Oat Flat W.
Yelp
It was an embarrassing day to be Australian.
I excitedly recommended to my Dutch friend, that we should go to Little Collins in De Pijp, a short ride from where we had just done a workout. Fanging for some solid brunch goodness, we pulled up stumps and walked into the premises, only to be ignored by either an understaffed cafe, or hipsters fresh from 'somewhere more dope from where you're from' **judgementally looks person up-and-down**
Once seated, the menus came and the waitstaff went, only to reappear and take our orders about 10 minutes later. Granted, she was friendly, had good banter, enthusiastically took our order and was restoring my faith in what is a semi-famous place for good eats. I was hopeful that this experience was going to prove the review in Het Parool's August 17th issue of P.S wrong, and I would be writing the resistance piece on Little Collins.
Unfortunately, like the Rüfüs song, You Were Right, Gillies van der Loo. They do exude disinterest, like a kid following a butterfly's flight during an AusKick game at The Gabba.
Our food arrived before our drinks, and catching the attention of waitstaff regarding our missing drinks was like trying to catch a tram down Little Collins Street in Melbourne - you have two walk to find it. We also had to point out that the order was wrong, and sausage was not requested with the Cilbir. No less than 25 seconds later, the food reappeared, with suspicious imprints of where sausage used to be on the bed of yoghurt. Luckily it's not the meat flavour that annoys me.
When we were enjoying our food - because yes, once it does arrive it is flavoursome, delicious, layered with textures and a good-sized portion - a third waitstaff arrived with our drink. No, I'm not forgetting my plural for more than one drink. There was two of us, and one drink arrived. The fourth person of waiter/essing status arrived with the final piece in our brunch puzzle, and by this point, my companion and I needed to get out of here.
Watching the waitstaff hurriedly rush around, looking lost (or not looking at patrons at all) is not the type of behaviour that elicits success, which pales in comparison to the two experiences I have had at Little Collins on the Bilderdijk. Funnily enough, one of the waitstaff there said to me, "we pride ourselves on our service, so that Dutch people can recognise what good service is, ya know?"
Mate, not even Australians would accept this type of service in Australia.
If you want brunch at Little Collins, their cafe on the Bilderdijk is a better representation of the quality you'd expect from the Colony.
2.5/5