A few months ago, Supper Club and I ended up in Knus, a very cosy and slightly quirky restaurant on the Reguliersdwarsstraat. A very pleasant evening, though not the one we’d planned given that we were turned away from the restaurant we’d actually booked, Lo Stivale d’Oro, on the grounds that our table was not likely to be vacated any time soon. Stivale is heralded as one of those ssh-don’t-tell-anyone restaurants that locals try to protect from the tide of tourists and where reservations can be disregarded in the wave of an authentic Mediterranean hand. Still curious, and slightly piqued, by this infamous Italian then, I was interested to have a second opportunity to visit.
This time, there being only four of us, we were a little more successful with our quest for a table, and sat down to a school-jug’s worth of Italian house red wine. We ordered two plates of antipasti to share: one meat and one vegetable. I could happily have eaten both all by myself. To follow, I had meat ravioli with the classic melted butter and sage, which I’d been craving ever since my two previous Italian experiences when I’ve been jealous of my dining companion’s ravioli on both occasions. The filling had a slight cat food quality to it, but the pasta itself was excellent. In fact, I could’ve eaten two portions of that as well. Stivale is one of the few Italian restaurants outside Italy in which the whole antipasti-primi-secondi-dolce concept has the potential to work because the portions are sufficiently small to merit four courses. Not knowing this beforehand, however, I’d only ordered a pasta dish and no secondo, and the Italian proprietress was frankly far too terrifying to approach with a late request (at least, she had the air of a proprietress; I have no idea if she actually was). So, to fill the tiramisu-shaped whole I had left in my belly, I ordered the tiramisu, which was doughier than others I’ve eaten but no less tasty.
Although, I suspect, that there are many Amsterdammers who will not be pleased that I’ve publicised this ‘insiders only’ Italian joint (and this is, of course, the eternal dilemma of the restaurant reviewer – to broadcast a restaurant and risk never being able to get a table there again, or to keep it a secret and compromise the very meaning of being a reviewer?), I find myself still not entirely convinced. My quest for great Italian food in Amsterdam continues…