Please note that since writing this blog post, Willems has closed down
Last night, I made a rare trip to the Oud-Zuid, which reminded me why those trips are (indeed) rare. On the table next to ours at dinner in Willems, sat two Oud-Zuid ladies whose sole mission appeared to be to terrorise their waiter and all the customers around them. They didn’t like the door open, but they didn’t like the smell of food; they thought they could smell smoke around them, but they didn’t want to move; they wanted a bigger table, complaining that we and their neighbours on the other side had four-person tables (we’d booked for four; there were only two of them). And besides – we’re in f*cking Amsterdam; where do you find big tables?
After listening to the Oud-Zuid ladies harass the endlessly patient waiter for a good 15 minutes, I was about ready to stand up and give them a piece of my Westerparker’s mind. As it was, I didn’t, because a) I’m British, and we just don’t do things like that; and b) it was 8.30 in the evening (hence I was starving) and I didn’t want to get us kicked out before we’d even eaten anything.
We started off with six oysters and two slices of pâté (not on the same plate – don’t worry). The oysters came with a cucumber granita and a raw-onion-tabasco-type combo; I did what I always do which is to waste two oysters trying out the fancy dressings and then conclude that I much prefer mine with straight lemon. But, indecisiveness aside, the oysters were excellent, as was the pâté. Slightly sweet, slightly pickled (from the gherkins), the iron-rich meat was well balanced.
For main, I opted for a classic steak tartare, which was perfectly pleasant though not up there with some of the versions I’ve eaten in France. No egg yolk on the side, and all of the finely chopped raw veges had been pre-mixed into the beef, which I think takes away some of the fun of the dish. It came with chips and mayo, which were fine but I thought I’d read truffle mayonnaise on the menu. Slightly disappointed, I re-consulted the menu – the truffle was nowhere to be seen. Am I just imagining food these days?
Who knows. Anyway, an extra friend turned up at this point, so we had to order dessert to keep her company. The brûlée element of my crème brûlée was thin, delicate and crispy – just as it should be. The crème part was a little on the meagre side: a thin layer of lightly set egg custard that was missing the all-important vanilla seeds. But all in all, a light, satisfying bite of sweetness.
We drank a refreshing Picpoul de Pinet plus coffee/digestif, and dinner came to around €60 each, which wasn’t bad for the number of courses, drinks and service we had. I guess we were paying for the location, too – but I’d have been happier if Willems’ clientele hadn’t included the local Oud-Zuid ladies.
