The Taste of Migration
The Taste of MigrationSome flavours travel farther than others.
In Amsterdam, migration isn’t just something you see in faces, languages, or street names — it’s something you can taste. A spoonful of peanut sauce, a flaky pastry with cumin, a sweet-and-sour sauce that somehow became “typically Dutch.”
Over the years, recipes have crossed oceans, settled into new kitchens, and quietly adjusted to different tastes.
This isn’t a guide to restaurants. It’s a guide to what happens when food travels — and adapts.
From the corner-Chinese to roti on a white plate, from baklava at the supermarket to Indonesian rijsttafel as a holiday tradition — some of these dishes have changed so much, they now taste like home to people who’ve never been to the country they came from.
We’ll explore how migration reshaped the Dutch menu — softly, over time — and how Amsterdam became a city where every neighbourhood carries a trace of somewhere else.
Skip to your flavour:
🥡 Chinese–Dutch Dishes – A Story of Adaptation
There used to be a Chinese restaurant on nearly every Dutch street corner — especially in Amsterdam, where for decades, neighbourhood Chinees-Indische restaurants were part of everyday life. They served dishes like babi pangang, tjap tjoy, and foe yong hai — food that wasn’t quite Chinese or Indonesian, but something in between.
These recipes came from Chinese Indonesians who settled in the Netherlands after Indonesia’s independence. The dishes were adapted to local tastes: sweetened sauces, mild spices, and familiar sides like fries or kroepoek.
Today, many of these restaurants are quietly disappearing. Younger generations take different paths, rents are rising, and fast-casual trends are taking over. Still, the memory of those red lanterns, round tables, and sauce-covered classics remains strong — especially for anyone who grew up with them.
🍜 TravelGlaze Tip:
Curious to experience this part of culinary history? Visit the Sea Palace, the large floating pagoda on the IJ near Centraal Station. It opened in 1984 as Europe’s first floating Chinese restaurant and still serves many of the classic dishes. Come for the view, stay for the nostalgia.
🍛 Surinamese Roti – Wrapped in Layers
Roti didn’t start as a Dutch favourite — but it became one.
Suriname was a Dutch colony for over 300 years, until it gained independence in 1975. In the years before and after that moment, many Surinamese families moved to the Netherlands — bringing with them languages, traditions, and food.
Suriname’s cuisine is layered with influences: Indian, Javanese, African, Dutch, Chinese, and more. One of its most iconic dishes, roti met kip, came from Indian contract workers — but over time, it transformed into a full Surinamese meal: soft flatbread, curried chicken, potatoes, and green beans. Spicy, filling, and often shared.
In Amsterdam, many Surinamese eateries are found in Zuidoost, the city’s most culturally diverse district — and home to some of the richest food stories in town.
🌶️ TravelGlaze Tip:
Want to experience Surinamese culture beyond the plate? Visit the Kwaku Festival in Nelson Mandelapark (July–August). It’s one of the city’s liveliest celebrations of Afro-Caribbean culture — with food stalls, music, dance, and community at its heart. Go hungry.
🍽️ Indonesian Rijsttafel – A Colonial Invention
he rijsttafel — “rice table” — sounds Indonesian, but it isn’t. At least, not in the way you’d think.
This elaborate meal of many small dishes — from rendang and sambal goreng boontjes to satay and seroendeng — was actually created by the Dutch during colonial rule in Indonesia. It allowed European colonists to sample a variety of local flavours at once, served in a format that felt grand, indulgent, and structured.
After Indonesia’s independence in 1945, many people with roots in the former Dutch East Indies came to the Netherlands — Indo-Europeans, Moluccans, and others. They brought their food, but also adapted it: spiciness was toned down, ingredients replaced, and the rijsttafel remained as a kind of nostalgic symbol.
Today, it’s still served in some restaurants — not always authentic to Indonesian home cooking, but deeply woven into Dutch culinary identity.
🌶 TravelGlaze Tip:
Want to try Indonesian flavours at home? Gado gado is a great place to start — a warm salad with vegetables, egg, and peanut sauce. Here’s a simplified version you can make in under 30 minutes:
Gado Gado (serves 2)
– 200g green beans (blanched)
– 2 boiled eggs (halved)
– 1 small cucumber (sliced)
– 2 handfuls of bean sprouts
– 2 medium potatoes (boiled & sliced)
– Optional: tofu or tempeh (lightly fried)
– Fried onions and prawn crackers (for crunch)
Peanut Sauce:
– 4 tbsp peanut butter
– 1 clove garlic (crushed)
– 1 tsp sambal
– 1 tbsp soy sauce
– Juice of ½ lime
– Warm water to thin
Mix all ingredients and adjust to taste — it should be creamy, spicy, and a little sweet.
Arrange everything on a plate, drizzle with sauce, and enjoy a small piece of Indonesian–Dutch history at your own table.
🥙 Shoarma, Döner & Kapsalon – Late-Night Legends
No list of Amsterdam’s migrant-influenced food is complete without shoarma and döner.
These dishes arrived with Turkish and Middle Eastern immigrants in the 1970s and ‘80s, and quickly became part of the Dutch late-night ritual. Served in pita bread with garlic sauce and spicy sambal, shoarma isn’t just a snack — it’s a memory for many nights out.
Then came the kapsalon — a uniquely Dutch creation that says a lot about how cultures blend. It started in Rotterdam in the early 2000s when a hairdresser ordered his döner with fries, cheese, and sauce all in one tray. The result? Crispy, gooey, spicy, and now available across the country.
What began as street food is now cultural shorthand — a guilty pleasure rooted in migration, adaptation, and a love of bold flavours.
🌯 TravelGlaze Tip:
The kapsalon — meaning “hair salon” — is a true Dutch invention. You won’t find this spicy, gooey mix of fries, döner, melted cheese and sauces in Turkey or Morocco. It’s become a local classic, found in most döner shops and even regular Dutch snack bars. Tip: ask for sambal en knoflook apart to keep things tidy — and spicy on your terms.
TravelGlaze Moment: From Macaroni to the Mekong
TravelGlaze Moment: From Macaroni to the MekongWhen I was growing up, “exotic food” meant macaroni — and even that was made with ketchup and ham. Most nights, we ate what many Dutch families did: potatoes, meat, and vegetables. The occasional kroket or bitterbal was a treat, but anything beyond that? Unusual.
Back then, there wasn’t much foreign food around. Maybe a Chinese-Indonesian restaurant in town.
For the curious readers: Kroketten and bitterballen are deep-fried Dutch snacks with a crunchy coating and a savoury, creamy ragout filling — often made with beef or veal. A kroket is longer and usually served on a bun; bitterballen are smaller, round, and often paired with mustard and a drink.
Nowadays? Amsterdam’s menus read like a map of the world. From Ethiopian injera to Vietnamese pho, from Syrian stews to Surinamese roti, you can travel continents in a single day — without leaving the city.
And that’s a good thing. I’ve been lucky to travel to many countries over the years, and somewhere along the way, I developed a real love for Asian food — Thai, Vietnamese, Japanese, Korean. Spicy, fresh, comforting. But these days, I don’t always need to fly to enjoy it. Amsterdam brings the flavours to me.
What’s your favorite kind of food?
🍽️ Vietnamese Flavours — Fresh, Subtle, and Full of Soul
Vietnamese food has a quiet kind of richness — light broths, fresh herbs, crunchy vegetables, and soft rice noodles. It’s comforting without being heavy, flavourful without being overwhelming.
In the Netherlands, the Vietnamese kitchen arrived later than Chinese or Surinamese food — often starting with the familiar loempia (spring roll), sold from food stalls at markets or stations. But over time, more dishes followed: pho (beef noodle soup), banh mi (crispy baguette with pickled veggies and meat), and bun cha (grilled pork with noodles and dipping sauce).
In Amsterdam, you’ll find Vietnamese restaurants from West to Oost — from sleek noodle bars to small family-owned kitchens. The food is often fast, fresh, and friendly on your wallet.
🌿 TravelGlaze Tip:
Want to try something beyond the usual spring roll? Order a bowl of pho bo (beef noodle soup) on a chilly day — it’s like a warm hug with lime and coriander. For a lighter lunch, banh mi makes the perfect street food. Many spots also offer vegetarian versions with tofu or mushrooms.
🍛 Syrian Hospitality — New Roots, Familiar Warmth
The Syrian kitchen came to Amsterdam not through trade or colonial ties, but through something far more personal: the search for safety.
Since 2011, thousands of Syrians have made the Netherlands their new home, fleeing a devastating civil war. Along with language, memories, and loss, many brought a deep love of food — and a desire to share it.
Syrian cuisine is rich and varied: slow-cooked stews, stuffed vegetables, creamy dips, grilled meats, and endless combinations of spices and herbs. But what defines it most is hospitality. Even in the smallest cafés or takeaway spots, there’s often a warm welcome and a sense of pride in every plate.
You’ll find Syrian restaurants in several neighbourhoods across Amsterdam, especially in the west and east of the city. The menus may be modest, but the flavours speak volumes.
🌿 TravelGlaze Tip:
New to Syrian food? Try a mezze platter — a small selection of dishes like hummus, moutabal (smoky aubergine), falafel, and lentil soup. It’s a gentle, generous introduction. For something heartier, look for kibbeh or makloubeh. Many places also offer family recipes with a twist.
🍫 A Cup of History: How Chocolate Found Amsterdam
It’s easy to think of chocolate as something modern — a treat in cafés, a sprinkle on breakfast toast, a cosy winter drink. But the story of chocolate in Amsterdam goes back centuries, and it’s surprisingly global.
In the 1600s, Dutch trading ships sailed from Amsterdam’s harbours to faraway places, bringing back spices, sugar, coffee… and eventually, cacao. The beans travelled from South America via colonies in the Caribbean, carried in the heavy wooden hulls of VOC ships. Back then, chocolate wasn’t sweet — it was often bitter, spiced, and sipped like a potion by the wealthy.
Then came a turning point: in the 19th century, Amsterdam chemist Casparus van Houten and his son Coenraad changed everything. They invented a method to press the fat out of cacao beans, turning them into a fine powder — the kind we still use today. This “Dutch cocoa” made chocolate easier to mix, drink, and eventually, eat. It was the beginning of chocolate as we know it.
From elite luxury to everyday comfort — that’s the journey chocolate took. And like so much in Amsterdam, it was shaped by trade, invention, and migration.
🌍 TravelGlaze Tip:
Next time you sip a hot chocolate in the city, take a moment to think of where it came from — and how long it travelled. Want to dig deeper? The Cacaomuseum in Amsterdam-Oost shares stories of farmers, fair trade, and the long global path from bean to bar.
🌍 One City, Many Kitchens
Amsterdam’s food culture didn’t appear overnight. It sailed in, settled down, changed shape — just like the people who brought it. From colonial trade to modern migration, every wave added something new to the plate.
And today? You can still taste those journeys. In a bakery in Bos en Lommer. A Syrian café by the water. A corner snack bar that quietly serves three continents on one tray.
That’s what makes this city so special. You don’t just eat here — you travel, in bites and memories.
✨ Curious where these flavours meet in real life?
Wander through one of Amsterdam’s vibrant street markets — they’re often where the stories begin.
You’ll find a full guide right here on TravelGlaze — stalls, snacks, and quiet surprises included.
💬 What about you?
Have you tasted something in Amsterdam that brought you back to another place — or time?
I’d love to hear your thoughts, memories, or favourite dishes.
Scroll down and leave a comment below — your story might inspire someone else’s next flavourful stop.
