Thanks to its colonialist history, Surinamese cuisine is quite common in Amsterdam (the history of colonialism is pretty horrifying, but at the very least some good food came out of it. So… glass half full?).
I’d heard good things about the pom sandwich at Tokoman — pom is basically a mash consisting of a sweet potato-esque root vegetable called arrowleaf elephant ear root, with pieces of chicken mixed in along with some spices.
It’s basically a mush sandwich, but it’s surprisingly good. It’s sweet, with the unique spices adding some complexity, and the chicken adding substance. The very fresh baguette was absolutely perfect, with the delicately crispy exterior adding a nice contrast to the soft filling.
I’ve written before about how I’m powerless to resist a line-up for food. Yes, some restaurants can be over-hyped, but generally speaking if a place is popular enough to generate a long line, the food is probably pretty good.
So I got pretty excited when I saw the line at the Green Bench Cafe, a takeout joint (or “takeaway,” as they call it here) that’s well known for its sandwiches. I mean, look at this crowd:
All those people can’t be wrong!
Or maybe they can. I got the beef brisket sandwich, and it wasn’t bad — there was actually a lot about it that I quite liked. But the beef (and you can’t really tell from the picture, but there was a lot of it) was super dry. It was somewhat jerky-esque. It kinda sucks all the moisture out of your mouth.
I’m starting to think that you can add haggis to literally anything, and that thing will be improved. Because so far I’ve had haggis with breakfast, haggis on a pork sandwich, haggis in puff pastry, and haggis in a burrito, and they’ve all been surprisingly delicious.
The latest haggis mashup? Haggis with grilled cheese (or a toastie, as it’s known in the UK).
I had this at a place in Glasgow called Dean’s, and it comes with haggis, cheddar cheese, grainy mustard, and Branston Pickle (which is essentially a sweet British chutney).
This might have been my favourite of the various haggis dishes I’ve had so far. The haggis adds a meaty substance to the delightfully gooey cheese, the mustard adds a nice zingy counterpoint, and the sweet Branston Pickle cuts through the richness.
Like the burrito, I sort of expected this to be a bit of a novelty, and was surprised at how much I enjoyed it.
Having had surprisingly amazing burgers in Germany and England, I was ready for the burger at Bread Meats Bread to be similarly mind-blowing. It’s one of those places that comes up regularly in “best of the city” lists, so I figured that I was in for a treat.
Yeah, not so much.
Looks good, doesn’t it? If only it tasted even close to as good as it looked.
It was surprisingly lousy — the patties were rubbery and tough, with almost zero beefy flavour. Aside from the fact that the grind was way too fine, I’m assuming they mixed salt directly into the ground beef, which transforms the texture of the meat into something closer to a sausage.
I mean, look at the picture of the burger’s midsection. Note how the patties are stiff as a board. That’s just wrong.
If it weren’t for the other two burgers I’ve had on this trip, I’d write this off as “well, I guess Europeans just don’t understand hamburgers,” but clearly they do. In particular, the cheeseburger I had in England would probably be in the top ten burgers I’ve had in my life. So what’s the deal?
There’s a Mexican joint in Edinburgh called Los Cardos that sells a burrito filled with haggis. It sounds like it should be a gimmicky abomination, but it’s actually surprisingly tasty.
It’s just a standard-issue burrito otherwise — it’s filled with typical burrito ingredients like rice, beans, salsa, and cheese… plus haggis. It shouldn’t work. It should probably be horrible. But it isn’t.
Texturally, the haggis is fairly similar to ground beef, which is obviously a fairly typical burrito filling. And the distinctive haggis seasoning melds surprisingly well with the Mexican flavours.
Sometimes, when you eat a weird dish like this, the reaction is “well, that was pretty good, but I’d never eat it again.” But if haggis were a standard burrito filling, I’d be eating it all the time. It’s great.
There’s not a whole lot that you can absolutely, positively count on in this world, but here’s one thing: when a restaurant has this on display in their front window, I’m gonna be going inside that restaurant.
If there’s a more glorious sight in the world, I’d like to see it.
Oink, as you might imagine, specializes in pork sandwiches. One of the more interesting things about it are the add-ons to the sandwich; to go with the pork, you can either choose from a sage and onion topping, or haggis. I went with haggis, because I’m in Scotland, so obviously.
You also get your choice of sauce; I had mine topped with mustard mayo.
It’s a pretty great sandwich — the pork is very simply spiced, allowing its natural flavours to shine through, and it’s nice and tender while still maintaining some texture (some sandwiches like this have a tendency to be one-note mushy). The haggis and the mayo do a great job of complimenting the pork, but still allowing it to be the star of the show. It’s quite good.
HOWEVER. They get minus infinity points for having all that glorious crispy skin on display and then not including any in the sandwich. I guess you have to ask for it? That’s ridiculous. You’re ridiculous, Oink. Where’s my crispy skin??
Yes, I ate another burger, but in my defense I dare you to watch this video and not immediately want to eat that hamburger.
(And I actually tried to eat the second burger in that video — which tantalizingly features a layer of black pudding between the two patties — but alas, it seems to have been removed from that restaurant’s menu.)
The burger I got is from a place called Burger and Beyond, which is in the Camden Market, a really interesting outdoor food court of sorts along a river.
Look at the crust on those patties! A thing of beauty.
And the burger itself was absolutely fantastic — cheesy, beefy, juicy and amazing. I awkwardly sawed it in half with a fork so I could get a view of its midsection, and I mean, look at that.
If I were reviewing it for Tasty Burgers, I’d give it four out of four. It could have been slightly juicier and beefier, but that’s a very minor complaint for a superlative hamburger.
When I was at the Borough Market, I noticed one vendor selling a duck confit sandwich that looked so good, I had to go back.
I mean, look at that griddle full of meat. I want to shrink myself down so I can dive in like Scrooge McDuck into his money bin. Of course I went back to try the sandwich.
The sandwich has some greens and some kind of sweet onion jam, but what really matters is that tender, crispy, greasy duck. They let it sit on the hot griddle long enough to get nicely browned throughout, giving you a really generous amount of crispy bits interspersed throughout the tender meat.
Situated underneath some train tracks, the Borough Market is really distinctive and absolutely crammed with vendors selling delicious food. My kind of place.
It’s also surprisingly enormous. It’s the kind of place where you think you’ve seen everything, then oh wait, there’s another corner over there with about a dozen dessert vendors.
There were a ridiculous amount of places I would have been happy eating at, but since I had heard good things about the chorizo sandwich at Brindisa, that’s what I went with.
Featuring zingy chorizo sausage, a slice of roasted red pepper, peppery arugula, and enough good quality extra virgin olive oil to give it a distinctly nutty flavour, this was a sandwich that absolutely did not disappoint. It’s served in a fresh, toasty ciabatta that’s pretty much perfect. It was so good.
I’m a pretty huge fan of stuff like pastrami and Montreal smoked meat, so when I found out that they have something similar in England called salt beef, it instantly shot to the top of my list of things to try.
I went to a place called Beigel Shop to try this, and between the very fresh, slightly chewy bagel and the ultra-tender salt beef, this was clearly a sandwich for the ages. The addition of thickly-sliced pickles actually complimented the beef quite well, adding a vinegary sweetness that rounded out the salty, fatty beef.
There’s also an insanely generous amount of meat in the sandwich; at less than five pounds, it’s an absolute steal.