Winkel 43

When you hear the words “apple pie”, naturally the first thing that comes to your mind is your grandmother, auntie, and also the great United States. I say the United States because this sweet pie stars in so many movies, stands outside windows to chill while various people or animals sniff it, grandmas pedal them gaining themselves the ‘saint’ title and we all drool! In many bakeries or diners, you can ask for it sugar free! How is it made? Natural apple juice, natural sugars. In fact my American apple pie memories are connected to when I was waiting tables on my student days; once I served it to a regular customer with melted American cheese on it, and to my double shock, everybody knew how he wanted it. Never wondered what it tastes like. Never.

But now let me tell you a nice little story

of a great apple pie that is not standing outside the window and I am not sure

whether Saint Grandmother is baking it. In fact I highly doubt it. This melting

delight is served in a very hot spot in the popular northern European city of

Amsterdam.

I

went to Netherlands some years back and we had just a few days to explore,

shop, get cultured, get food, queue up at Anne Frank’s house, try some great

beer. One of those days, when it was very sunny and life seemed on the whole

very pleasant, my local friend comes up with a what seemed at the time a

bizarre idea: “Let’s go have apple pie!”

“But … But a nice chunky brownie sounds

better!”

“Oh no, trust me you will thank me after

this and plus I can’t wait to have guests so I have an excuse to stand in

line.”

“There’s a line…?”

“No but it’s ok sometimes you get it in 20

minutes max”.

Since I was a guest with no expectations,

but instead just letting myself be thrown into various experiences, I just

relaxed and enjoyed the sweet and not so feeble November sun of Amsterdam.

Bikes rushing, pigeons parading, tourists stopping for what I reckoned no

reason at all and pointing at stuff.

We arrive at Winkel; a typical Amsterdam

canal building with a very distinguished pointed end, probably dating back to

the 17th century. There are tables in the sun and green sunshades

mark the place, stuff you randomly see in Europe in tight sidewalks where

people like to enjoy their break so close to each other. There was absolutely

no place to sit and absolutely no enthusiasm that new customers arrived. Our

friend tells us to wait outside while he goes in to queue up. Out of curiosity

I decided that the menu would be a better sight than people eating, who made me

more hungry, so I go inside to be greeted by this interior that has not been

renovated thoroughly for ages, a long counter and a small window where you see

the kitchen and cooks. Some people are eating and drinking while standing and

my friend tells me there is not much to look at; just apple pie and coffee or

mint tea. After I stare at this man who came out of the kitchen completely

nonchalant, I think that he must be doing something great worth this attitude

and as soon as I take off, a table leaves and we rapidly sit on it.

A couple of cigarettes later (it must have

been some time, but who cares! There’s plenty to look at: people!) 5 apple

pies, 2 coffees and 3 mint teas arrive.

Hello there, apple pie! This warm crust

with the aroma of heavens just dwells me into itself and suddenly no one was

speaking. The pie is so fresh I could have sworn it just left the oven. The

crust is crumbly and it melts in the tongue together with the filling. And the

whipped cream? I have to admit I quit that bad habit in my teen days when I

just sneaked in the fridge at night and filled my mouth with whipped cream

until I could not close it back. But this home made whipped cream made me

reconsider the whole philosophy of this gastronomic foam. Delicious,

unrepeatable, take-me-to-the-rainbow-city whipped cream.

I was hungry and this generous slice took

care of my lunch. Gentlemen, at least your brunch.

I could go on and on and tell you the

places in my head this apple pie took me. All I can say is that once you put a

spoon in your mouth, the street noise does not matter, nor does the fact that

the place is so packed and the design is not impressive. You can easily call it

a meal and pay around five euros, drink included.

Although the apple pie occupies most of my

memories, I was very impressed with the mint tea too that sometimes I think I

dreamt it, since it is not customary elsewhere in Europe. You receive a glass

with hot water and leaves of mint, and it is one of the most organic drinks

ever, or at least it feels so, due to the transparency and the live plant.

Winkel

is situated in a very touristic spot in Noordermarkt and a short walk away from

Anne Frank’s house. After the pie you can wander around and get lost in the open

markets or in between canals.

winkel43.nl