Dutch Treat

Open All 4 KAF Seasons: Dust, Wind, Heat and Rain

Friday night being the traditional night out in the real world, J, M and I went to Echos All Seasons Restaurant a couple of days ago. It’s run by the Dutch and located just north of the Boardwalk. This was about my fourth visit there since coming to KAF and it was one of the most successful.

The Procedure:

I have to admit, that on my latest visit, everything went very smoothly. The process I’m about to outline, however, pretty accurately reflects what happened to both J and I on earlier visits.

It's not as blurry in real life.

You line up to order at the counter. Unfortunately, the only complete menus are sitting on the counter at the front of the line so nobody knows what they want until they get up there. This slows down the process remarkably and I assume it is because the Dutch, being sociable people, like to stand there uncomfortably as you peruse the menu with a growing line of impatient diners behind you. No pressure there.

Once you’ve seen the menu, you get to play that old Dutch guessing game of Dontenfuckengotit. Sure, sometimes there’s a notice up on the chalkboard that they are out of steak, say, but often you just order something, find out you’ve guessed wrong then order something else. You’re given a receipt with a number. You are then dismissed to go find a table.

Now, this is where it can get confusing for people used to the decimal number system. Most cultures, while having different words for the numbers, use them in the same order. 23 comes after 22 for example. The Dutch, it seems, have their own system whereby, for example, my number 47 comes after numbers 48 through 62. At first, I assumed this was just due to what I had ordered until I realized that numbers 53, 56, and 61 were identical to my order yet were served before me. Oh, that was just a mix-up in the kitchen, you say? Well, when it happened again on my second visit, it became obvious to me that the Dutch just count differently. Who knew? Is this common knowledge? Once again my ignorance of other cultures was on display.

Last Friday

Ribs, Fries and Starch

On to our latest Dutch adventure…Every Friday night the special is pork ribs with fries and salad for $10. M and I went for that while J had the schnitzel.

The ribs were pretty good. They were cooked properly and quite tender. The sauce was meh and there wasn’t enough of it but they were still way better than most ribs you get in the DFACS.

The fries tasted a little like crow because I put some lots of the curry mayonnaise from their giant jug on them and they were really good. I stand by my comments re: regular mayonnaise on fries, because.

If you’re serving pasta salad, shouldn’t you have to say that on the menu? Who the hell expects a pasta salad when you’re told you’re getting a salad? I expected something with at least a hint of green rather than an anemic white pile of starchy sludge. With a heaping dollop of curry mayonnaise, however, it was awesome. I couldn’t even taste the pasta.

Schnitzel, Fries and a Pogo

J reported that his schnitzel was very good. He also got a giant breaded hotdog thing on the side which had some fancy Dutch name but they weren’t fooling anyone. It was a Pogo with a lighter breading. They are awesomely good…just like Pogos.

Because J and M both read this blog (ok M does, and J pretends to), I’m obligated to discuss the drink I had with dinner since they threatened to mention it in the comments if I didn’t. I had an iced tea slushie. It was very good. So good in fact that I got a spoon to eat it because the little straw they had provided was just too slow. I’m not sure why they thought it was so funny when I got “brain freeze” or an “ice cream headache” by eating my slushie too quickly. Happens to everyone, right? Ok, I get it a little bit that they thought it was funny when I continued to eat the slushie too fast and got a second headache.  I’m not stupid so I hid the third one from them by turning around and pretending to watch the TV as I grimaced.

Desert Dessert

Questionable Dippage

It’s Ramadan right now so we’ve been asked not to eat outside during daylight hours in deference to the local population’s myths. Luckily, the sun was going down just as we left All Seasons so we wandered across the dusty alley to the Boardwalk for an ice cream at Cold Mountain Ice Cream. Unlike the DFACS, Cold Mountain has soft serve ice cream (or is it ice milk?) just like Dairy Queen. Unlike Dairy Queen, the quality control is a little lacking…but that’s a good thing. For example, the sign has always said a regular dipped cone is $3. When they first opened they were charging $2.50. On Friday, they charged me $2. They also aren’t the most skilled cone dippers. You often get very uneven chocolate coverage but it is so thick in some places that its like an ice cream bar.

M and his last clean shirt.

Here’s a hint: always ask for an extra napkin. Unless you’re the fastest ice cream eater in the world and are ok with risking an ice cream headache (or 3) and all the ridicule that accompanies that, in 50C heat you will have ice cream dripping all over.

Bottom Line

The Dutch place is an affordable and pretty tasty place to eat. Just make sure you learn the counting system… I haven’t.

For ice cream, it’s best at the Boardwalk.

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11 thoughts on “Dutch Treat

  1. When I questioned the order at which food leaves the kitchen I was told that their countrymen have priority and thus move to the front of the food line. Wouldn’t it be great if it worked that way at Tim’s.

  2. I like the seasons you’ve stated however I wouldn’t want to experience them. Maybe you can start your own curry mayo business once home but I understand you’ll have to find an outlet that sells cumin ( if that is one of your secret ingredients).

  3. I always wondered what happened to Yack Levack when you disappeared from the DWAN. I was turned on to (not by) your blog by a fellow Aurora aviator today. Your lack of success with Dutch babes in today’s entry reminded me of that night we went out in Leiden and you got shot down in flames over and over again to my geometrically increasing amusement and your ever-lasting chagrin. What’s with the pixelation (in M’s case laughingly ineffective)? Guess you don’t know that surfing gay midget porn is legal now!

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