The halal soul of Amsterdam’s food scene
Forget stroopwafels and frites, Indonesian and Surinamese specialities are the best things you can eat in the Netherlands
Thanks to Eurostar’s direct service from London to Amsterdam, the Dutch capital is less than a five-hour train ride away from St Pancras station. That means the halal eats of this city of canals and coffee shops (where coffee is not the only thing that’s served) are just as accessible as those in Glasgow or Edinburgh if you live in the south of England.
A few months ago I booked a couple tickets for £39 each way as an act of rebellion against the extortionate summer holiday flight prices that being both a parent and the spouse of a teacher have condemned me to.
Other than being an absurdly pretty place and a cycling utopia, Amsterdam serves up some seriously good food. Forget the frites, stroopwafels, poffertjes and that TikTok-viral halal Korean rib-eye sandwich from Chun. This column is all about the real culinary soul of the city — its Indonesian and Surinamese food.
The relationship between the Netherlands and Indonesia, which remained the largest Dutch colony until 1949, goes all the way back to the 17th-century spice trade. As a result, Indonesian dishes have been adopted by the Dutch in much the same way that South Asian cuisine has in the UK. Restaurants abound in cities across the country and supermarket aisles are filled with authentic ingredients.
Located in the heart of Amsterdam, a stone’s throw from Centraal station, lies the small and intimate Satay Club. Its simple menu, prepared in an open kitchen that runs the length of the restaurant, is based around three fragrant skewered options: chicken, lamb or tempeh. All can be served with a pickled cucumber salad, cassava crackers and accompanying sauce for between €10.50 and €14 (£8.65-£12), or with the addition of rice and green beans for €18.50 (£16).
Having visited Indonesia on holiday a few years ago, I’ve tried many different varieties of satay, from goat to tuna, but I’m not sure any have been as quite good as the selection I had at Satay Club. The lamb was tender, juicy and deeply flavourful, perfectly balancing with the peanut dipping sauce. The chicken — usually a safe, but less inspiring option — was succulent and impeccably spiced.
The fact that I returned within 48 hours for round two probably says more than any words can, but I do have to give a special mention to the spekkoek. This Dutch-Indonesian layered cake, spiced with cinnamon, clove, mace and anise has all the flavours of a perfectly brewed cup of masala chai. What’s not to love about that?
Rijsttafel — the Dutch-Indonesian rice table — is a staple tradition of the Amsterdam food scene. Typically formed of around 12 dishes comprising sweet, sour, spicy, salty and bitter flavour profiles, the format offers diners a full tasting-menu-style experience.
Blauw, a bright, modern halal restaurant in the Vondelpark area, serves up one of the city’s best takes. Available for a minimum of two people and priced from €39.50 (£34) per head for the vegan option to €47.50 (£41) for a fully omnivorous version featuring fish, meat and vegetable dishes, it’s an immersive and incredibly filling way to spend an evening.
Expect classics such as beef rendang, various satays, nasi goreng and gado-gado — a hearty, crunchy salad with a rich peanut dressing. The restaurant opens for evening dinner service only from 5pm and runs occasional sambal workshops at €75 (£64) for diners who want to recreate some of the punchy condiments in their own homes.
Plenty more restaurants across the city offer their own halal rijstafels at a range of price points, including Mama Makan at the Hyatt hotel at €45 (£39) per person and Kartika in the Oud-West district at a more competitive €34.90 (£30) per person.
Another unique element of Amsterdam’s culinary culture comes from the north-west coast of South America. Suriname is a small nation that fell under Dutch rule from the 17th century to 1975. It is also considered part of the Caribbean and a large proportion of its modern-day residents are descended from the enslaved Africans and indentured South Asian workers who fuelled the colonial economy. Now, the country is extremely diverse, with no clear majority group, but includes significant Javanese and Chinese communities. All of those influences are reflected in its food.
The Surinamese eateries in Amsterdam are similarly varied, with some specialising in Chinese-Surinamese staples and others concentrating on Indian and Javanese halal dishes. Spang Makandra, established in 1978, is one of the oldest and most popular halal spots. This bustling restaurant in the Oude Pijp district has recently expanded a few doors down from its original home to accommodate an ever-growing clientele.
When I visited, it was packed with families, couples on date nights, groups of friends and solo diners of all backgrounds. The menu includes familiar Indonesian items such as rendang, satay, and gado-gado. I would skip them — better versions are available elsewhere — and focus on its rotis, served with flavourful meat, vegetable or seafood curries. We ordered the nasi rames (€17.50, £15), beef rendang (€13, £11.20) and the vegetable roti (€14, £12). The roti’s curry sauce was the star — thick, subtly spiced, bolstered with potatoes and boiled eggs, and begging to be mopped up with those flaky Caribbean-style flatbreads.
At lunchtime, it also serves a range of substantial sandwiches, including the Dutch-Surinamese classic pom — a casserole of chicken, gentle spices and a root vegetable known as pomtajer, served in a long roll — for just €5.50 (£4.75). Unfortunately, I just didn’t have time or room for one, but I’ve bookmarked several more Surinamese restaurants and their signature dishes for a return visit soon. After all, Satay Club has been living rent free in my head from the very first skewer.
