If I could cast aside considerations like nutrition, calories and balance, it's conceivable that I could live for at least four days in Amsterdam on nothing but siroopwafelen. Two thin, round waffle cookies sandwiching a layer of caramel, firm on the first bite then wonderfully chewy as they melt in your mouth; these omnipresent sweets are the culinary blockbuster of the Netherlands and the first thing my taste buds crave when I arrive.But woman can not live on siroopwafelen alone. Even my aggressive sweet tooth might eventually develop a craving for meat and the odd vegetable. Fortunately, this recent trip to Amsterdam offered two restaurants that can lure me away from the waffle cookies without regret.
Top honours goes to Seasons, a comfortable yet hip bistro on Herenstraat. This is a small place, with perhaps 14 tables and a view into the kitchen at the back. It's elegantly decorated in warm tones with streamlined, modern fittings and artistic floral arrangements. The genial partners (Dutchman Peter front of house, Texan turned long-term expat Blaine as chef) clearly know the locals and have a regular clientele. The menu is hand written, one assumes to change as seasonally as the restaurant name implies. In short, this is exactly the kind of place any of us would love to have around the corner, but few do.
Would the food live up to the promise? Circumstances found me eating here twice during my visit. The first time delivered a resounding "yes", the second time a more qualified recommendation.
Let's start with the better meal. We went a la carte, following the owners' recommendations on what was best that evening. A wise course. I started with fresh asparagus, wrapped in prosciutto, grilled, and topped with a lightly poached egg. Not a combination I would have ever made, but an absolutely delicious one. My friend had the split pea soup which, it turns out, is a Dutch national specialty. Not a dish I've ever been that keen on, but a taste here had me reconsidering. A large bowl of this could have made a very satisfying dinner.In fact, the starter menu was so impressive I never did make it to the mains. I had been so drawn to two of their starters that they offered to make the second into a main course for me, thus following the asparagus with risotto topped by scallops wrapped in bacon. The rice was exactly al dente and rich with that creamy texture restaurants often fail to achieve when they hurry this dish; the scallops a fine complement. It was a Texan sized portion and I really should have been a good girl and left some behind. But it was too tasty for that kind of delicacy.
The kitchen really hit its stride on dessert. On my first visit I had their strawberry pavlova and was impressed by an absolutely perfect meringue: crisp and dry on the outside, chewy and marshmallow-like in the centre. On my second I discovered some of the best chocolate mousse I've ever had. Two large quenelles (Texas-sized portions again) of dark chocolate that managed to be airy and light on the spoon, but rich and mouth filling on the tongue.
Sadly the food on visit two didn't live up to my introduction. It was only at the end of the evening that we learned it was the chef's night off, which might also explain the very slow kitchen. I also believe I went for false economy choosing off their set price menu. For 10 euro more I'd had a dramatically better selection the first evening. So a strong recommendation for Seasons with a couple of caveats: make sure Blaine is cooking, and go with Peter or Blaine's recommendations off the a la carte menu.
A satisfying alternative in the same general neighbourhood is 101 Singel. This is another long, narrow, small neighbourhood place. A bit more cave-like due to its lower ceilings, black panelling and sunken kitchen at the rear, the decor here is a more intimate than Seasons' and would probably be the better choice for a romantic evening. Otherwise, the restaurants are very similar in price and quality.
I started with a rabbit terrine served with a bit of chutney on the side. An excellent dish, but the decorative smear of chutney really needed to be a generous dollop, since its tart-and-sweet bite was a necessary balance to the gamey richness of the meat. I was disappointed with my main, which was supposed to be a Moroccan chicken served with cous cous. The latter was excellent, but the chicken was lacking any distinctive spices to earn this its North African tag and was mostly dark meat. It's my fault for not asking; I find anything other than breast of chicken fairly unpalatable. I was looking enviously across the table at my friend's fillet of beef, one of the most beautiful cuts I'd seen in a long while. Unfortunately it came to her plate almost purple with blood and had to be sent back to the kitchen twice before it came to anything approaching medium rare (her original order). But a few bites of her steak, once it had stopped bleeding, and knew I had made a bad ordering mistake; the chicken couldn't compare.
101 redeemed itself on dessert, however. I'd taken a big risk and ordered the tiramisu. Why risky? I make what is possibly the best tiramisu recipe in the world, and find that most restaurant attempts are pale imitations and cheap shortcuts. But this menu said Sicilian tiramisu. Which is a wild contradiction, because tiramisu is a Northern dish; it simply doesn't exist in the Sicilian tradition. So I had to try it. The difference? Candied fruit and pistachio nuts, classic tastes of Sicilian desserts, folded in to the zabaglione layer. And yes, there was a real zabaglione layer (the bit so many restaurants leave out), separate from the whipped cream, binding together cake that had been dipped rather than drowned in the espresso and alcohol. A perfect blend of North and South, and an adaptation I'm keen to try in my own kitchen.
In both places a three course meal before alcohol will run you about 40 euro, marginally less than the equivalent meal in London. Sadly, we have ever fewer of these little neighbourhood treasures, as the London restaurant scene seems to polarise towards high end, fine dining or chains. It was a delight to find top quality local spots thriving in Amsterdam. If you get there, do patronise them so they can continue.
My Amsterdam host, Sheila, with Seasons owners Peter and Blaine
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