High-low mix | RIJKS, Amsterdam

Things are happening in Amsterdam. New things, I mean. Things have always happened here, ever since the city was founded as a fishing village in the late 12th century, developing at pace around a dam in the Amstel river, hence the name. They were a giant of export trade – fish, tiles, cheese, tulips and millions of bicycles. They dug canals, built a Royal Palace and then a sex museum and a penis fountain, and installed a stretch of neon-lit windows, smothered today in the greasy fingerprints of boys on tour. Things have always been tulipy.

The Dutch are credited for bringing the waffle to the US, but it was Cornelius Swartwout of Troy, New York, who invented the waffle iron in 1869

Dutch food, though. Yes, quite. I’ll give you a moment. Anything? If you said waffles, then you’re wrong. You’re probably picturing stroopwafel, a thin, round, criss-cross-designed cookie made by pressing two layers between a gooey caramel filling. This was first made in the city of Gouda in south Holland. The typical and traditional grid-patterned waffle was probably Greek or Roman. Both used flat cakes and batter, cooked between metal plates fixed to long wooden handles. The Greeks called these obelios, and the Romans oublies (using grain flour and water). In the 15th century, the Dutch introduced rectangular plates with a grid pattern using less batter over a greater surface area. According to the Smithsonian magazine, the Dutch are credited for bringing the waffle to the US, but it was Cornelius Swartwout of Troy, New York, who invented the waffle iron in 1869.

Enough waffling from me. At the RIJKS restaurant within the spectacularly-designed Pierre Cuypers Rijksmuseum, there isn’t a waffle or stroopwafel in sight. The large contemporary dining room boasts floor-to-ceiling windows and plenty of framed photographs proudly displaying the restaurant’s many famous chef collaborations – Fergus Henderson, Mauro Colagreco, Jorge Vallejo, Richard Ekkebus, Mitsuharu Tsumura, et al. Moving into the dining room, marble-clad islands reveal the kitchen brigade in action. I peer across as I pass to my table – no waffle irons here. Actually, I don’t recognise any of the newfangled equipment, a shiny, monochrome collection of mixers and modern slicers and dicers. I was expecting food equally as fashionable.

Joris Bijdendijk’s menu champions heritage Dutch produce, which, I’m told, is a thing. Stick with me, and we’ll both learn something. He’s a local boy, leaning on local, sourcing Zeeland oysters, Simmentaler rib-eye and lobsters from Oosterschelde – an estuary and the largest national park in the Netherlands. He adheres to Slow Food ethics, working within a tight-knit supply chain and embracing the connection between people, plate and the planet. Joris regularly visits his suppliers and recently launched the Low Food Lab with Joris Lohman, Samuel Levie and funding from the government. Their ambition is to connect the nation’s supply chain and to investigate how gastronomy and culinary techniques can offer solutions to societal challenges in the food system.

The ‘Rijkstable’ tasting menu offers six signature dishes, plus snacks, pre-dessert and friandises, with an optional wine package that is worth exploring – primarily French and Spanish tipples. With the Low Food Lab practices in action, potentially new, forgotten or undervalued products play a starring role, namely grains, lentils, okara, water and broth. Snacks begin as they often do in such establishments, presenting the chef with an opportunity to flirt with the diner and introduce them with dainty constructions that flex the kitchen muscle.

A hot cabbage broth with nata de coco is a bold start. The attempt to elevate a vegetable as ubiquitous and reminiscent of farts as cabbage takes some doing, strained here to that delicate point of non-flatulent odour while the nata de coco, produced by the fermentation of coconut, gives sweetened depths. The other snack is at the opposite end of the ingredient spectrum to the humble cabbage. Thin slices of daikon, or winter radish, have been shaved and fashioned into tiny horns, inside of which is cubed North Sea langoustine, spiky curry cream and fish roe, articulately presented on crushed ice. Just delightful.

Having started his career at age 16 as a dishwasher, Joris knew from a young age that his future would be behind the stove

Having started his career at age 16 as a dishwasher, Joris knew from a young age that his future would be behind the stove. By 19, he worked under Dutch chef Ron Blaauw at Restaurant Ron Blaauw and was promoted to kitchen chef within six years. He then travelled to Montpellier, where he worked at the renowned Le Jardin des Sens. Taking inspiration from the multiculturalism of Montpellier, he began to study ingredients and their providence in finer detail, drawing comparisons with home. He returned to the Netherlands in 2012 as a chef at restaurant Bridges at Hotel de Grand in Amsterdam before becoming executive chef at RIJKS in 2014.

Onto the menu proper, and there’s scallop with radish, paired with a glass of Grüner Veltliner 2013 from Weinland, Austria; glazed veal sweetbread with bitter lettuce, gingerbread and grapefruit, alongside a glass of French Alsace 2018; and oxtail with wild mushrooms, ‘poffertje‘ and smoked ox heart, with a glass of unusually intense Muchada-Léclapart Univers 2017 from Andalusia. Yikes, talk about sourcing and manipulating a nation’s variety of patch produce. Both the veal and ox are from Lindenhoff Farm in Baambrugge, and mushrooms are foraged locally. A traditional Dutch treat made from buckwheat flour, the poffertje is like a small, fluffy pancake. Here is Joris embracing that Dutch culinary heritage, and his own childhood nostalgia, I was talking about, using a favoured and recognised sweet treat in a savoury recipe. Originating in the Catholic Churches of the southern Netherlands, the poffertje was used by sacramental hosts during the communion ceremony. It is similarly representative for Joris, a central component of his Dutch culinary ceremony.

Liquorice dome with meringue and whey fudge with ‘Oosterschelde’ salt

Then a delicate assembly of dark beetroot-layered millefeuille, served with Tomasu (a sweet and spicy soy sauce brewed in The Netherlands) 24-month beurre blanc and dots of parsley oil, followed by The Holy Trinity of ‘Leidse’ milk, from Leidsche Rijn in the west of Utrecht: Leidsche cheese, a buttermilk sorbet and ‘Blaarkop’ butter cake. The hunky heifers from Leidsche graze amply, and their milk is kept unpasteurised for a nuttier flavour. There are plenty of good reasons to visit Holland, not least for the penis fountain, but principally it’s for the milk and cheese. The Dutch are the world’s largest cheese exporters, sending over 200 million kilos yearly.

A barbecued pear arrives with pear cider ice cream, bay leaf and crème crue, a naturally cultured cream like crème fraîche with a satiny sheen and sour flavour. And there are confectionery treats alongside terrific black coffee: a chocolate-covered liquorice dome on a larger dome with a mini white meringue on top that looks like a black snowman, and there’s a thick strip of absolutely stonking whey fudge, pricked with ‘Oosterschelde’ salt, that melts into rivers of lovely sweet goo, washing between my gums.

I have no idea how RIJKS rates in Amsterdam or against broader Dutch restaurants. Although my dad lived in Haarlem for a time, roughly ten miles from Amsterdam, we never explored the restaurant scene in great depth. That was the early Noughties. However, I suspect few chefs today are doing what Joris is. A set of three-star establishments focus similarly on sustainable regional produce, using fermentation and modern kitchen wizardry to add contemporary twists. Still, Joris’ work with the Low Food Lab sets him apart, and these achievements shine on every plate. While he doesn’t draw foodies like De Librije or Inter Scaldes and an increasing number of Dutch two-stars, he is unquestionably a force for good, rooted in the modernist vanguard behind the evolution of Dutch cuisine – and he’s doing it with cabbage and pears, not waffles. C

RIJKS, Museumstraat 2, Amsterdam, Netherlands
rijksrestaurant.nl; +31 20 674 7555