The last time I was in My Old Dutch Denis Bergkamp was playing for Arsenal and I could climb a flight of stairs at a tube station two at a time. MOD, I’m glad to say, has aged better than I have in the intervening years.
The first thing I noticed was that the room has been transformed. It’s still a barn of a place but the décor has skipped straight from the ’70s to the po-mo noughties with astroturf on one wall and random Dutch themed décor around the rest of the place.
But orange remains a strong element.
The booze offer has also improved – I don’t remember there being an excellent selection of Belgian and Dutch beer before (mebbe a token Hoegaarden?) but we were in the mood for wine so took a very reasonably priced Pinot Grigio.
I think it must be the prices that keep people coming back in this area because the food, though robust, isn’t exactly compelling. The starter was the best thing – a majestic spread of bitterballen, kaas and salmon that would have been a credit to any authentic Dutch bar. My pancake with Moroccan lamb was huge but the topping was a bit below wow.
A look aorund the room showed that most people were there for the sweet stuff but I didn’t have room for more pancake after my hubcap-sized monster. The staff were cheerful and the conversation very good. If you’re skint, ravenous (skravenous?) or in a hurry it’s definitely recommended.
Blue Badge guide to London and academic specialising in early twentieth century history. Blogging on history, academia, and food and culture in the capital (and occasionally elsewhere).