old jewish stuff, stroopwafel donuts and a contact high

Portuguese Synagogue and Walking Tour. We spent our second rainy morning in Amsterdam touring the Portuguese Synagogue. Our original guide had taken ill so a stand-in was sent for her. Between his quick and accented pronunciation of his name, none of us caught it, and we were all too embarrassed to ask several minutes in, so we still have no idea what to call him. We're open to suggestion. After [fill in name] navigated with us the somewhat awkward "are these people Jewish?" and "how much do I have to dumb this down?" portion of the talk, we hit a pretty good groove, walking through the traditional Sephardic structure that dates back to 1675.


The most interesting aspects of the synagogue are that there is still a functioning congregation, that it is the only-non Caribbean synagogue with a dirt floor and that the male congregants still wear top hats that look as though they would be just as comfortable hanging with Punxsutawney Phil as they would davening in this four-hundred year old congregation.


[Fill in name] then took us into the neighborhood, which stood at the center of Jewish life here from the early 1600's until the Second World War. Most of the old buildings have been destroyed, the streets torn up and widened, and most of the Jewish community lives elsewhere, but historic remnants remain, including the building that served as an orphanage for Jewish girls. Undoubtedly this is a sign of my being a late 20th Century American Jew, but I had never heard before of a Jewish orphanage. I really had not thought about it, and assumed there would always have been family members somewhere to take in orphaned Jewish children. The older I get, the less I know.

Dutch Nachos. For lunch, we tried Amstelhoeck, a self-described "unique Grand Cafe" near Rembrandtsquare. I'm not sure if the waitress had a problem of language or attitude, but when Keri asked if they had any gluten-free items, she responded with a curt "no." No sort of effort to think of items that might not include wheat, or offer to discuss it with the chef. Just a "no" with a look on her face that said she really could care less. Well, it takes more than that to get us to give up on a mediocre place, damnit, so we persevered. Keri ordered a tuna salad sandwich without the bread. Again, we were told, this was not an option. Again, Keri overcame, ordering the regular sandwich and doing the unheard of separating tuna from bread. Also of note was Owen's order of nachos, which turned out to be a bag of nacho cheese Doritos, dumped into a large piece of crockery, thrown into the oven with some cheddar cheese on top. You know, nachos.

Walking Through Amsterdam. As the weather turned nice, we made sure we stayed outdoors, walking through much of the central city. We tiptoed sheepishly through the Red Light District. We strolled confidently aside stag and bachelorette partiers from England, Spain and Italy. We walked through the thongs of tourists in Dam Square. And we meandered through the more peaceful and scenic canal-side streets of west Amsterdam. We found our way to the Jordaan, and, after stopping for some delicious gelato at Monte Pelmo we decided to walk back to our hotel, via Vondelpark, which seemed to inhabit just about every resident of the city on this sunny afternoon. All in all, a lovely way to spend the day.

Indian Food and More Ice Cream. Continuing our food tour of Asian cuisines, we ate dinner at Swagat, Indian restaurant near Hotel Twenty Eight. Our kids are generally averse to Indian food at home. So, to repeat, a big virtue of traveling is having your kids expand their horizons, even if those horizons involve cuisine having little to do with the place you are staying. And, expanding horizons merits a reward, this one being a second trip to Da Vinci Amsterdam, a small shop on the plaza next to the hotel. (Almost a smile, Owen.)

Jewish Historical Museum. After a much-needed sleep-in, we got a late start today at the Jewish Historical Museum, located in a converted Ashkenazic synagogue that pre-dates the Portuguese one by three years. This museum is not large, but it really packs a lot in a small space, providing a compelling telling of the Jews of Amsterdam and the Netherlands, particularly between 1600 and 1900. Among the unique artifacts are a collection of haggadot used in the 17th and 18th centuries (plague illustrations included at no extra charge).

Amsterdam has always been a very tolerant city. That laissez faire attitude dates back to the early 17th Century, when Jews were more welcome here than in most parts of Western Europe. With economic opportunity, the Jewish community in Amsterdam flourished.
























Some Good Old Fashioned American Cuisine. Continuing his endeavor to hit a McDonalds in every country, Owen made sure he got to one on our last full day here. (That is an actual smile, folks.) Lauren, spotting a Dunkin Donuts across the street, decided to get a taste of home too, sort of, with a stroopwafel donut. Keri, fighting through another cold afternoon in a country with small coffees, made a beeline for a Starbucks, and the comfort of an American sized almond milk cappuccino.

No Van Gogh, Time for Moco. We had hoped to make it to the Van Gogh Museum for a couple hours, but it was sold out by the time we arrived. After some hemming and hawing what to do next, Keri took control and led us into the Moco Museum, a modern art museum between Van Gogh and the Rijksmuseum. Moco has on permanent display pieces from Andy Warhol, Keith Harring and Jean-Michel Basquiat, among others. The museum currently has exhibitions on Daniel Arsham and Banksy. I had a vague appreciation for Banksy walking in the door, and a much more profound one coming out. His art is extremely clever, effective and provocative.



















Another Gluten-Free Pasta Place! Keri will be damned if she does not find the best gluten-free pasta in every city we visit. Our final Amsterdam dinner found us enjoying the warm service and excellent food at Due Napoletani Ristorante. Truly outstanding focaccia and pasta. I felt compelled to get the house special, Pasta al Parmigiano, a spinach pasta flambeed with whiskey in a 40kg parmesan cheese, served with red sauce and topped with more parmesan cheese. As Keri remarked, it would be hard for that dish not to be good, with all that damn parmesan. The owners, Nunzio and Haidi, claim the dish is the best outside Italia. I cannot say they are wrong.

Final Thoughts on Amsterdam. It might just be the contact high talking now, but we really enjoyed our short stay here. Amsterdam has a different look and feel to it. One waitress aside, the people have been embarrassingly nice. The houses and shops and offices along the canals, and those along the streets, are charming. There is an astounding amount of history and culture and charm shoved into this small place. Once you get away from the Vegas-esque sections of town, you will find a place well worth visiting. We look forward to coming back.