I heard about Little Collins in January, when I was travelling in South Africa. The prospect of good brunch in Amsterdam was one of the few things that made coming back to winter in the northern hemisphere bearable.
Little Collins' brunches are served all day, and the selection of dishes available reflects that: muesli and yoghurt, and wonderful-sounding coconut French toast with lemon curd for the early risers, soup and salad for the sensible drinkers, and stodgier smoked mackerel kedgeree or corn fritters for the hangover crowd.
My benchmark of a good brunch is the eggs, hard to find in Amsterdam except in scrambled or fried form, so I ordered eggs hollandaise. I was sitting next to the large window overlooking Eerste Sweelinckstraat, a quiet street off Albert Cuypmarkt.
As joggers from Sarphatipark walked past, looking sweaty and smug, I tucked into spinach and ham glossy with butter-rich hollandaise sauce and perfectly poached eggs that erupted like little volcanoes when I cut into them.
The owners are Australian and word of Little Collins' opening has clearly spread through the Aussie expat community. On the Sunday morning I visited, Australians were in the majority and the waitress seemed to be struggling to handle the orders. Slow service normally has me grumbling something about ineffective staffing, but if you can’t linger over brunch, when can you?
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