For the English Pages’ ongoing reviews of places to eat in Delft, this week we put our taste buds at the mercy of eettafel ‘Wolbodo’, a cheap student dinner place known for its low prices and especially edible food.
Delen
Although it seems hard to believe, ‘De Menschen Vereeniging’ (The People’s Society) Wolbodo was actually founded by the Roman Catholic Church in 1959. Shortly thereafter, the PSK, as it was then known, got lucky: the owner of a teahouse on Verwersdijk 102 hung himself in front of his teahouse, and the young club was able to purchase the building at a bargain price.
At the start of the turbulent 1960s, the PSK parted with the church, changing its name to St. Wolbodo, in reference to an obscure 11th century bishop of Luik, Belgium, of whom little is known except that he’s said to be the patron saint of students. Today, Wolbodo is said to have the most eccentric dinner table of all Delft’s student societies.
Neither the oldest nor the largest, Wolbodo is certainly the most notorious student club in the Delft student subculture. The reasons for club’s fame are difficult to define, as is the precise nature of its fame. Perhaps it’s events such as the club’s ‘Desert Party’, which involved dumping two tons of sand in the building, switching the heat on, sealing all exits, and serving no drinks, or the existence of Carrus Plicatus, a sub-club devoted to camping caravans, which owns two caravans, but no car to pull them with, that makes Wolbodo so popular in student gossip.
It all seems to be part of the anarchist ideology of Wolbodo, whose members are renowned for being distinctly vague. Until recently, dinners at Wolbodo were prepared by Miguel, a legendary Portuguese cook famous for his unexpected combinations of classic and modern cuisine, such as potato mash with pineapple. Miguel has since retired and been replaced by Mike, who originates from Indonesia and is eager to continue the experimental cooking tradition.
Tonight Mike is going back to his roots, serving Chinese bullion, nasi with foe yong hai and capcai with/without chicken. The dinner is scheduled to start at 18:30, but there’s some delay, so we spend time in the club’s backyard, chewing on the lush grapes hanging from vines.
Dinner begins, and the soup is delicious, reminding me of the kneidelach my Grandma used to make, though with a decidedly eastern touch. Wolbodo doesn’t have a specific dining area, and as the weather is warm, most people eat in the backyard or on the scaffolding covering the building’s faade.
The nasi and capcai main course also turns out quite nice, although after years living in Holland, I’m no longer used to really spicy food. After the main course, Mike comes out of the kitchen to ask the guests if they liked the dinner, a gesture well-appreciated by all present.
A quick survey of diners gives the dinner a highly respectable score of 8 (out of 10). We finish with coffee, and dessert that includes a choice of vla, yogurt, or speculaas and whip cream.
Times aren’t what they used to be, though. Wolbodo is no longer a Catholic club and even St. Wolbodo was de-sainted by the Church in 1988 . apparently, he wasn’t so great after all. But one thing is certain: Verwersdijk 102 is the place to go to taste some original cooking and that oh so Dutch liberality, which is the real reason for Wolbodo’s fame.
The dinner table is open from Tuesday to Thursday at 18:30. Dinner for one: 3.20 euro. The daily menu is on the website.
Although it seems hard to believe, ‘De Menschen Vereeniging’ (The People’s Society) Wolbodo was actually founded by the Roman Catholic Church in 1959. Shortly thereafter, the PSK, as it was then known, got lucky: the owner of a teahouse on Verwersdijk 102 hung himself in front of his teahouse, and the young club was able to purchase the building at a bargain price.
At the start of the turbulent 1960s, the PSK parted with the church, changing its name to St. Wolbodo, in reference to an obscure 11th century bishop of Luik, Belgium, of whom little is known except that he’s said to be the patron saint of students. Today, Wolbodo is said to have the most eccentric dinner table of all Delft’s student societies.
Neither the oldest nor the largest, Wolbodo is certainly the most notorious student club in the Delft student subculture. The reasons for club’s fame are difficult to define, as is the precise nature of its fame. Perhaps it’s events such as the club’s ‘Desert Party’, which involved dumping two tons of sand in the building, switching the heat on, sealing all exits, and serving no drinks, or the existence of Carrus Plicatus, a sub-club devoted to camping caravans, which owns two caravans, but no car to pull them with, that makes Wolbodo so popular in student gossip.
It all seems to be part of the anarchist ideology of Wolbodo, whose members are renowned for being distinctly vague. Until recently, dinners at Wolbodo were prepared by Miguel, a legendary Portuguese cook famous for his unexpected combinations of classic and modern cuisine, such as potato mash with pineapple. Miguel has since retired and been replaced by Mike, who originates from Indonesia and is eager to continue the experimental cooking tradition.
Tonight Mike is going back to his roots, serving Chinese bullion, nasi with foe yong hai and capcai with/without chicken. The dinner is scheduled to start at 18:30, but there’s some delay, so we spend time in the club’s backyard, chewing on the lush grapes hanging from vines.
Dinner begins, and the soup is delicious, reminding me of the kneidelach my Grandma used to make, though with a decidedly eastern touch. Wolbodo doesn’t have a specific dining area, and as the weather is warm, most people eat in the backyard or on the scaffolding covering the building’s faade.
The nasi and capcai main course also turns out quite nice, although after years living in Holland, I’m no longer used to really spicy food. After the main course, Mike comes out of the kitchen to ask the guests if they liked the dinner, a gesture well-appreciated by all present.
A quick survey of diners gives the dinner a highly respectable score of 8 (out of 10). We finish with coffee, and dessert that includes a choice of vla, yogurt, or speculaas and whip cream.
Times aren’t what they used to be, though. Wolbodo is no longer a Catholic club and even St. Wolbodo was de-sainted by the Church in 1988 . apparently, he wasn’t so great after all. But one thing is certain: Verwersdijk 102 is the place to go to taste some original cooking and that oh so Dutch liberality, which is the real reason for Wolbodo’s fame.
The dinner table is open from Tuesday to Thursday at 18:30. Dinner for one: 3.20 euro. The daily menu is on the website.
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