Restaurant Bellavista, located in a pleasant but posh neighborhood of Amsterdam (Oud Zuid) was fairly crowded on Sunday night, the music was rather loud, as if the owners knew that their customers feared that other diners might listen to their intimate conversations.
Next to our table four men were seated, the youngest was in his thirties, the oldest, a man with a cap, in his fifties. They didn’t drink wine or beer, just coke and water, they ordered a pizza, a few appetizers and then a couple of desserts.
I had the feeling that at least one of them could have been a contract killer, and that all of them were working for more or less organized crime.
Nobody got killed that night, but the service in Bellavista was mediocre, the food slightly above average, nevertheless, from an anthropological perspective Bellavista is highly recommended.