Devour Amsterdam’s coolest neighbourhood
Stops at local eateries served with a side of local stories create a must-do foodie tour
AMSTERDAM— All city tours should start with a plate of soft, spongy poffertjes — tiny pancakes served with butter and powdered sugar. They’re often drenched with Advocaat, a potent Dutch spirit made with eggs and brandy. It’s not yet midday, so I skip the alcohol, but my stab at abstaining proves pointless, because we kick off our tour with a shot of tulip vodka. It’s just as potent, and not for the faint-hearted.
Eating Amsterdam Food Tours’ Rudolph Kempers is the guide for our tour of Jordaan, Amsterdam’s foodie neighbourhood. This formerly working-class area, known for its radical politics and sense of community, has transformed into Amsterdam’s hippest ’hood, filled with delis and restaurants that offer a nod to Jordaan’s diverse past. This is what makes it special.
While residents in Hoxton, London and Williamsburg, N.Y., complain of over-gentrification, Jordaan’s remained true to its roots.
Take its “brown cafés.” The antithesis of sleek city bars with identikit decor, brown cafés are wonderfully rough-and-ready affairs, wood-panelled and dating back to the 17th century.
The food is simple: typical fare is bitterballen (ragout-filled dough balls) washed down with steins of dark ale. The Netherlands’ best folk singers have always come from Jordaan, which is why you won’t hear stereos blaring from brown cafés. Customers provide their own soundtrack. Pass one and it’s highly likely you’ll hear a rousing rendition of songs such as Geef mij maar Amsterdam ( Amsterdam is the Place for Me).
En route to our next stop, Kempers shows us hofjes. Tucked down narrow passageways, these greeneryfilled spaces are also known as “widows’ courtyards.” The clusters of small apartments that surround them date back to the 17th century. Wealthy Amsterdammers built them as an act of charity. Visit the most famous one, Karthuizerhof, and you’ll see a plaque listing the donors responsible for its construction.
Later, we stop at Swieti Sranang, one of Jordaan’s many Surinamese restaurants, for some pom — a spicy yellow curry-like dish served on a thick slab of bread. Surinam and Indonesian cuisines are very popular here. Hundreds of thousands of Indonesian workers went to work in Surinam, a former Dutch colony. When the Dutch returned they brought with them a passion for both cuisines.
Another reminder of Amsterdam’s diversity can be found at JWO Lekkernijen, a deli run by local couple Jan-Willem and Ongkie (one of the first gay couples to marry in the country). There are towering stacks of cheese wheels, meat from the nearby Butcher Louman and pâtés from Belgium.
Equally typical of Amsterdam are Jordaan’s wonderfully wonky buildings. Some lean so far to one side that the windows have clearly been cut to shape. Kempers explains that (unlike a sideways-leaning building), a forward-leaning one isn’t cause for concern, but a deliberate feature used by the owner to show off the property.
We refuel with some kibbeling, Amsterdam’s version of fish and chips — delicious, bite-sized, battered pieces of fish. We also try some herring. Eel had once been the most popular seafood, but today herring reigns supreme, and the start of herring sea- son is marked with champagne-andherring parties.
On the way to our next stop, Kempers points out Jordaan’s façade stones. These intricately carved bricks, placed above doorways, indicate the nature of a business. For example, a carving of a leg of lamb indicates a butcher.
Strangely, the red-light district has the most façade stones — a deceptively beautiful adornment of an area with a dark underbelly. Kempers points out Amsterdam has often been referred to as “a beautiful virgin with stinking breath.” I beg to differ. It’s easy to fall in love with Amsterdam and its teetering houses and tree-lined canals, although Kempers explains the latter have a dark side.
Around 20 people die every year after falling into the canals, he tells us; he’s rescued at least one drunk person from their murky depths. The slick walls make it tricky to escape, although some are being fitted with ledges, allowing anyone who falls in to edge their way along to an exit point.
When a man is pulled from the wa- ter, Kempers reveals, police look at his zipper. If it’s undone, it’s almost certain he fell in while drunkenly answering a call of nature. Mystery solved.
In terms of other debris, 50,000 bicycles are pulled out of the canals every year, although that figure isn’t so shocking considering Amsterdam has more bikes than people.
In the 1980s, the city had a heroin problem, and bike theft hit an alltime high.
“My bike was stolen four times,” Kempers recalls. “If you got your bike stolen, you’d simply go to the ‘bicycle bridge’ and buy another from a junkie!” That particularly dark period is over.
“But we’ve still got our dark sense of humour!” Kempers says, before offering an insight. “For example, when lost German tourists asked for directions, no matter where they wanted to get to, we’d direct them to the Anne Frank House!” Tamara Hinson is a U.K.-based writer. Her trip was sponsored by Amsterdam Marketing, and Eating Amsterdam Tours, neither of which reviewed or approved this story.