As a result of an unfortunate stroopwafel accident in the bike lanes near Amsterdam's Centraal train station, I broke my glasses and was forced to meander around town during the early evening hours without clear vision or any real depth perception. I was quite worried about getting back to my hotel at the time I walked into a nearby coffee shop for directions, but didn't have a single care in the world when I left. Their pastries cleared my sinuses and helped me forgive my father for not being there for me emotionally when I was a child.
I eventually ended up at Vlaams Friteshuis because, without my glasses, I thought their sign said "Vietnamese Fridays"; which is how I spent the beginning of many weekends with my best friend Cam Ngyuen in junior high school. Cam's mother would would make us banh xeo for our lunchboxes every Friday and we'd speed home after school to play video games late into the evening. Good times.
Despite my error, Vlaams Friteshuis struck an emotional chord with me. It was one of the very best meals I consumed in Amsterdam. The frites were warm, crispy and golden and the mayo/curry topping was absolute heaven. I had two baskets.
I vaguely remember wandering around town sharing my frites with several strangers, and telling each of them that I loved them in Vietnamese, "anh yêu em", but I'm not sure how I got back to my hotel or how a plastic construction barricade and a potted fern ended up in my room. All in all, however, a wonderful evening that was highlighted by new and delicious discoveries.
Thank you Vlaams Friteshuis! read more