Amsterdam Foodie

As winter becomes ever more pervasive, my impulses turn towards cosy gezelligheid, warm eetcafes, spicy red wine and comfort food. With two newbies in town, I wanted to try somewhere typically Dutch and yet a little off the beaten track. The Utrechtsestraat is an undiscovered gem in that sense: one end nudges the Rembrandtplein, home of neon awfulness, stag-do-ridden clubs and sprawling terraces. But the other end houses Pata Negra (one of the city’s most famously authentic tapas bars), de Huiskamer (possibly one of my favourite bars, mezzanine style) and Café Krom – a prime example of brown cafes at their understated best.

Vooges was recommended to me by colleagues, and it fits into Utrechtsestraat’s muted energy entirely. You can’t make reservations after 7 pm, so it’s a case of turning up and hoping for the best. On a Wednesday evening at 8.30, we didn’t have to wait for a table for four – but neither did the place feel under-populated. We ordered two carafes of the house wine – one red, one white – both of which were good value and easy to drink. The waitress was surprisingly friendly for Amsterdam. All of this boded well.

But then the starters arrived. I’d ordered the Thai fishcakes, while the others ate pumpkin soup and mushroom ravioli. Three very different dishes (which makes me nervous, at the best of times) but all with one thing in common: an accident with the salt cellar. Needless to say, it was me who broke the salty ice; but no sooner had I done so, than all three of my dining companions remarked that their own dishes were heavy on salt. I tasted them; they were right.

I’m not sure if the kitchen heard us, or (more probably) if there are two different chefs for the main courses and the starters, but our prospects looked up as we moved on to the second course. My venison with mash, sprouts and poached pear was wintery and satisfying, while the ‘baby’ sole (that resembled lemon sole as opposed to dover – I’ve never heard of baby sole) was fresh if slightly overcooked. Having attempted to order Dutch-style mussels, a steaming bowl of Thai-style mussels appeared but, ordering mistakes excepted, the taste was triumphant. Moreover, the chips that accompanied the fish dishes were both crispy and fluffy, and had a faint tang of vinegar – which I surmised might have been added purely for us Brits.

The chefs at Vooges would do well to taste each other’s food but, all in all, the kitchen has potential. It’s just a shame that a promising set of ingredients were overridden by the pervading taste of salt. But at €35 a pop, it’s probably worth a second chance…