Above: Tower of spinach-stuffed winter squash, eggplant, goat cheese, apricot, and caramelized onion atop couscous at Rainarai Prinsengracht
We only had time to sample a handful of restaurants in Amsterdam, but two drew us back multiple times. Maybe these photos will help you decide what’s a good fit for you.
The spacious tree-shaded setting by the canal is what makes Brasserie Nel a popular, people-watching spot for lunch. There was nothing wrong nor exciting about the Black Angus burger, fortunately with the barbecue sauce served on the side. Smitten as I am by Dutch brown bread with sweet, creamy butter, I can’t recommend the pair of bland shrimp croquettes, smaller than Vienna sausages, to anyone seeking a satisfying lunch.
Above: Brasserie Nel
I was always outside and able to sleep anywhere. I am from Algeria, from a family of nomads. For me, the meaning of nomadic is freedom, a loose way of life and that also applies to cooking, where adventure and quality come first.”
Laurent Med Khellout, chef of Rainarai Prinsengracht
Piles of fresh vegetables attracted us to Rainarai Prinsengracht, and discovering it is an Algerian-nomadic kitchen piqued our interest. Offerings vary based on what is fresh in the markets, but we enjoyed versions of the stuffed winter squash twice. Salmon was grilled perfectly with an abundance of seasoned pumpkin, zucchini and tomatoes alongside. We had no opportunity to try any of those vegetable pizzas seductively displayed in the window.
Above: Rainarai Prinsengracht
If you’ve ever wandered past The Seafood Bar at Spui 15, you probably have a photo of its glittering Art Nouveau mosaics. With a surname meaning fisherman, the de Vissher family founded a chain of seafood restaurants located in distinctive historic properties.
We never ventured past The Seafood Bar’s remarkably fresh starters and sides; bass ceviche, crabcakes, and Gallician-style grilled octopus were all wonderful. The price for a pair of roasted scallops sounds exorbitant, but not when you taste them. The Seafood Bar’s unusual recipe combines them with shimeji mushrooms bathing in a cafe au lait jus – luscious. Sides of asparagus, carrots and sweet potato fries match the quality of the seafood.
We lunched at this location twice and, on a one-day layover later, sampled the handsome Seafood Bar at Damrak 213.
Above: The Seafood Bar
Am unsure whether you should even begin to judge Sous Bar-Bistro in the Nine Streets neighborhood by our photos because the website says the pleasant wine bar has a new chef with a new menu as of this past fall. We found the roasted vegetable salad with creamy burrata to be wonderful; the fried sweet potatoes as well. A veal piadina sandwich with tonnato sauce was not particularly to our liking. I suggest consulting more current reviews and menu before venturing there.
Above: Sous Bar-Bistro
‘It’s not a random mish-mash—it’s more of an orchestration of dishes,’ explains author and Dutch culinary historian Peter Rose. ‘Think of rijsttafel as a favorable way of combining flavors from different regions. The goal is to create an interesting combination of tastes and spices: hot, cold, sweet, salty, sour, bitter. There’s a whole palate of flavors in one meal.’ And to an eighteenth-century northern European hailing from a damp, cold climate—with a cuisine to match—rijsttafel functioned as a most fantastic sensory overload….
In its 60-year tenure in The Netherlands, rijsttafel has grown to occupy a unique space: it’s an almost comically broad sampler of Indonesia’s vast cuisine, distilled to Dutch specifications, then championed by Indonesians in their adopted homeland and duly welcomed by the locals.”
“Rijstaffel: Amsterdam’s Indonesian Feast,” Jamie Feldmar, Saveur, June 8, 2012
Lamar had magical memories of a rice table feast from his college days and couldn’t wait to revisit the experience. Fifty years or so later, we couldn’t imagine wanting to devour an 18-dish meal late at night. We weren’t opposed to the concept of an overwhelming array of dishes, particularly the spicy ones, placed in front of us, we wanted to tackle our rijstaffel during a long, leisurely lunch. This ruled out most of the Indonesian restaurants in Amsterdam.
A simple, family-owned restaurant came to our rescue, Tujuh Maret, which also is much less expensive than many places. Stretching out longer than our table for two could possibly accommodate without the aid of a nearby windowsill, some of the dishes contained a spark of that magic Lamar recalled; others were so-so.
The experience of sampling all of them creates an entertaining experience and left us understanding why the Dutch East India Company was so excited by the flavorful riches of the Spice Islands. There certainly are more elegant establishments to partake of rijkstaffel, but, at lunchtime, Tujuh Maret provides a welcome adaptation.
Above: Tujuh Maret rijkstaffel
Postcards from Barton Springs 