Oude Doelenstraat 1
Amsterdam
Our first morning in Amsterdam saw us feeling rather rough, following a hectic, late, difficult and lost night in which whisky was involved somewhere. And three nipples, for some reason. Probably a witch.
Continuing the "it's my birthday" riff, we went for nourishing noodle soup to chase the cobwebs away, and found what we thought was a casual diner, but turned out to be more restraunty than originally hoped (we were in no condition to act like adults by this stage).
A opted for the roast pork noodle soup. We were trying to interpret from the Dutch menu what the item might be, as it said 'spek', which was probably pork cracklings/fat. Deciding that it might be crackling soup, A bravely went for it. The waitress asked if we really did want to order it, reiterating with a dubious look that "it's very very fatty".
The pork turned out to be very nice, with a decent crackle, but not holding a candle to the Gold Mine version.
I went for the cantonese roast duck soup.
The duck was plentiful, and flavourful, but rather drowned in the noodles. Along with ramen served with tempura, I never really understood roast meat noodle soups: surely everything just gets soggy? The noodles were a little disappointing, being a sort of curly deepfriend then boiled variety reminiscent of instant noodles with more body. The stock was nice, but nothing exceptional.
A pot of excellent chilli oil sat on the table, and was nearly demolished by the two of us.
The damage: €16 for two bowls of noodles. Similar in price to the UK, and quite decent after a night out. Not my top 10, however.
The kitchen is remarkably clean, but this vat of broth was also simmering away happily; it's always a good sign when the soups are made from chickens, rather than a plastic tub.
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