Forgot to photograph the broodje haring and the broodje paling we ate while standing at the counter in the fish shop, so here are some photos of ones that were enjoyed on Minnie's previous visit to Amsterdam.
Really great. The herring has a creaminess to it that freaks some people
out, so it's not for everyone.
Good thing we're not everyone.
We also failed to photograph, and subsequently failed to enjoy, a plate of fried mussels and a fried sardine that wasn't really a sardine.
Lizette hung out with us on our last full day in town. We forgot to photograph most of the wonderful places she took us. Oops. Sadly no photos of Suzy either. Suzy is Lizette's silent and docile aging Yorkie, who goes everywhere with Lizette in a torn canvas doggy bag. Like the best of roommates, Suzy does a good job of staying invisible most of the time.
So, with Suzy as our mascot, we crashed a party at Mark and Mara's. They fed us all kinds of good stuff including Carolina-style bbq pulled pork sandwiches and pizza with lemon and pepper (not lemon pepper, which makes Mara unhappy) and caramelized onions.
Mark was working on the buffalo wings when we felt ourselves turning back into pumpkins, so we stumbled off.
During our last lunch in Amsterdam, Nick was lamenting having missed out on frites with tangy Belgian-style mayo. Klary and Dennis decided that this was the perfect time to torment us further by telling us all about bitterballen, or "meat sauce balls". Bitterballen (and kroketten, which are larger and served on a bun) are basically shreds of leftover roast beef bound by a thick bechamel, formed into balls or croquettes, then breaded and fried. Served with mustard.
We were devastated that we'd have to leave without tasting them.
But after we reached our gate at Schiphol, we were told that our flight to Lisboa was delayed by a few hours. Klary suggested that we might get lucky and find bitterballen at an airport bar.
We did get lucky.
And then we got lucky again.
And then we got full.
Eventually, we got to Lisboa. But we got seriously lost in the cobbled streets of the Old Town trying to find our guesthouse. So by the time we checked in at half past ten, we really deserved a drink.
"A drink" ended up being several half bottles of Portuguese wine during our long-anticipated dinner at old school steakhouse Cafe de Sao Bento, across from the Parliament. Famous for their bife a marrare, which is steak (either filet or sirloin) in a pepper cream sauce. Fried egg optional.
The space is fantastic-- red velvet, dark wood, smoked glass. The service was perfect. The 100% Portuguese wine list rocks. They serve dinner nightly until 2am, and we stayed until closing.
Actually, we loved everything about the place except for the food.
The steaks were weird.
The server and the chef.
...
Walking around, day two. "Free your brain."
Literally, "God's Bread".
Literally not very good though. We sat on a park bench and shared it, and made a lot of faces. It was like stale brioche with a hardened crust of petrified coconut.
Nick became obsessed with these scented dolls.
We could smell them through the glass.
 |
| Raw herring with onions and pickles on a soft roll. |
Good thing we're not everyone.
We also failed to photograph, and subsequently failed to enjoy, a plate of fried mussels and a fried sardine that wasn't really a sardine.
 | ||||
| Smoked eel on a roll. |
 | ||||||
Lizette hung out with us on our last full day in town. We forgot to photograph most of the wonderful places she took us. Oops. Sadly no photos of Suzy either. Suzy is Lizette's silent and docile aging Yorkie, who goes everywhere with Lizette in a torn canvas doggy bag. Like the best of roommates, Suzy does a good job of staying invisible most of the time.
So, with Suzy as our mascot, we crashed a party at Mark and Mara's. They fed us all kinds of good stuff including Carolina-style bbq pulled pork sandwiches and pizza with lemon and pepper (not lemon pepper, which makes Mara unhappy) and caramelized onions.
Mark was working on the buffalo wings when we felt ourselves turning back into pumpkins, so we stumbled off.
During our last lunch in Amsterdam, Nick was lamenting having missed out on frites with tangy Belgian-style mayo. Klary and Dennis decided that this was the perfect time to torment us further by telling us all about bitterballen, or "meat sauce balls". Bitterballen (and kroketten, which are larger and served on a bun) are basically shreds of leftover roast beef bound by a thick bechamel, formed into balls or croquettes, then breaded and fried. Served with mustard.
We were devastated that we'd have to leave without tasting them.
But after we reached our gate at Schiphol, we were told that our flight to Lisboa was delayed by a few hours. Klary suggested that we might get lucky and find bitterballen at an airport bar.
We did get lucky.
And then we got lucky again.
And then we got full.
Eventually, we got to Lisboa. But we got seriously lost in the cobbled streets of the Old Town trying to find our guesthouse. So by the time we checked in at half past ten, we really deserved a drink.
"A drink" ended up being several half bottles of Portuguese wine during our long-anticipated dinner at old school steakhouse Cafe de Sao Bento, across from the Parliament. Famous for their bife a marrare, which is steak (either filet or sirloin) in a pepper cream sauce. Fried egg optional.
The space is fantastic-- red velvet, dark wood, smoked glass. The service was perfect. The 100% Portuguese wine list rocks. They serve dinner nightly until 2am, and we stayed until closing.
Actually, we loved everything about the place except for the food.
The steaks were weird.
The server and the chef.
...
Walking around, day two. "Free your brain."
 |
| Pão de Deus |
Literally not very good though. We sat on a park bench and shared it, and made a lot of faces. It was like stale brioche with a hardened crust of petrified coconut.
Nick became obsessed with these scented dolls.
We could smell them through the glass.
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