Nonna — Restaurant in Amsterdam

Visiting a restaurant named Nonna in Amsterdam immediately sets an expectation: to rediscover the kind of Italian food passed down through generations — the kind only a true nonna would make, with time, care, and tradition. As an Italian, I came with that hope. What I found was something else.

The ambiance is lovely, clearly designed with the intention of evoking warmth and domestic comfort. The issue is not the aesthetic — it’s the execution, and more importantly, the narrative.

The carbonara is served without eggs or pepper, and the pasta was overcooked. The tiramisù is not made with traditional mascarpone, but with a white chocolate substitute, and the savoiardi aren’t soaked in coffee. What is listed as lasagna is actually melanzane alla parmigiana. And the shrimp tartare — expected to be raw and marinated, as tradition and the very definition require — was simply chopped, cooked prawns. These aren’t superficial differences; they are essential to the cultural identity of each dish.

Creativity and fusion have their place in any kitchen. But when a restaurant claims to serve “nonna’s authentic Italian cuisine,” the standard is higher. It’s not just about ingredients — it’s about respecting centuries of culinary knowledge and tradition.

What’s offered here is not authenticity, but a local reinterpretation of what Italian food is imagined to be. And while reinterpretation can be valid, calling it tradition erases the meaning of the culture it borrows from. When Italian cuisine is reduced to a concept — filtered, simplified, and sold under the comforting image of a “nonna” — it stops being homage. It becomes branding. And at some point, that stops...

I went to nonna for dinner with two girlfriends. When you come in you’ll be greeted by an horrendous sewage smell. Once you sit down this smell mixes with the smell of Parmesan cheese, not a lovely mixture as you can image. Secondly, wear a headlight because this restaurant apparently wants to save money on lighting. There are a few dangerous steps you easily miss if you don’t look out. A woman took a nasty fall when we were there and pretty sure she ended up getting stitches on her shin. The food is extremely bad. We ordered foccacia, which was stale. It tasted like three day old bread from a gas station. You wouldn’t even want to feed it to the ducks. The batter of the calamari was very salty, so I ended up chugging a whole bottle of water. The fish was filleted for us, but with each bite I had a piece fish bone. Lovely. Also it was 30 euros for a very small amount of fish. Not worth it all. The fries were the only good part. The vongole is once again very salty. Better take a big bottle of water with you when eating at nonna, you’ll need it. The vibes are cute, but it stinks and you’ll get very annoyed by the bad food and lacking service. Don’t go here, do yourself a favor and go to a better restaurant when...

Avoid Nonna — Overpriced, Overcooked, and Undrinkable (1/5)

I rarely write reviews, but my visit to Nonna was a masterclass in how to ruin a night out.

The calamari tasted like it had been fried in decade-old grease — heavy, stale, and nowhere near the light, crisp starter it should be. The chicken was rubbery and clearly not fresh, with a gummy texture that made it inedible. Both dishes were poorly seasoned and showed a worrying lack of care in the kitchen.

The cocktails were undrinkable — clearly made with cheap from‑concentrate ingredients and missing the spirits, as if assembled without attention or proper bar stock.

To make matters worse, our table was filthy. Service and general hospitality did nothing to redeem the experience; staff were inattentive and the whole evening felt sloppy. There are far better options in Amsterdam — steer clear of Nonna until they fix basic kitchen, bar, and cleanliness standards.

Further still- there's a sticker on the front door claiming the restaurant has a Michelin star, I checked,...