As you know, it’s not often that the Amsterdam foodie ventures out of the metropolis (unless, that is, it’s to go to Schiphol). And, while Amsterdam may be my favourite city in the world, the Netherlands is not my favourite country (incidentally, Italy is). If, however, I had to live anywhere else in Holland, it would have to be Maastricht. The food, atmosphere and general civilisation of the city have a distinctly southern feel that can’t help but charm you into a grudging desire to return. I was not displeased, then, when I was sent last week to Maastricht for a client pitch, all expenses paid of course.
My colleague and I rocked up, all business suited and trying to look professional, at Roxy’s: a restaurant with a terrible name and a good reputation that snuggles into the corner of a square dominated by the Kruisherenkerk. The ‘kerk’ bit is misleading because, while the building still looks plausibly church-like from the outside, the entrance promises something a little more sybaritic (sorry, my new favourite word), comprising a bronzed shiny walkway leading to a frankly blasphemous temple of hedonism. Pews are replaced by high-backed red velvet chairs that stretch several metres along the stone walls; altars are exchanged for rows of bottles of fine wines, Mecca for a Bacchanalian like me… and a €12.50 glass of wine seemed no less than obligatory. Incidentally, the rest of the church houses hotel rooms and a restaurant, none of which somehow seem to compromise the fantastically high ceilings and decadent atmosphere of this place of worship (though what one is worshipping is entirely subjective).
But back to Roxy’s, which is where we actually ate. One thing I will say for the provinces: the further you go from Amsterdam the nicer the people are (and the harder to understand, of course). Our waitress was quite stunningly friendly, and then seemed genuinely amazed at the tip we left. Not only that, but it really did feel like we got something for nothing. It was lucky that we’d not chosen the three-course chef’s menu, given that not only an amuse bouche but also a small soup appeared before any of the things we’d actually ordered. We were almost full before we’d even eaten anything we were paying for. The amuse bouche comprised a single crab Maki sushi (susho?!), a deep fried scampi wonton, and a goat’s cheese and roasted vegetable puff pastry roll. A bit fusion for my liking, but all very edible. The soup was a ‘cappuccino’ of lobster bisque, which was topped with an extremely convincing head of foam, but was whose ‘coffee’ was overly salty.