Some people you’ve barely spoken to in five years, and yet you meet up with them again and it feels like you last saw them yesterday. Those are the easy, effortless friendships that time and distance don’t change. And yet, despite the familiarity of the relationship, the fact that the meetings are so few and far between means that you want to put your best foot forward: to get dressed up, put some makeup on, and head out to a swish-looking restaurant where you pray that the Amsterdam service isn’t going to embarrass you…
This was the occasion on which I found myself at Zaza’s on Saturday night with an American friend I’d spent every day with a decade or so ago, but hadn’t seen in yonks. In the intervening years, I’d become the Amsterdam Foodie – so the pressure was on to prove my restaurant-choosing credentials. I took a risk picking Zaza’s – I’d never been there before – but it was one that paid off.
The first occurrence after the waitress took our coats was that she offered me an aperitif. Better still, my friend (who’d arrived 15 minutes earlier) was already halfway through her first prosecco by the time I got there. Joy of joys! A restaurant that offers its guests a drink when they walk through the door! It ain’t rocket science, but I could count the number of times it’s happened to me in Amsterdam on the fingers of one hand.
Cottoning on to the fact that we were deeply engrossed in the serious business of catching up on half a decade’s worth of gossip, the waitress asked if we’d like some more time before ordering. Again, the people skills left me almost falling into my (yummy goat’s cheesy) amuse bouche in delighted shock.
Once we finally did get to the ordering part, the dishes were well worth the deliberation. I started with tuna tempura, which looked (if you can imagine this) kind of like deep fried sushi. The tuna was wrapped with ginger and seaweed, battered, deep-fried and cut into cylinders like a maki roll. It came with a soy and sesame dipping sauce and a pungent wasabi mayo. I loved it.
My friend’s veal carpaccio was original, to say the least. With its truffle hues, smoky undertones, sweet beetroot salad and herbal dressing, it was bordering on a gilded lily. But full marks for effort, nonetheless.
Next up, I had plaice stuffed with crab and crayfish, which was a whole lot richer than I’d expected. Not least because it came with a potato croquette, carrot sauce and tarragon butter. Again, the chef could have probably left out one or two elements and the dish would have felt more refined and less try-hard, but it’s difficult to fault trying hard…
For dessert, I chose a classic lemon tart. Plus points for the surprise brûlée topping; minus points for the too-thick, not-crisp-enough pastry. Net result: neutral.
Despite the kitchen’s moments of madness, dinner at Zaza’s was hugely pleasurable – in a large part because of the service, which I cannot praise enough in a city where I’ve frequently wondered whether I need to sing for my supper rather than just turn up with a reservation and a pin card. And given the price point of the restaurant (starters are around €10, mains around the €20 mark), the food isn’t half bad either.
For some reason that eluded me, the restaurant claims its theme is “Absolutely Fabulous” (don’t let this put you off – I didn’t see anything that reminded me of Patsy and Edina’s wardrobes). Whether the restaurant actually is as fabulous as it claims to be is for you to decide – but it’s certainly trying its very best to be.
