Two new bakeries in Amsterdam? Saddle up!
This city isn't short of excellent bakeries but two new openings raise the quality even further.
Amsterdam is a city that likes what it likes. And it likes nothing more than sandwich shops, coffee shops and bakeries.
On a recent walk down Bilderdijkstraat, I noticed three new coffee shops. Bilderdijkstraat is already filled with them. By the time I finish writing this piece, another will have opened and I can guarantee you it’ll look the same as the others: minimalist, up-lit, like a prohibitively expensive clinic in Switzerland that injects baboon spunk into your collagen-depleted cheeks.
Then, there’s the sandwich shop. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m over sandwiches. Hold up! I mean artisanal sandwiches, the €12.50 kind, made of 10% filling and 90% bread. Focaccia is delicious but lord knows, other bread types do exist. I know that Dutch cuisine is big on the sandwich but these shops don’t feel like they’re speaking to that particular culinary tradition. If anything, I’d LOVE to see a place other than Albert Heijn selling kaasbroodje, the real kind, made of fluffy bread and triangles of salty Gouda. What about kroketbroodje? Why don’t we have holes-in-the-walls selling these? There’s a reason Fort Negen’s went so viral. Big question: I couldn’t help but wonder if, in the pursuit of Instagram-friendly, briefcase-sized, artisanal sandwiches, Amsterdam has forgotten their less sexy but truer form?
But bakeries, I’m always happy to see more of them, especially in less central neighbourhoods. Bakeries are, to me, the modern day equivalent of a town square, offering you staples (bread, coffee, groceries) and luxuries (exquisite pastries) as well as being a place to socialise and exchange ideas (read: talk shit about sandwiches). They’re hubs for our hoods and I’m not, as of yet, bored of their offering. I can always choose not to go to a bakery, they don’t limit the market in the same way that sandwich shops do. Frankly it’s tricky to find other lunch options in the city (it’s near-impossible to find a sit-down option).
Anyway, enough of this irrational, heatwave-induced rage about lunch food. Let’s check out Amsterdam’s two new offerings instead. Papillon is a new bakery-café in a long, red-bricked space on sun-drenched, hopeful road. It’s a canal or two over from NDSM and it’s hyper-typical of Noord: the expansiveness of its premises allows the business to open in all directions, like a paper fan flung open. At its heart it’s a bakery, but it’s also a brunch spot, lunch spot, bar and restaurant, with plans to offer working space too. It’s a seven-day-a-week, morning-to-evening enterprise (with a few early week exceptions) and it clearly wants to be something for everyone. An inn for the new age, you might say (literally why would you say this though?).
Papillon’s multifacetedness is impressive considering it’s only been open a month. Most bakeries I’ve worked at have at least staggered this approach, opening first at the weekends, then through the week, bringing lunch service in at a much later date. There’s very little about Papillon that feels green. The interiors, for one, are impressively done: a beet-red floor reaches up its concrete walls, making me feel enveloped; a ceiling panel adds texture and terracotta warmth; hints of blue remind me of the ocean. There’s something Balearic about the bakery, though I did visit on what I’m sure will be the hottest day of the year (it felt like the hottest day of the century). Outside, there was a huge sofa covered by a pristine umbrella. Tables lined the patio on a sharp step up from the road as if there were lapping waves beneath.
There were croissants, loaves, a luminous raspberry cake. Shelves were packed with expensive groceries: wine bottles with designer labels, cloudy olive oil, cans of mushroom-infused cocoa from Reclaem – which, by the way, I very much rate. It’s a serious cocoa, tasting ancient and uncompromising, but half a spoonful of brown sugar sweetens the deal in case you prefer it that way. Anyway, at Papillon I ordered a flatbread with smoked salmon, poached eggs and hollandaise, happy to have a brunch classic. I also treated myself to a splat of cookie.
Flatbread might be an odd choice for eggs benny but it was smart, being soft enough to soak up my yolk (perfectly cooked) while retaining just enough bite (English muffins with hollandaise can so easily depress into a soggy mess) but also not too much bite like some teeth-shattering sourdoughs. I ate it, plate-lickingly, feeling totally at home in the space. The cookie was a glorious lump of just-cooked dough, meaty in build and not too sweet, layered with a surprise of white chocolate as well as your more regular kinds. I was delighted.
Before I left, I took a quick tour of the space, past the bar, through the restaurant, sneaking a peek at the focaccia being stretched. The café will be churning out softijs soon, with final tests underway. I was sad to leave. I know I bang on about community but it’s important to me, especially in later – okay, fine – middle life. I want to visit places frequently, to say hi to people I sort of know, even if I can’t quite remember their names. For an immigrant, freelance writer, those small interactions are important. In Amsterdam’s busy bakery scene, this, I think, is how to get ahead: not by pursuing crumb or crust but by treating your customers with a damn friendly smile. Papillon scored top marks for that.
Next up, Aden’s, a patisserie in Nieuw-West that’s been generating local buzz. I was told they’d been selling out most days, so I went a little earlier, cycling before the sun had a chance to fully bake the roads. Aden was busy, but good busy, with groups of friends drinking bucket-sized iced coffees under lime-green trees. It sits below an apartment block festooned with climbers, next door to a shop selling work clothes, by which I mean high-vis overalls displayed on mannequins. It’s delightfully discordant. Inside, it’s very Amsterdam viennoiserie, with marble surfaces and textured ceilings, an austere menu etched into stone.
Aden offers every classic you’d expect, croissants, pain au chocolat, while also getting creative with fillings. There are also cakes, cheesecakes, meringues and chocolate bars decorated with exquisite floral patterns. I got a pain au chocolat, and I rated it highly. It was still warm and so a little soft, but I was keen on that softness, it was delicate as a lullaby, perfect for shredding. Softness is overlooked in the Amsterdam milieu, where pastries are taken to the textural extreme, usually for structural effect. This was an oozy sort of crumb, the webby interior melted in the mouth. I couldn’t help but think it was the soft serve of pastries. I hope this was a point of view and not a side-effect of this outrageous heatwave.
I also asked for their most popular pastry, and was told it was the cinnamon roll, a delicate ring of pastry around a cinnamon filling with a vanilla cream roof. It reminded me, in every way, of a more traditional cinnamon roll, the kind made with brioche or milk dough, swirled like a galaxy and drizzled with frosting. It was honest, handsome and hefty, a Henry Cavill-esque pastry, though I did think in this case a harsher bake would have given it a little more textural punch. Finally, I tried a passionfruit cheesecake (I was sharing, don’t judge) topped with a walloping layer of marshmallow. It probably needed a little more passionfruit, but was texturally just-so, not too heavy and perfect for summer snacking.
Aden is a gold nugget in the west. If you’re nearby, I wouldn’t hesitate to go. Will Amsterdam see more bakery openings? I’m willing to bet on it. Is it our duty to go try them, to help keep our incredible bakery scene alive? Yes, it is.
OK BYE!
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YUM alert!!