Amsterdam's Evolving Wine Scene

On natural wine's rampant popularity, plus a survival guide

I don’t go to the cool places any more.

Competing for a nanosecond of attention from moody gen-Z staff is tedious enough. You feel judged just for entering. Then they crank the already-deafening music even higher, presumably in the hope it might make you leave.

You lust after a free seat, even though you know the chairs have been engineered to be more uncomfortable than sitting on a concrete block. But all the concrete blocks are taken, by the people waiting for a table. And the tables have been carefully placed just too close together for you or the waiting staff to comfortably squeeze between them.

Finally you’re sat down and deemed worthy enough to have someone come over to judge serve you. But there are complications. You don’t have a menu. Neither do they. Your first, second and third wine choices are sold out. There is something open. They have no idea what, it might be orange. Maybe French.

Don’t even get me started about the glassware.

Gezellig

Welcome to Amsterdam, where natural wine is not just hip, it’s de rigeur for any new bar or restaurant. It’s a far cry from 2014 when I moved here. Back then, Chilean Merlot and industrial Grüner Veltliner dominated. The scene has transformed within the last decade. Now there must be over 100 restaurants and bars with good lists. And yes there is a lot of natty.

Part of me is delighted that natural wine has become so popular, that there are so many heaving bars and fancy new locations pouring my favourite minimal intervention beverages.

But it’s a double-edged sword. When something becomes this fashionable, it can all get a bit meta. You realise the reason the beautiful young things hang out at Twee Prinsen is not because they’re advocates of biodynamics or low intervention. It’s just the place to be seen.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine a time when natural wine would be so painfully en vogue that I would feel excluded from the scene. Life is full of surprises.

You’re probably wondering whether I fell out the wrong side of bed this morning. You think I’m a grumpy old man? Let me tell you, I was already grumpy twenty years ago. It didn’t come with age.

Good companions

I have a different strategy when selecting a bar or a restaurant these days. I’ll settle for somewhere far from the bleeding edge if it looks a little less hectic. And if the staff seem like they have more than zero fucks to give.

In search of such a refuge from hipsterville, I discovered The Good Companion last summer. TGC is a fish restaurant at the quiet end of the Westerstraat. The cooking is top-notch, without pretension but perfectly executed. It ticks all the right boxes: exemplary sourcing and freshness, vibrant flavours, plentiful oysters¹.

Service is friendly and the wine list surprised me by being neither dull nor formulaic. Last time I went there was an orange by the glass, and several by the bottle. Hervé Villemade’s Cheverny made us happy. We traded some wine-geekery with the somm. End result: laughs and mutual respect. Thank you Bloeme.

The shining light amongst the specialist natural spots is Bar Centraal. Opened as a sister venue to Glou Glou in 2017, it took a while to find its feet. But with Tom Paquay at the helm it developed into a serious wine address. Tom’s passions are clearly on display - Jura, Burgundy, Styria. Over the last few years it’s become an unofficial wine-trade common room.

Now, Tom and two of his lynch-pins are departing for new adventures. Who knows what the future holds.

There is one bit of good news: the much-missed evening service at 4850 is back from August 14th. Daniel Schein’s temple to third-wave coffee, artisanal wine and Nordic-inspired food was always one of my favourite hangouts for a night of calm, grape-fuelled hedonism. I can’t wait to go back.

Still insist on mortal combat with the hipsters? Then you better read this:

Survival guide