NH Collection Amsterdam Barbizon Palace Review

Situated within historic 17th-century canal houses and a former chapel, NH Collection’s Amsterdam flagship, the Barbizon Palace, couldn’t be more central. Located directly opposite the city’s gothic revivalist Centraal Station, the city’s strict historical preservation rules have ensured the retention of several original architectural features. Indeed, a small but fascinating painting by Theo Voorzaat titled ‘Kop van Prins Hendrikkade’, hangs in reception. The painting, literally translated as ‘The top of Prince Hendrik Quay’, features the street’s 1980s facade which is almost identical to the one today, albeit with more of a Second World War bombing dereliction aesthetic. Its sombre but downbeat dignity contrasts the hotel’s atrium cum reception, an ebullient, eclectic and occasionally eccentric space.

By the entrance, a black plastic, life-size horse sports a lampshade as hat.  Throughout the large oblong space, beach cabin-sized lampshades hang from the ceiling with cascading fringes in various bright or bold colours. Palms sprout greenery throughout. Central white pillars are ringed with gold leaf. A small stand offers sweet jars full of pear drops, cinnamon sticks and Brighton rock. Check-in is straight forward and aided by the pleasant addition of a glass of crisp Crémant de Bourgogne Rosé. Whilst sipping this, our receptionist entices with more offers of free alcohol. In a concerted effort at sustainability, every day a guest forgoes room-cleaning, he/she receives a voucher for a free glass of house red or white wine or a beer from Bottles and Jars, the hotel’s French-themed bar.

Some of the most impressive retained architectural features have to be the suite’s wooden beams which provide a rare mixture of history, cosiness and casual drama. Ceilings slope gently upwards in an inverted ‘V’ shape and seem to cause the breezy white suite to extend forever, effectively providing it with two floors. Immediately upon entry, on the left stands the bathroom. Decked in flecked grey and white tiles it has a rain effect shower edged with contrasting black tiles. On the right stand a cupboard and minibar and then up a few steps, the King size bed encourages guests to slow down if not downright stop.

Three floors below, city life unfolds; pedestrians saunter, cyclists whizz, trams hum past the Amstel river along which boats ferry happy tourists. Behind, the Centraal Station glimmers with gold highlights as if ready to audition for a new Harry Potter film. A hypnotic sight and constantly engaging vista no matter what time of day or night, crack open a beer, pop open a bottle of champagne when day turns to night for your own private bar with with mesmerising view. 

Unfortunately we don’t have time to linger, have another engagement at the hotel’s restaurant, Vermeer. Blink and you’ll miss the entrance from inside the hotel, just before the swing door exit on the right. Failing that, head out the swing door, take about four steps to the right and head back inside. Vermeer’s lounge is coloured mainly in an elegant, neutral grey with walls, floors, sofas occasionally uplifted by brighter, bronzier highlights. Behind a waist-height counter an array of bottles and glasses remind that it’s a bar whilst on the wall opposite, a surreal black and white photo of a fish flopped elegantly into a high heel reminds diners to expect the unexpected. We start the evening with a Lequien et Fils champagne and are soon served an appetiser on what looks like a black, fossilised backbone. Colourful and stacked in ever-decreasing concentric rings, the miso paste and various radishes open the palate for what is to come. 

We start the evening with a Lequien et Fils champagne and are soon served an appetiser on what looks like a black, fossilised backbone. Colourful and stacked in ever-decreasing concentric rings, the miso paste and various radishes open the palate for what is to come. 

We opt for a tasting menu with wine pairing. The menu seems slightly off piste from the annotated tasting menu so keeps us happily on the edge of our seats throughout. Keen advocates of the farm-to-table movement, 99% of Vermeer’s produce is sourced from Holland and first up is an oyster from the country’s Western tip served with fish roe infused in sherry and close to frozen (but filtered) North Sea water.  Chunks of asparagus are additionally served in a bowl of warm hollandaise sauce flavoured with orange butter. The tastes and temperatures of one pleasantly contradict those of the other.

Next up, a couple of vegetarian dishes are pure, elegant, and never as simple as they seem. First is a pretty huddle of seasonal vegetables wherein yellow and mauve colours counterpoint green and cream ones. Pickled onion, white strawberry, beetroot, Brussels sprout, elderflower and cauliflower all feature in a couldn’t-be-more-fresh, crunchy salad unified by a cool jus featuring a playful leek jelly. With joyous yellow and green to reflect the passing of spring and the arrival of summer, slightly grilled turnips are served in a room temperature leak soup. Dannis, our genial sommelier, proffers Franz Haas Pinot Grigio for the former and Heymann-Lowenstein Schieferterrassen, a dry Riesling, for the latter.

The dining room is intimate in size and retains the same slate grey colouring as its lounge. Soft, right angled sofas work with light wooden tables for a natural, upbeat effect with glass lanterns hanging above diners. Four black and white photographs decorate the main wall, but less surreal than the lounge, are more representative of vegetables as objets d’art. Or maybe chef as artist. Or the whole Vermeer organism as its own creative hub, or, indeed, micro art movement. Maybe the clue is in the restaurant’s name, Vermeer; the Dutch master known for his soft, natural lighting, his intricate detail. We’re dining on an especially bright evening and as the sun slowly sets, the dining room becomes its own dramatic art piece, a bit like a functioning James Turrell. Shadows appear, shadows elongate, shadows disappear. Golden hues come, golden hues go. It’s an additional, immersive aspect of the restaurant and, wittingly or not, reflects its respect for and bond with nature.

The chicken pie is inspired by a sweet dessert but could, by appearance alone, equally be inspired by a Cornish pasty or even a Beef Wellington. The inverse shape of a bowl, the pie is cut in half at the table and moistened with chicken jus. As is increasingly the norm these days, every part of the poultry is used in the pie, even the liver. The pastry is super light and a small amount of salt (which most dishes lack) has been added to the rind. This is the most fragrant dish thus far and a barn-storming chicken flavour bursts from every delicious mouthful. 

Pear kombucha cleanses our palate for the evening’s main course. Six different parts of lamb surround a small pool of lamb jus which chef Sebastian Baquero Garces pours. The lamb is dry aged for a week, he explains, and we’re to eat it in an anti-clockwise order. There’s kidney, saddle, neck and shoulders and rib. There’s hemp seed somewhere, a half-penny-sized jalapeño dip and some slippery mustard seeds. The kidney is strangely peppery. The final cutlet offers the most traditional, purest of taste which reminds of when the world was simpler, all lamb was organic and tasted like a million dollars. It’s accompanied by a full-bodied and exquisite Chateau Carbonnieux Grand Cru Classee de Graves 2014.

A champagne sorbet with Imperial caviar acts as a final palate cleanser before a similar concept to the lamb dish is served for dessert. There’s poached rhubarb, rhubarb ice cream decorated in a floral twirl, rhubarb jus infused with Thai basil and there are two long, thin creations which look like lobster leg meat but are rhubarb sweet sticks. Nature has become its own dimmer switch and Vermeer is much darker and moodier in atmosphere.

Dannis offers us freshly cut strawberries, chunks of watermelon and a delightful tartelette as a departing gesture. Housed in fine pastry, the latter is surprisingly soft and gooey and is made of a 70% dark chocolate from Ecuador (maybe the 1% of the menu not derived locally and a hint at our chef’s South American heritage?). Just as we’re readying to leave, Dannis invites us into the kitchen where the team look remarkably fresh-faced, still, and upbeat.

Sebastian Baquero Garces is an amiable chap and an easy raconteur. He shows us the storage room, the dry ageing chamber, explains in more detail about the lamb dish and regales how much he enjoyed his two years previously working as personal chef to a Dutch ambassador. It’s a special way to end a special evening in a special restaurant

Breakfast finishes the next morning, on the weekend, at a luxurious midday so no need to rush. Set adjacent to the atrium, the breakfast room is a bright, fresh space walled mainly with rectangular shiny white tiles but with a few black ones surrounding the hidden kitchen. Single bulbs hang from ceiling to illuminate some tables whilst recessed lighting illuminates the majority. Expect a fine array of fresh fruit, fried breakfast, cereals, juices, cheeses, dried meats and an À La Carte Eggs menu which, amongst more traditional egg dishes, features Shakshouka (Tomato, bell pepper, onion, garlic) and Barbizon Benedict (Poached egg, spinach, ham and hollandaise sauce on a brioche bun). A few local offerings remind of our location including Old Rotterdam cheese and, one of my favourites, a locally made Peanut Butter. In reality I should have had the Detox Smoothie (Apple, grape, banana, mango, kiwi, cucumber, flax seeds etc) but opt for a Barbizon Benedict. It might not have orange butter or asparagus in the hollandaise but the egg is perfectly runny and the portion sufficiently dainty to leave me room for an Acai Bowl to which I add coconut flakes, hazelnuts and goji berries.

Impressively, the Spa and gym are open 24 hours a day and the former, especially, offers a great location to unwind and contemplate all that the Barbizon Palace and its city have to offer. Here, a dedicated relaxation area with overgrown bonzai type tree and curved wooden loungers on curved rails act as spatial intermediary between a fully functioning steam room and a neat sauna in the opposite corner. It’s a great way to start or end your stay at the always charming Barbizon Palace, to reflect all that has been or all that might be.