Admittedly, we arrived at the appointed hour for our cheese tasting with a bit of skepticism. There was a nagging sense that we might be in for something overly touristy—even though, of course, we were tourists.
That feeling began to fade almost immediately.
We were at Henri Willig Cheese ( https://henriwillig.com/en/cheese/), one of Amsterdam’s best-known tasting rooms, where rows of glowing wheels lined the walls like edible art and the entire space felt thoughtfully staged without being contrived.
We were introduced to Martin, our guide for the experience. From the outset, he came across as a proud steward of his craft—smiling, relaxed, and entirely at ease in his surroundings. Dressed in a traditional smock with a bright red neckerchief, he struck that rare balance between professionalism and approachability—the kind of person you instinctively trust to lead you through something new.
Behind him, rows of glowing wheels of cheese lined the walls like edible art. In front, a carefully arranged spread awaited us, hinting at what was to come. Martin’s easy grin and calm presence made it clear this wasn’t just a job—it felt more like a calling. Whether cheesemonger, host, or both, he carried the quiet confidence of someone who knows his craft intimately and takes genuine pleasure in sharing it.
Martin then walked us through the proud history of this family-run company, complemented by a short video that introduced the family behind it and offered a glimpse into the cheesemaking process.
Martin explained that, in reality, there are essentially only two types of cheese in the Netherlands—Gouda and Edam—but within those categories exists a surprising range of flavors and styles. For our tasting, we focused entirely on Gouda.
In front of us, long wooden boards arrived, neatly arranged with small wedges and cubes that looked, at first glance, deceptively similar. Pale yellows gave way to deeper golden tones; some were smooth and creamy, others firmer, edged with the faint promise of age. A few carried subtle additions—herbs, spices, or hints of sweetness or smokiness, quiet variations within a single tradition.
We worked our way down the board as Martin guided us, each bite revealing how much diversity could exist within one cheese. Younger Goudas were mild and buttery, almost delicate, while the aged varieties developed sharper, more complex notes—nutty, slightly crystalline, and lingering in a way that invited another taste.
Alongside the cheeses were small accompaniments—mustards, honey and balsamic dips, and crisp breadsticks—that subtly shifted the experience with each pairing. A touch of sweetness here, a bit of tang there, and suddenly the same cheese told a slightly different story.
What began as a simple tasting of “just Gouda” turned into something far more interesting—a reminder that even within a single category, there’s a world of variation to explore.
It turns out Martin is a very good salesman as well—we ended up ordering a shipment of cheese for delivery back home for just about everyone we know. while the experience may have been a little cheesy, we had clogs of fun.
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