Please note that since writing this blog post, diVino has closed down
Picture the scene: my friend was at an Amsterdam restaurant that shall remain nameless (largely because I can’t remember what it was), in which he asked for a glass of white wine. ‘Dry or sweet?’ asked the waitress? ‘Umm, do you have anything medium?’ he replied. The response came: ‘Well, not really, but I could mix them together half and half, if you like?’
I am not a gasper, but I gasped. And then nearly levitated off my chair in amused shock. I just had to share…
Anyway, there we were in diVino, a new-ish Italian wine bar in the Jordaan, sharing customer service stories and the latest gossip. Despite the after-effects of a rather epic weekend, Prosecco seemed like a good idea (when doesn’t Prosecco seem like a good idea?) so we ordered a glass each. The bubbles were delicate, the flavour off-dry and summery. The wine menu came with a list of antipasti, so we opted for a ‘combination plate’ of meats and cheeses, and some olive and herb bread, to share.
Antipasti
The combination consisted of three types of cheese: strong, peppery pecorino; soft, ripe taleggio; and firm, perfectly salted ricotta. The meats were good too, especially the salami whose fat was full of porky flavour.
The antipasti put us in the mood for red wine, so we ordered a bottle of soft, round, 2007 Acquagiusta and enquired about the fresh pasta. They had just two dishes on offer (which is more than fine by me – I like that kind of focus), and we all plumped for the linguine with saffron, prosciutto and asparagus. The asparagus tasted fresh and full of flavour, despite the lateness of the season, and I loved the fragrance of the saffron. My only criticism is that the dish was too salty for my taste, but it didn’t stop me polishing it off.
Linguine with asparagus, prosciutto and saffron
There were no desserts, which was also fine by me, so we asked for a limoncello to finish. The bottles had just arrived and therefore weren’t cold, so my friends drank it with ice, while I tried the proffered (pre-chilled) alternative called Mirto: a herbal, almost medicinal-flavoured liqueur from Sardinia. Both on the house, which was much appreciated.
Returning to our earlier topics of conversation (customer service and gossip) my friends concluded that ‘the service was relaxed without being slack’ and ‘it would make a perfect date venue’. diVino, it seemed, was close to divine.
