This has been my year of international travel. First Japan, then India, and now I've just returned from a long weekend in Amsterdam, tagging along with my wife for her conference. What fun, though jet lag sure gets harder as one gets older.
We booked a couple of restaurants ahead of time based on a little quick internet research (the best tips coming from Dutchgrub , a food blog run by a German expat), and then let chance guide us to the rest of our meals. Normally I'd be all about an Indonesian rijstaffel, a post-colonial feast of numerous small plates and curries with rice, but we had just eaten one last year when we were in Holland for an overnight plane connection. It was delicious but took forever; we didn't need such a production this time, so instead stayed with European restaurants.
Credit: John Kessler
Credit: John Kessler
The Dutch seem to like menus with little choice and less rigamarole. Kitchens at several of the city's best loved and reviewed restaurants serve an assortment of daily starters and then let you pick an entree or else just have one choice. As an omnivore who always wants to try what's best in the kitchen, I love this approach. I could never see it fly here in the land of food issues.
Of the places we tried, I'd most recommend De Kas , which is set at the edge of a park in an old glass greenhouse and grows all its vegetables on site or on a local farm. The natural light is fantastic, and you can get up during the meal to go look at the zucchini plants that grow as big as agave, and the cucumbers trellised to a string hanging from the ceiling. The menu was locally driven to the point the restaurant served a Dutch sparkling riesling, Aldenborgh Eyra Droog, as an aperitif. It was dry and delicious, made with the méthode champenois.
The meal was a "surprise" menu, though people with food hates/allergies/religious injunctions can ask what it will entail and get a substitute. The three starters included a warm white asparagus soup decorated with chive flowers, slivers of lush cured salmon with couscous and thyme pesto, and one of those bits-and-pieces modern salads that comes decorated with slivers of candy-striped beet and lone arugula leaves. The main course, a slab of unctuous roasted Berkshire pork shoulder and a fresh sausage, counted among its various plate garnishes a chunk of softly braised old carrot and a halved grill-seared new carrot. (I let some of the carrots in my backyard garden winter over, so this resonated with me.) Dessert was the pretty soup above.
Credit: John Kessler
Credit: John Kessler
Balthazar's Keuken is a much loved shoebox charmer in the elegant Jordaan neighborhood of Amsterdam. It has been around for nearly 20 years according to the server, who identified herself as one of the owners, along with her cousin. You wedge in amidst the doll-sized bar, reach-in cooler, hobbled-together food prep space and and tiny open kitchen equipped with jury-rigged home appliances.
The meal starts with a selection of five appetizers served on a tray propped up on a pizza stand, with the bread basket tucked underneath. Yumzos: grilled sardines, chorizo sausages, tangy Italian burrata with lemon oil and dried fish, herbed ravioli and marinated cauliflower under a blanket of thick Greek yogurt. For entrees we had a choice of a thin ribeye or a rubbery little swordfish steak in Pernod butter. Not great, but when raspberry meringues arrived for dessert, the needle on the charm-o-meter was cranked back to high.
Credit: John Kessler
Credit: John Kessler
We happened to time our trip to the height of white asparagus season, an annual European freakout that Americans have a hard time understanding. At least, I do. Green asparagus has more pungency and that appealing texture when cooked right that is the very definition of the hoary food-writing cliche "crisp tender."
One night, before a concert at the uh-maaaazing Concertgebouw concert hall, we stopped in at De Knijp , a nearby bistro, for a quick meal. The specials blackboard was all about white asparagus, from cream soup to salmon with hollandaise and asparagus, to lamb and asparagus, to this dish of ham rollups, egg and potatoes. The asparagus was cooked the way many Europeans prefer -- to the point it became gooey-soft and stringy. Drawn butter came on the side along with a whole nutmeg to grate to taste over the top. There has to be something about the way it coats your tongue with its naturally buttery, elusive flavor that signals spring to the European palate.
We had none of the famous pancakes, but one delicious apple tart. And then it was time for the plane ride home.
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