1 post tagged “kaiko sushi amsterdam khorat”

The reviews I read of this restaurant heap praise upon praise for this little Japanese restaurant in the Oud Zuid. Two of my colleagues were eager to tell me how good it was and to reassure me that "lots of Japanese people are always there." 

Why I let myself get hopeful...such is the the rollercoaster of an optimist.

I rode my bike from Station Zuid through Beatrix Park, around the RAI, and headed into the heart of the languid Oud Zuid scored on its southern edge by boulevards called Rooseveltlaan, President Kennedylaan, and Churchillaan. I entered the  restaurant through a drawn half curtain to see Michael already seated, his face flush from his own frigid bike ride.

Greeting us on the table were the traditional heated moist washclothes, a dish of pickled ginger and another dish cradling three choice and sizeable cubes of salmon marinated in teriyaki. Famished, like I am most of my waking hours, I wolfed down the appetite-whetting salmon, finding moments between bites to spit out a few words in Michael's direction asking him about his day.  The salmon was delicious and I felt encouraged.

The thing that makes me feel bad about what I am about to write is that the staff at Kaiko were very nice. The waitresses were attentive but not eager, friendly (and so unsettlingly soft spoken it made me think they could either be uncomfortably demure or seething with rage) and each dish was offered to us in perfect timing. The presentation was basic but fine. And we felt relaxed, seated in our wooden booth perched atop simple cushions.  These are people who clearly know what they are doing. So the fact that more than half of what I ordered remained half-eaten on my plates, combined with the rave reviews this restaurant got in both publications and from personal recommendations, only leads me to believe that this restaurant has chosen to victimize the Dutch by exploiting their low expectations for quality dining, and has no problem charging exorbitant prices for the experience.

Ok, here's the play by play.

The vegetable tempura. Good lord was I looking forward to this. Coming in from the cold only deepened my disappointment.  The batter was too-pale and barely crisp. As the steam rose from the vegetables it started to make the batter doughy and soggy.  I've made tempura before in my own kitchen and it sucked--tempura batter requires an artful, delicate, and skillful technique and timing. So I know how to make sucky tempura and this restaurant came close. This vegetable tempura plate cost 12 euros and we were presented with two strips of yam, two onion slices which were cut thicker than anyone would ever care to eat, two slices of eggplant and two greenbeans.

Miso soup:.  My cup of miso soup was served with one of those spoons you would use to eat udon noodles in broth. I thought this was weird .I have always just swirled the bits in my soup with my chop sticks, eaten it, and then sipped the soup straight out of the cup. Isn't this how it is always done? The tofu in the miso soup was not firm enough and felt slimy.

The Sashimi:  Here's the real heartbreaker. I knew that the salmon was farm-raised just by looking at it lying there pale and limp on the plate. I put it in my mouth and endured the mushy character of this version of salmon that is nearly impossible to avoid in the Netherlands. The only thing that spared the salmon a final resting place in the center of my napkin was the fact that it was lying on a lemon wedge. All the sashimi I ate was lying on a lemon wedge. The acid from the lemon juice helped and I was grateful for it.  

The tuna was artfully sliced into long rectangles that displayed a gradient evolution in color from medium-ruby red on one end to gray on the other. This is typical of the quality of tuna found in Holland. To make a statement, I bit off just the red part and left the cement-colored other half on my plate. The thing that really killed me about this is that I could see the choice center cut of the deep ruby red part of the fish on display in the case between the sushi chef and the seated bar. Maybe the trick is to only sit at the bar at sushi joints in Holland so you can do a personal and intimate check on quality control.

The shirmp were tiny, flaccid, and translucent. The thing that was weird about this is that the preparation of these morsels was totally consistent between what Michael ordered and what I ordered so I know that it was done deliberately. Maybe my palette isn't refined enough to enjoy raw shrimp.  

The dorado, seabass, and some other white fish,  the breed of which I didn't catch:  These were edible, save for the last.  On my plate were four slices of sashimi buried under an avalanche of mayonnaise, then coated generously with orange roe. Was this some sort of perverse version of Japanese fish 'n' chips? Does raw fish drowning in mayonnaise sound appealing to you?   The dutch are famous for frites served with "frites sauce" which is a slightly tangy and sweet version of mayo. Was this the restaurant's idea of fusion?

The Sushi: We stuck with the basics here and ordered eel, California rolls, tamago, and squid (the Dutch word for "squid"  is "inkvis" which means "inkfish" which I think is cute).  The eel was the best thing, or should I say, the least worst thing, we were served that night.

To my immense surprise, the California rolls had real crab rather than imitation: a first in this, the fourth or fifth sushi experience I have had in the Netherlands. However, the diameter of the California roll was enormous--far larger than the standard futomaki preparation. Spare tire, anyone?  It was impossible to get all the flavors of this roll in your mouth at once. Also, this is the first California roll I have ever had where the nori wrapped the outside of the roll, rather than the rice. This in combination with its girth made it impossible to pick up with any sort of grace.

The tamago also remained bitten-into and abandoned. We received two pieces, presented in the shape of little bricks sandwiching the rice rather than in the traditional nigiri style of a single layer of egg on top of a bed of rice then wrapped and bound in a ribbon of nori. The omelet was not well blended, there were flecks of egg white throughout, and the consistency was dreadfully watery. 

Our bill was 100 euros. At the end of our dinner, our conversation turned toward food and how much we still wanted it.  

There were indeed two tables seating Japanese diners last night. One was a table of four businessmen who were loud, getting drunk, and having what looked to be in general a very good time with each other enjoying an after-work repose. The sushi seemed to be the last priority or intention of their visit to Kaiko. The other was also a table of four: three japanese women in the company of one dutch man, who had clearly escorted them there based on the restaurant's reputation. The women picked at edamame and conversed with each other in Japanese doing their utmost to ignore their host.

I have had sushi in Brussels and it was also expensive but generous and excellent. It's possible to have really great sushi in northern Europe, but I doubt it exists anywhere in the Netherlands. 

On a positive note, the Thai place around the corner from my house, Khorat, is great.