The bitterballen, five golden spheres, crisp and deep-fried, the size of large marbles, arrive on a plate with a pot of mustard and a warning from the bartender: “Let them cool. The inside is lava.” He is not exaggerating. The beef ragout inside, slow-cooked, reduced, thickened with roux, retains heat with the efficiency of molten rock, and the correct technique (bite the top off, blow gently, wait ten seconds, then eat) is learned through painful trial. The Dutch have been eating bitterballen since the 17th century, and they see no reason to change a formula that has clearly worked. Amsterdam is a food city hiding in plain sight. The clues are in the brown cafés, the herring stalls, and the Surinamese roti shops that tell the story of the Netherlands’ colonial history in every bite.

Amsterdam: Where to Eat, and What

The Brown Café (bruin café, the Dutch pub): The brown café, so named for the nicotine-stained walls, the patina of centuries, is the essential Amsterdam eating experience. Café Hoppe (Spui, open since 1670) serves bitterballen, cheese (oude kaas, aged Gouda, the calcium crystals crunching between your teeth), and beer (the house beer, the Hoppe Blond, brewed for the café) at wooden tables that have been occupied by Dutch writers, artists, and drinkers for 350 years. The floor is rutted from boots. The bar is held together by tradition. The cheese, order the “kaasplankje” (cheese board, €8-12), three or four varieties of Dutch cheese, served with mustard and the small, sweet Amsterdam pickles (Amsterdamse uitjes), is the taste of the city. Café ‘t Smalle (Jordaan, a 1786 jenever distillery converted to a café in the 1970s, the terrace on the Prinsengracht canal seating twenty) serves the same food with a canal view. The jenever (Dutch gin, served in a tulip glass filled to the absolute brim, the first sip taken without hands, lean down, sip the surface, then pick up the glass) is the ritual.

The Indonesian Rijsttafel (Rice Table): The Dutch colonised Indonesia for 350 years, and the culinary legacy, the rijsttafel, is a feast of 12-25 small dishes: satay (chicken skewers with peanut sauce), rendang (slow-cooked beef in coconut milk and spices, the dry curry of Sumatra), sambal goreng tempeh (fermented soybean cake in chilli), gado-gado (blanched vegetables with peanut dressing). The rijsttafel was invented by the Dutch colonists as a way to sample the full range of Indonesian cuisine in a single meal; it is an act of cultural appropriation and culinary genius, and it is one of the most distinctive dining experiences in Europe. Restaurant Blauw (Amstelveenseweg, book 3-4 days ahead, the rijsttafel from €35 per person) is the best in the city. Kantjil & de Tijger (Spuistraat, more casual, the rijsttafel €28-35) is the accessible alternative. The spice level, you will be asked, is not a challenge. Choose medium. The Dutch-Indonesian “mild” is spicier than most British “hot.” You have been warned.

Surinamese Roti (Amsterdam’s Other Colonial Legacy): Suriname, a former Dutch colony on the northeastern coast of South America, has given Amsterdam one of its most distinctive street foods: roti, a flatbread served with curried chicken, potatoes, long beans, and a boiled egg, the dish a fusion of Indian, Javanese, and Creole influences brought to the Netherlands by Surinamese immigrants after independence in 1975. Roopram Roti (Eerste van Swindenstraat, a Surinamese institution, the roti roll €7-9) serves the definitive version. The roti roll, the curry wrapped in the roti, the whole thing the size of a small football, is lunch for two days. The hot sauce is optional. Do not be a hero. The chilli (Madame Jeanette, a Scotch bonnet relative, the heat level genuine) is applied with a generosity that assumes you know what you are asking for.

The Herring Stall (Hollandse Nieuwe): The raw herring, brined, not cooked, the silvery skin glistening, served with chopped onion and a slice of pickle, is the taste of the Dutch summer. The herring season (May-July, when the fish are at their fattiest) is a national event; the first barrel of Hollandse Nieuwe is auctioned for charity (the 2024 barrel sold for €113,500, the proceeds going to a cancer research foundation), and the herring stalls across the city, Frens Haringhandel on the Albert Cuypmarkt, the herring stall on the Koningsplein, do a brisk trade in fish eaten on paper plates, standing up, in the street. The traditional method, by the tail, head tilted back, the herring lowered into the mouth, is the tourist photograph. The more dignified method, sliced, with toothpicks, the onion and pickle on the side, is the local way. The taste is clean, saline, and fresh; the texture is silky; the experience is not like any fish you have eaten before.