We got an early start to the day since our host had to leave for work. Walking the 15-20 minute trek to the train, we dodged an army of bicycles in both directions. It's not a city for pedestrians, we'll tell you that! At the top there's bikes, then scooters, then cars, and then us...I think.
While looking for a place to eat after leaving the Amsterdam Library where Michelle was taking care of some school work, we came upon a Mexican themed restaurant after passing various spots of different nationalities. Not realizing the implications of what an empty restaurant means we soon found out that we were the only customers in the place. In spite of a full coat rack to contradict our theories (the coats on it might have been from lost and found for all we know) and a table outside finishing up, we decided to sit outside overlooking the canal. Once seated, we were greeted by a waiter in his 20's who seemed fairly new to the job and didn't speak much English or Spanish (we think we heard him speaking French).
We were poured sangria with a few sliced oranges and apples in the cup (not pitcher) and were given cute glasses. Once we toasted and our glasses touched, we noticed a lack of clinking immediately. What's wrong with this picture? we wondered. And we tried toasting again with the same lack of clinkliness! That's right, we were given fake plastic glasses in the Netherlands. We didn't bring it to their attention but instead asked to be seated inside since a breeze was getting stronger near the water. The sangria had as much alcohol as Sunday school Communion! Walter took this opportunity to ask the owner how much alcohol was in it because he was feeling buzzed, to which he said it was various alcohols (yeah right) and fruit juices. It was more like carbonated Hawaiian Punch to us.
It only got better when the food arrived and made Taco Bell appear to be for la raza. Did we mention the name of this place was Guadalupe? Yeah, that's right, and it said Tapas so we really didn't think it would be bad. But then the food arrived and it was just, well, not even Del Taco worthy but at least they had decent portions and we were pretty hungry. We soaked up the food with the practically non-alcoholic sangria and added a "CLINK!" sound every time we toasted just to make us feel like it was somehow a legit place, even though our fake clink left an echo through the large empty space (could probably fit 100 people but we remained the only customers).
We kept wondering where the kitchen was located as we only spotted the boss and waiter hanging on front of a cashier and small bar (with tons of "glasses" hanging...hm). After Walter dragged (or clutched for dear life) down the eternal spiral staircase to get to a bathroom practically located in a closet, he discovered where the kitchen produced the magnificent feast. Why, downstairs with a dumbwaiter (small food/dishes elevator contraption) which allowed the culinary artists to produce their works in private and ring up when it was ready. Luckily we have some photos for posterity. Oh wait, and that business card that has '10% Discount!' across the back of it. Yeah, that'll keep us.
We wished we were wiser than the retirees who sat down, looked at the menus, gazed around and split.
no tortillas here