Our man in the provinces went out for dinner in Harderwijk (and has been in a food coma ever since)
He ate out several times a week, always searching for the tastiest herring, most fun wine, juiciest hamburger or best meat thermometer. But six months ago, journalist Marcel Langedijk swapped Amsterdam for the Provinces. Is it bearable there for a lover of good food and drink? This week he discovered that Harderwijk has more to offer than a dolphinarium.
Anyone who doesn’t know better might think that Harderwijk has little more going for it than its dolphinarium. And as a city, that would leave you with one hell of a problem now that the dolphinarium has gradually become the Black Pete of animal attractions. It even seems only a matter of time before major contemporary thinkers such as Kim Kardashian and Waka Flocka take to Twitter to weigh in on Dolfinarium Gate, ushering in the definitive downfall of this animal attraction. Which, incidentally, isn’t a bad thing, because although I have nothing against dolphins, I think every animal should be able to live its life in freedom instead of among screaming children. But it does suck for Harderwijk, because there’s nothing else there.
Charcoal and grilled meat
Or is there? You bet! For logistical reasons, I had arranged to meet three friends in the Gelderland city, and it turned out that Harderwijk is actually great, even on a Monday evening when the rain lashes the picturesque town center. No one in the streets, but that makes sense: it’s dinnertime, and even the most beautiful town center can get lost when your stomach is empty. Thanks to a local contact, I knew exactly where my hunger could be satisfied. So I google-mapped my way to Hondegatstraat (no joke), home for the past two years to restaurant Dikke Dirck, run by twentysomethings Luc Dielissen and Maesa Advokaat. I shuddered briefly at the restaurant’s motto, ‘enjoy eating and drinking together,’ because that sounds like high tea, potpourri, scented candles and wooden HOME letters on the windowsill, but thank God Dirck mostly smells of charcoal and grilled meat. The music is turned up loud and the interior is a cheerfully hysterical mix of cushions, paintings, wooden benches, chairs, hanging plants, globes and a Chesterfield-style sofa. Think Dille & Kamille slash Sissy Boy slash thrift store with a hint of Yvon Jaspers.
Heart Attack Platter
You can get fish or vegetarian dishes at Dirck too, but everything tells you that this place is mainly about grilled meat, so that’s exactly what we order: two Dirck’s Dijenkletser platters, with enough meat to feed a small Drenthe village for a day. Or four hungry men of a certain age. We get buffalo wings, pork belly, beef sausage, two kinds of ham, plus some pickles and a crostini with goat’s cheese for appearances’ sake – all perfectly good. Though I immediately regret choosing spareribs for my main course. Because: so much. But the meat falls off the bone, they’re the best ribs I’ve had in ages, and I’ll just live on millet for the rest of the week. Since we’re here anyway, and the equally friendly and outspoken staff persuade us, we also dare to order the Smulplank, later renamed Heart Attack Platter by us that evening. Very tasty, but we can see how that Dirck got so fat. Just so you know: you can eat more than well there on Harderwijk’s Hondegatstraat, but remember that a single main and side dish will also do the job perfectly well.
Including whisky bar
When paying – a little over fifty euros per person, including five bottles of sparkling water, some specialty beers and a few glasses of wine – we hear that they use the best meat in the region, make all the sauces and glazes themselves, and that next time we really must try the tomahawk (€ 6.70 per 100 grams). The showstopper. More good news, especially for Randstad residents who think Harderwijk is too far away: from next month, a second, larger location will open in Amersfoort due to its great success. Including a whisky bar. And there isn’t a single dolphin to be found in Amersfoort, so even the Kardashianettes can stop by without fear.
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