Two weeks ago I was forced into the role of the Restaurant Finder. In Amsterdam. I haven’t even lived in Amsterdam since 1989. Also, we lived at the Weesperplein, which is outside the horseshoe-shaped grachtenring and far away from the stretch of the Singel between the Dam and the central station, where my party was waiting in a hotel for my expert guidance. I should have asked my friend where I had spent the night for help, I should have refused, I, ah well.
If you live in a big city, you will likely pick your restaurants according to one of the following principles: either you say something like “I’ve gone by that new Indian place at the Utrechtsestraat, it actually looks neat, shall we go there and try it?” (we did, and I found a five-inch nail in my curry). Or you say: “I’m too lazy to cook, let’s roll down the stairs and eat Chinese.” Or you are already in the middle of a city stroll when you walk past a promising restaurant; suddenly you feel hungry; you enter. The one thing that probably doesn’t happen too often is that you start walking in order to look for someplace to eat. (more…)