Ask a Dutch person what counts as real comfort food, and chances are a potato will appear somewhere on the plate.

Mashed, fried, boiled, baked, the Netherlands has been enthusiastically putting potatoes into nearly every meal for generations. Few things feel more traditionally Dutch than a large pan of stamppot on the table while rain taps against the windows outside.

But in Amsterdam, the relationship with potatoes once became serious enough to start a riot.

An actual riot.

A City Built on Simple Food

At the beginning of the 20th century, potatoes were more than just dinner. For many working-class families in neighbourhoods like the Jordaan, they were survival food.

Cheap. Filling. Reliable.

A warm plate of potatoes after a long workday wasn’t considered luxury, it was simply what kept households going. In small Amsterdam kitchens, meals were built around whatever could feed the most people for the least money. And potatoes did that job remarkably well.

So when shortages hit during the First World War, anxiety spread quickly through the city.

The Netherlands remained neutral during the war, but food scarcity reached Amsterdam anyway. Bread became rationed, prices rose sharply, and soup kitchens appeared across the city to help feed struggling families.

Then came the potato shortage.

And suddenly, Amsterdam became a very tense place.

“Then Eat Rice Instead”

The shortage grew so severe that alderman Josephus Jitta suggested people simply switch to rice instead, since rice supplies were still available.

Which, culturally speaking, was not a strong opening move.

Trying to convince the Jordaan to replace potatoes with rice was a little like asking Italians to take a break from pasta. Technically possible. Emotionally complicated.

For many Amsterdam families, a meal without potatoes barely counted as a meal at all.

The Women of the Jordaan Had Enough

On June 28th, 1917, rumours spread through the city that a ship loaded with potatoes was docked along the Prinsengracht, reserved for the military while ordinary citizens struggled to feed their families.

And that’s when things erupted.

Women from the Jordaan poured into the streets and headed toward the canal. Among them were women like Bertha de Vries-De Hondt, and likely also the well-known local figure Kee Spek, who would later become symbolic of the strong, outspoken women of the neighbourhood.

They weren’t there for spectacle.

They were there because children at home needed food.

Police attempted to control the crowds, but tensions escalated quickly. Shops were looted, barges were emptied, and workers joined the protests in solidarity with the women. Songs spread through the streets accusing traders of hoarding food while prices continued rising.

What began as frustration over potatoes became something much larger: anger over inequality, hunger and survival.

When a Potato Became a Symbol

On July 5th, the unrest reached its breaking point at Haarlemmerplein.

Soldiers were ordered to fire into the crowd. Panic spread through the streets as people fled in every direction. By the end, nine people had been killed and more than a hundred were injured.

All over potatoes.

But of course, it was never really just about potatoes.

For many families in Amsterdam, food wasn’t about culinary trends or elaborate dinners. It was about getting something warm onto the table. About making sure a pan stretched far enough for everyone sitting around it.

The potato had quietly become a symbol of stability. Of familiarity. Of knowing there would be enough.

And in difficult times, those things matter enormously.

Why Dutch Comfort Food Still Matters

More than a century later, the Dutch are still remarkably loyal to potatoes.

Stamppot, buttery mashed potatoes, split pea soup, croquettes, these dishes remain deeply woven into everyday Dutch food culture. Not because they’re fashionable, but because they feel grounding.

And maybe that’s why they continue to survive in a city that constantly reinvents itself.

Amsterdam grows more international every year. New cuisines arrive, food trends come and go, oat milk quietly conquers entire neighbourhoods.

But somewhere, someone is still making a massive pan of stamppot exactly the way their grandparents did.

And honestly? The city would feel strange without it.

More Than Just a Riot

Today, the Potato Riot of Amsterdam is remembered as a moment of social unrest during wartime. But it also reveals something timeless about the city itself.

Food here has never been only about taste.

It’s about community. Survival. Familiarity. About gathering around something warm after a long day and knowing, at least for one evening, that everyone at the table is fed.

Which may explain why the Dutch remain so emotionally attached to potatoes.

Some traditions survive because they’re practical.

Others survive because they remind people who they are.