Walk through the Red Light District in Amsterdam after dark, and you’ll see more than just neon lights and window displays. You’ll smell garlic sizzling in butter, hear the clink of beer glasses, and catch the scent of freshly baked stroopwafels drifting from hidden bakeries. The city’s most controversial corner is also one of its most vibrant eating spots-and the connection isn’t just coincidence. It’s history, economics, and culture woven together.
The Red Light District Was Never Just About Sex
People assume the Red Light District exists because of prostitution. But it started as a trading hub. In the 16th century, sailors from all over Europe docked here. They needed food, drink, and shelter. Brothels opened because demand was high. But so did taverns, bakeries, and fish stalls. The women working in the windows weren’t isolated-they were part of a working-class ecosystem. The same women who greeted clients in the evening often ate at the same cafes as the dockworkers. The same landlords who rented out rooms above the windows also owned the downstairs eateries.
Today, that legacy lives on. The district’s food scene didn’t grow *despite* the sex industry-it grew *because* of it. The steady flow of people-tourists, locals, workers, and visitors-created a market that couldn’t be ignored. And over time, that market evolved into something richer than just quick bites for horny sailors.
Where the Workers Eat: The Hidden Cafés
Ask any local where the best bitterballen are in the Red Light District, and they won’t point you to the tourist traps on Damrak. They’ll tell you about De Pijp’s little sister, a no-name bar tucked behind a red curtain on Oudezijds Achterburgwal. It’s been open since 1972. The owner, a former sex worker, still serves the same Dutch stew every night at 8 p.m.-just for the women who work nearby. No menu. No prices listed. You pay what you can.
There’s also De Koe, a tiny lunch spot near the Oude Kerk, where the owner makes a mean herring sandwich with raw onions and pickles. He doesn’t advertise. His regulars? Taxi drivers, security guards, and women who work the windows. He knows their names. He knows when they’ve had a rough shift. He’ll slip them an extra slice of cheese if they look tired.
These places aren’t tourist attractions. They’re survival networks. The women who work here don’t have time for fancy dinners. They need quick, cheap, filling food. And the people who serve it? They understand that.
The Rise of the Food Tourists
Over the last decade, food tourism exploded in Amsterdam. Instagram influencers started posting “hidden gems” in the Red Light District-“Try the stroopwafel at 2 a.m.!” “The best bitterballen in the city is behind a red door!”
But here’s the twist: most of these “hidden gems” weren’t hidden at all. They were always there. Just for the locals. Now, the same places that fed sex workers for 50 years are being marketed as “edgy culinary experiences.” Tourists line up outside De Drie Gezusters, a 1920s-era café that once served sailors and their companions, now charging €12 for a coffee and a cookie.
The irony? The women who helped build this food culture are rarely mentioned in the guides. They’re erased from the narrative. The food gets the spotlight. The people who made it possible? Invisible.
How the Food Industry Supports the Workers
It’s not just about meals. It’s about safety. Many of the women who work in the Red Light District rely on local food vendors for more than just food. They leave their keys with the bakery owner when they go on a client. They borrow phones from the barista when their service is down. They leave their coats at the sandwich shop when they’re in a hurry.
In 2023, a group of restaurant owners formed a mutual aid network. They call it De Tafel-The Table. Members agree to: keep an eye on women who seem distressed, call the police if someone looks unsafe, offer free coffee to anyone who asks, and never report a worker to immigration-even if they’re undocumented.
One owner, a Moroccan immigrant who runs a small kebab stall, told me: “I came here with nothing. They gave me work. Now I give them safety. That’s how it works.”
What You’ll Find on the Menu
Don’t expect Michelin stars. Expect real food. Here’s what you’ll actually find in the Red Light District’s best spots:
- Stroopwafels-fresh, warm, still dripping with syrup. Best at Bakkerij de Bloem, open until 3 a.m.
- Bitterballen-crispy fried meatballs with thick mustard. The secret? Beef shank, slow-cooked for 12 hours.
- Haring-raw herring with onions. Eaten standing up, like a street snack. No fork needed.
- Stamppot-mashed potatoes with kale or sauerkraut, smothered in bacon. Hearty. Filling. Perfect after a long night.
- Java Koffie-strong black coffee with a shot of Jenever. The local nightcap.
These aren’t fancy dishes. They’re working-class food. Made for people who don’t have time to sit down. That’s why they taste so good.
Why This Connection Matters
The Red Light District isn’t a theme park. It’s a neighborhood. And like any neighborhood, its economy is messy, real, and deeply human. The food isn’t a side note-it’s part of the same system that keeps people alive.
When you eat at a place in the Red Light District, you’re not just tasting Dutch cuisine. You’re tasting resilience. You’re tasting community. You’re tasting the quiet, unspoken agreements that let people survive in a city that doesn’t always care about them.
Ignore the tourists with their selfie sticks. Go to the places where the workers eat. Sit at the counter. Order the stew. Say thank you. That’s the real Amsterdam experience.
What to Do If You Visit
If you’re going to the Red Light District, here’s how to do it right:
- Don’t take photos of the windows. It’s disrespectful-and illegal.
- Don’t ask workers about their lives. They’re not there to entertain you.
- Go to the cafes. Sit down. Order food. Talk to the staff.
- Tip generously. Many workers rely on tips. So do the waiters.
- Leave your judgment at the door. This isn’t a spectacle. It’s a life.
The Red Light District isn’t something to consume. It’s something to respect.
Are call girls in Amsterdam legal?
Yes, prostitution is legal in the Netherlands under strict regulations. Workers must be over 18, registered with the city, and work in licensed premises. The Red Light District is one of the few places where window prostitution is officially permitted. But the system is flawed-many workers are undocumented or exploited, and enforcement is inconsistent.
Is it safe to eat in the Red Light District at night?
Yes, if you stick to the busy streets and known spots. The area is well-lit and patrolled by security. Most restaurants stay open until 3 a.m. and have staff who know the regulars. Avoid alleyways and unlit side streets. Stick to places with lights on and people inside.
Do the food vendors know the sex workers?
Many do. Some have worked with the same women for decades. Others are new, but still recognize the rhythm of the neighborhood. It’s not unusual for a baker to hand a worker a free stroopwafel without asking. That’s not charity-it’s community.
Why don’t more tourists know about these restaurants?
Because they’re not marketed to tourists. They’re run by locals for locals. Many don’t have websites. Some don’t even have signs. You find them by asking, not Googling. That’s why they’ve stayed authentic.
Can I meet a sex worker while eating at one of these places?
No. That’s not how it works. These are workplaces, not dating apps. Workers are not there to be approached for services while eating. If you’re looking for that, you’re missing the point-and risking your safety and theirs.
If you want to understand Amsterdam, don’t just see its lights. Taste its food. Listen to its people. And remember: behind every window, there’s a life. And behind every kitchen, there’s a story.
