Waldorf Astoria Amsterdam Review

A rich socialite procured her boyfriend the job of city mayor. In return, he immortalised her in three life-sized bas-reliefs above a geometrically swirling staircase. Another family would take an artist on Italian holidays so he could romanticise their trips in large murals. The results decorate a dining room and the Rijksmuseum want to buy them but have been constantly turned down. Part of the hotel used to be a bank. The director’s officer has been turned into a suite and it’s the only one with a painted mural on the ceiling. The vault, located in the basement, is now a bar. Guests can buy a bottle and store it in one of the original vault boxes should they not finish it. The Waldorf Astoria is made up of six 17th and 18th century townhouses which seamlessly stretch along Herengracht Canal. Outside, the facades are notably different, inside, a thin black sealant defines the end of one house and the beginning of another. At times, some of the corridors are a little wonky but this adds to the hotel’s unapologetic charm and its treasure trove of living, breathing history. 

A black flag flutters above the hotel’s otherwise discrete entrance. On the top of a handful of short steps stand two uniformed doormen. They help with our luggage and introduce us to the receptionist who has his own office. It’s a bit like meeting a bank manager except not as scary and with champagne aperitif. The hotel smells of elegance and we’re offered a choice of four aromas for our suite’s evening turn down; Cire Trudon’s Joséphine, Serena, Cyrnos or Ernesto. Inspired by an imagined Havana hotel, Ernesto is rich, warm and consists of tobacco, leather and cologne notes so we opt for that. Pristine and shiny marble flooring leads the reception area past the staircase with the bas-reliefs, into Peacock Alley, a large but quiet art deco meeting space. Inspired by the promenade that once connected the original Waldorf and Astoria hotels in New York, we eschew this and follow our luggage. 

Much like the rest of the hotel, our King Grand Premier Suite With Canal View is a paean to thoughtful but understated elegance. A deftly calculated mix between contemporary and historical, it’s the kind of place you really don’t want to leave. A small ante-chamber with wooden floorboards leads into the main room which serves as both bedroom and lounge and is defined by its high ceiling. Cream coloured hanging curtains accentuate the room’s quiet drama and the quaint view over-looking the canal seals it. A non-functioning fireplace but with silver birch logs sits below a grey marble mantlepiece.

On one side stands a minbar disguised as armoire, on the other, art, books, vases sparsely decorate shelves. Nearby, a round table for two topped with purple flowers invites relaxation and a curved grey sofa does the same at the end of the dreamy Kingsize bed. A mottled grey and white rug acts as a harder counterpoint to the suite’s bright creaminess. The bathroom is equally spacious and with a similarly neutral but grey and white colour scheme. A small tv screen sits above a bold, chunky bath and a his and her sink is complimented by Aesop hand washes and soap products, as is the walk in shower.

Nothing to do with the Donna Tart novel of the same name which starts in New York, journeys to Las Vegas and ends in Amsterdam, The Goldfinch brasserie serves breakfast until 11am on the lower ground floor. It’s an intimate space with pink carnations adding colour to each table. To avoid unnecessary waste, there’s no buffet to pick and chose from but the À La Carte menu does offer The Taste of Waldorf which is close – berries, yoghurts, pastries, cold cuts, cheeses and salmon plus one other item from the menu. This stretches from Belgian Waffles to French Toast, Poffertjes and various themes on Eggs Benedict. The menu also caters to the truly opulent by offering both Pol Roger and Pommery Rosé for a vivacious and bubbly morning start.  Service is precise, welcoming and efficient and a friendly waiter asks if we have any plans for the day, offering interesting suggestions when we say we don’t. The Waldorf Astoria Eggs Benedict is practically a double portion – two sourdough slices with two eggs, salmon and spinach.  The Avocado On Toast is not dissimilar; it looks smaller but two poached eggs also lie on one tower-like portion of brown toast. 

Both dishes are exemplary and keep us going for the rest of the day, although to be fair, we’re only walking a few metres along the basement corridor (where the bar and hotel’s two Michelin star restaurant, Spectrum are also located) to the Guerlain spa. Large abstract white sculptures which look like melted wax sheets complement the square pool which has a constant horizontal fountain to provide a flowing, aural energy. If the swimming pool is fun and the steam room and sauna are unsurprisingly relaxing, it’s the outdoor garden which truly elevates the experience. Lay back on one of four loungers or, more interestingly, explore the city’s largest private canal garden. More like a traditional English country garden than most English country gardens, a pebble walkway stretches through luscious green lawns from which roses and trees sprout and sculptures stand. It’s quiet, it’s serene, it’s calming. It’s the perfect place for a wedding and although local laws prohibit the sale of alcohol outside, there’s nothing to stop guests buying drinks in the Vault bar and consuming them outside. Definitely watch out for Tulip Season. About 5000 tulips are planted every Autumn and this year, a new strain of tulip specially developed by the hotel, The Lady Waldorf Astoria, caused no small Spring sensation. 

Spectrum is one of Amsterdam’s seven two star Michelin restaurants. Situated on the lower ground floor of the Waldorf Astoria, it overlooks the hotel’s spectacular and verdant garden. With parquet flooring, not much more than two handfuls of white clothed, candlelit tables, a couple of walls covered in cream drapes and a seven-foot oblong vitrine which looks obliquely into the kitchen, the snug space exudes a quiet dignity and confidence with a subtle theatricality. 

The restaurant’s Maitre D’, Cas is personable, knowledgeable and already seems to know I never turn down a glass of champagne. He offers a smooth, chilled Person L’Audaciouse. Menu includes À La Carte, vegetarian tasting and regular tasting. We opt for the latter and are swiftly presented with a mind-bogglingly elaborate amuse-bouche. It looks almost like it shouldn’t be eaten but placed on a mantelpiece as art decoration. Or on your jacket as a broach. It is in fact, trout roe on potato and shiso leaf. This description doesn’t do it justice. Cas advises to eat it in one. A jelly texture cools, the caviar bursts liquid, the potato is crunchy, a cheesiness warms, a saltiness kicks in and it’s all wrapped up, literally, by the calming shiso leaf. 

What did I just eat!? 

How did they do that!? 

Where am I!? 

The next two dishes elicit exactly the same reactions. Sprat is served in a bowl of small pebbles from which fishbone, fishtail and seaweed elegantly protrude. Best described as sprat tempura, the one bite packs a crisp crunch from which a smoky fish flavour pounces. The North Sea Crab’s description defies its actualisation. Served on a large, cream coloured sea coral, a kitchen member piles a tablespoon of caviar on each of two uncooked pastry-like slug shapes. The exterior tastes not dissimilar to mochi and the interior offers a sweet paste, a far cry from crab’s traditional texture or even subtle oceanic flavour. It’s a titillating and pleasant surprise, a unique offering that defies comprehension and one of the night’s standouts. 

The pace of presentation seems leisurely but precise and never-ending. Marvel follows marvel. Often, finishing touches are performed at the table; intricate pourings of jus or specific pin-pointing of jalapeño drops. Fried brioche is served like children’s building blocks; playful, bold, a curiosity to tear apart, the two cubes are served with Malden salt but no butter as that’s already features sufficiently in the recipe.

An intricate pine dish with asparagus wrapped in thin mushroom slices and a cylinder of mouse wrapped in jelly evokes walking through a soft needled forest after a smattering of rain. A square of skate stands in an orange consommé, is decorated by a bright, bold red layer of tomato jam and accompanied by a handful of tiny shrimps.  A finger-sized chunk of sole is practically unrecognisable, served with equally hard to identify cauliflower, oyster, sea grape, pretty mauve and green leaves.

One of the more easily identifiable dishes is one of the most visually dramatic. Served on a bowl brimming with small, black shiny pebbles, langoustine has been barbecued with cacao and its head caved out and replaced by a chunk of mushroom and greenery. 

There’s witchery afoot here, a science, an alchemy. Chef Sidney Schutte and his kitchen use relatively familiar ingredients but turn them into the unfamiliar. Sure, you may recognise tastes and textures but still, the dishes seem fresh and new and marvellous. This is the theatre in which Spectrum deals. It’s not grand or loud but more interested in re-invention and exploration. To this end, Spectrum not only publishes its menu but much like a theatre programme, also prints the names of the people involved in this culinary devilry. Twelve from the kitchen, ten from service. Even the stewarding team receives an honourable mention. It’s a nice touch, one I’ve never seen at a restaurant before. But why not? The staff work as hard as those behind a play or a film so credit where credit is due. 

With a fresh and savoury bite and understated tannins, Cas pairs a rich Ada Nada Barbaresco with the aniseed and spices in our duck. The meat knife looks a little like a dagger and a bowl is served next to the main plate. I assume we get to pour our own jus this time but no, leave that to the professionals; this is a drink and reminds of Christmas markets and cold, gloved hands. The duck is curved, almost the shape of orange segments. It’s super tender, has a thin layer of fat and a crispy exterior coating. The most curious appearance and thus the most fun is a coral shaped rice crispy offering. I have no idea what it is and I’ve never seen or eaten anything like it but, no surprise, it’s a charismatic addition to what is essentially the main course. 

Black truffle ice cream from Australia and rhubarb with dill ice cream finish proceedings. The former, especially, is spectacular. It’s served with what looks like a mound of linseed but is in fact Tonka chocolate. A kitchen member shaves one of three golf ball sized truffles over the ice cream for extra pizzaz. The dill’s cooler sweetness offsets the rhubarb’s warmer tartness for another intriguing presentation. We should have known better because, of course, Spectrum wants, needs to intrigue and delight to the very end.

There’s a final surprise. A final amuse-bouche. Our reaction is exactly the same as it was four hours ago. 

What on earth is this!? 

Well…

It looks like a snow pyramid and a green sphere with tiny leaf. The latter is served on a china presentation mount, the latter on absolutely nothing, the table. Both demand one bite each. The pyramid has a crispy outside and stickier inside, with an overriding satisfying coconut flavour. The green ball surprises with a sweet but citrus liquid. Both are further examples of the culinary magic which make Spectrum stand out, a subtle giant amongst giants. With its understated confidence, its desire to explore, to thrill, to push boundaries, its a must-visit restaurant which perfectly compliments the Waldorf Astoria’s perfect sophistication and completes a perfect stay.