What to Eat in Rotterdam

Rotterdam is a North Sea port on the Nieuwe Maas, where tides and trade shape daily life and what ends up on the plate. The maritime climate brings cool winds and regular rain, favoring hearty soups, preserved fish, and warm snacks for workers, students, and families.

Locals keep practical routines: bread-based lunches, coffee with something sweet, and quick street bites between errands. Migration, especially from Suriname and Indonesia, layered traditional Dutch fare with chilies, pickles, and spice mixes now integral to everyday eating.

Kapsalon is a layered tray built in snack bars across the city: a base of freshly fried patat, a heap of thinly sliced shoarma or döner from the rotisserie, grated Gouda scattered over the top and briefly broiled until it melts into the meat and fries. It is finished with a cool salad of iceberg lettuce, tomato, and cucumber plus two essential condiments—creamy knoflooksaus and fiery sambal—so every forkful moves from hot and salty to crisp and tangy. Created in Rotterdam in the early 2000s and named after a barber’s “kapsalon,” the dish mirrors the port’s habit of mixing influences to suit long shifts and late nights; it remains a favorite after concerts and clubbing, but also works as a substantial midday meal for those needing caloric ballast. Its signature aluminum tray keeps heat in, so the cheese stretches, the fries stay fluffy under a crisp shell, and the fresh salad cools the palate between mouthfuls of spice and garlic.

Rotterdammers mark the season for Hollandse Nieuwe haring each late spring, when young North Sea herring are cleaned—pancreas left in to drive enzymatic ripening—then matured in a mild brine and frozen to meet modern food safety rules before being sold. At haringkarren around the city, the fish is served whole or as a broodje haring in a soft roll, typically with fijn gesnipperde uitjes and sliced pickles; many locals lift it by the tail and take clean bites, letting the silky flesh glide across the palate. The taste is gently saline and buttery from the high fat content, with a lightly fermented aroma and a soft, almost custardy texture offset by the bite of onion and vinegar-bright pickle. The ritual underscores the port’s connection to the North Sea and remains an anytime snack or quick lunch, especially in the early weeks of the season when the catch is at its richest.

Erwtensoep, also called snert, thickens slowly as split peas simmer with pork knuckle or ham bone, bay leaf, and water until the legumes break down; later, diced celeriac, leek, carrot, potato, and a ring of smoky rookworst are added, and the pot bubbles until creamy and aromatic. Traditional versions in Rotterdam are cooked a day ahead so they set; served piping hot with slices of dark roggebrood and katenspek, the soup turns spoon-standing thick, with a velvety pea body, sweet root vegetables, and pockets of savory sausage and cured pork. It is classic winter fare for a city of cyclists and dockworkers: practical, inexpensive, and warming on damp, windy days, appearing in homes, workplace canteens, and casual cafés from late autumn through the coldest months. Families often freeze portions for quick weeknight dinners, and its modest ingredients reflect the Netherlands’ long tradition of turning cool-season produce and preserved meats into satisfying, calorie-dense meals.

A broodje bakkeljauw centers on salted cod that has been soaked to reduce salinity, then flaked and sautéed with onion, tomato, celery, and garlic; in Surinamese kitchens a fragrant yellow chili such as Madam Jeanette provides heat, and some cooks enrich the mixture with a little tomato paste or scrambled egg. The seasoned fish is piled into a soft white roll, often with pickled vegetables and a smear of sambal for extra fire, creating a sandwich that balances chewy bread, tender flakes of fish, salt, spice, and a faint sweetness from cooked tomato. Rotterdam’s sizeable Surinamese community popularized this street-side lunch after the 1970s, and today it is a common midday order at bakeries and toko counters across the city, equally at home during festivals or as a portable bite between errands. Its tropical aromatics and briny fish tie the Caribbean and the North Sea together in a way that feels authentic to a port built on global trade.

Stroopwafels pair two thin, griddled wafers made from a buttery, cinnamon-scented dough with a warm syrup filling of treacle, brown sugar, and butter; a fresh waffle is sliced horizontally, spread with stroop, and pressed back together so the caramel seeps into the honeycomb grid. Though the style originated in nearby Gouda in the nineteenth century, warm stroopwafels are a fixture at Rotterdam markets and bakeries, where people often set one over a hot mug to soften the center while the edges stay crisp. The result is a chewy–crisp texture with toasted notes and deep caramel sweetness that pairs naturally with coffee or tea, making it a mid-morning treat or an afternoon pick-me-up in cooler weather. The cookie’s durability also suits a cycling city: easily wrapped for a commute yet best enjoyed warm when the syrup loosens and the spice becomes aromatic.

Rotterdam’s food blends maritime pragmatism with the flavors of its diverse communities, yielding dishes that are hearty, direct, and often portable. From cured fish to split-pea stews and Surinamese sandwiches, the city favors clear tastes and textures built for real-weather days. If this snapshot whets your appetite, explore more food culture and seasonal travel insights on Sunheron.com, and use our guides to plan meals around markets, festivals, and the best weather for eating outdoors.