The Ottolenghi Effect

Few people can claim to have had such a singular impact on the way a nation eats as Yotam Ottolenghi. Back in 2002, when he opened his first eponymous café in London’s Notting Hill, even the most adventurous of British gastronomes weren’t regular consumers of Aleppo chilies or sumac, let alone black limes or baharat. These days, you can walk into a mid-tier supermarket in provincial England and find za’atar on the shelves and it’s all, basically, down to him. Like Julia Child introducing French cuisine to American audiences back in the 1960s, he has pretty much singlehandedly made the punchy flavours of the Levant a staple of the English middle-class dinner party, and the country is all the better for it.

For Ottolenghi, this represents something of a homecoming. He lived in the Dutch capital in the 1990s while finishing his master’s degree and knows the city well. For Amsterdam, it represents an exciting new addition to the evolving local food scene, where zingy flavours are always welcome. This, after all, is the country that had a near monopoly on the international spice trade in the 17th century. Given the locals’ predilection for a bit of spice, it’s unsurprising that Middle Eastern cuisine is well-represented. Take, for example, the Mezzave food boutique in the Pijp. This popular lunch-focused Israeli deli turns out lip-smacking smoked short-rib sandwiches and pitas packed with slow-cooked mushrooms and sumac onions. Another big star of the local lunch scene is the small chain of Levantine restaurants, The Lebanese Sajeria, which has four branches throughout the city. Famous for their manousheh flatbreads filled with all manner of big-tasting combinations such as aubergine and labneh, or lamb and tarator, The Lebanese Sajerias are informal, casual spots, perfect for a quick-fix on the go.