliners and travelers alike — sip, sample and chat. The aroma of bone marrow, pork belly and roasted squash floats in from the kitchen to the table, courtesy of Natalie Mouzarkel, the chef. This is the Owling Supper Club — a restaurant within a home, and, to a degree, a secret.
