We just spent a whirlwind long weekend in Amsterdam and, as usual, I had a list of food-related places to check out: Chocolátl for chocolate bars from around the world and gourmet hot cocoa, Puccini Bomboni for more chocolate, the Foodhallen for gourmet takes on local bar treat bitterballen at De BallenBar and the Pancake Bakery (for obvious reasons). Oh, and after our canal cruise, I added another stop to our list: Winkel 43, which is supposed to have the best apple pie in the city (and was right down the street from our Airbnb).

While we wanted to play things by ear a bit when it came to dinner, I knew I needed at least to have at least one place nailed down before we arrived. After a little research, I decided on Restaurant Daalder, whose concept intrigued me: The only choices you have to make are the number of courses and your beverage; the chefs do the rest.

The atmosphere is very bistro-y, casual and unpretentious. We dressed up a bit, but there were plenty of people in jeans. With a 6:30 reservation, we were the very first to arrive, but the staff made us feel right at home, and we got our pick of tables, a primo spot right by the window.

We ordered the six-course menu, which ended up being nine courses in all once you added in the amuse bouches and additional dessert. The service was so well-paced, however, that we never felt stuffed–even though we were ready to stop at the end.

First up was an amuse bouche of a mini pastrami sandwich, which was served along with a beet sorbet topped by a milk foam, a few dots of olive oil and a sprinkle of salt. The sorbet was amazing–sweet and tangy and cool on the palate.

The first “official” course was tuna tartare. The cubed fish was topped with diced watermelon and avocado and finished with greens, then partially surrounded by a lightly jalapeño-spiced gazpacho (once again accented with dots of olive oil). I love sushi, so this dish was a total hit. I wasn’t sure what I would think of the watermelon, but its sweetness made a very appealing partner for the meatiness of the tuna.

In between courses, we went to town on the housemade bread: the interior nice and tender, the exterior deliciously crusty. The thick slices were accompanied by fresh butter, a brand-new bottle of olive oil and flaky sea salt–super simple ingredients but all really high quality.

The bread definitely came in handy for the next visitor to our table: “the perfect egg.” And it was perfectly cooked, the yolk spreading out into the bowl when I dipped into it with my spoon. It was covered in a brown butter sauce that also hid a few thin slices of cauliflower and brioche croutons. I LOVED this dish. If I could make this at home (and to be honest, I probably could if I had the desire to make all the elements–that’s the killer), I would eat it all the time. So creamy. So rich. So flavorful. I used the rest of our bread to sop up every last bit.

The mains hit next, with turbot up first. It was paired with an airy white wine beurre blanc, mushrooms, hazelnuts (great crunch!) and sea vegetables. It was quite nice but probably my least favorite–I’m just not a huge fan of turbot. That said, it was still fantastic.

Following that, our server brought out a gorgeous duck dish that was also a bit playful. (My iPhone photos, taken in horrible lighting, don’t do any of these dishes any favors.) The pistachio-crusted slices of fowl (accented with a bit of orange) came with bourbon jus and corn puree. Then in a nice display of fun, the corn cobs–missing half their kernels–were used to serve two squares of cornbread topped with a goose liver pâté. We joked to our server that we had thought about gnawing on the (uncooked) cobs to see his reaction, and he told us about a table that had once done just that. Nothing’s original anymore.

There was one more savory course to go, and it starred one of top food indulgences: foie gras. This piece was served with a red peach compote that worked incredibly well with the richness of the foie. It was garnished with an edible flower, whose crimson color perfectly matched the hue of the peaches, a special variety that comes from France. Our server told us how, twice a week, the kitchen team drove to the food market in Paris to buy produce for the restaurant. “The quality is just much better,” he said. I’d heard about these famous red peaches and can say that they were as good as I’d been led to believe they’d be.

We were winding down and so was the menu, fortunately. A light yogurt dish featuring Mirabelle plum, yuzu and jasmine was set down first–and gone pretty quickly (always room for dessert). Then came the closer: sea salt caramel ice cream dressed up with a snaking of homemade hazelnut spread.

All of this bliss came to only 65 euros each, plus 5 euros for a nice glass of wine. We left happy and sated and talking about when we could return.