Maxime Tevreden, Neighbours Kitchen
plant-based
soul food
Maxime Tevreden is the Surinamese-Dutch owner and chef of Neighbours Kitchen, located outside of Amsterdam in Almere. Originally opened as a tea house, Neighbours Kitchen is Almere’s first plant-based restaurant, and is an inspiring representation of Maxime's desire for the lunchroom to be an extension of herself. From supper-clubs hosted as a teenager to cultivating an inviting community space, Maxime discusses her culinary journey, coming home to herself through vegan Caribbean cooking, and breaks down the difference between cultural reclamation and celebration.
15-18 minute read
In conversation with Taylor Early
Taylor: Tell me your story— how did you come to find your place in food and at Neighbours Kitchen?
Maxime: I was born and bred on the north side of Amsterdam, and then we moved here [to Almere]. So I still have that city mentality, and I brought it here. I used to work in special education, like 6 years ago now. And I was still living with my ex-boyfriend in another place in Almere, and then at some point I had to find a new place-- a new home. That’s when I found out about this new neighbourhood, and this new pilot thing with an Almere woningcooperatie. The housing association said, “well, this is a new neighbourhood, but this has to be kind of a suburban village-style thing.” So I thought, this is a nice challenge for me, since the rest of the Almere neighbourhoods are just houses-- there’s no soul there. They told me that I could live in this building, and that they have a commercial space to create something for the neighbourhood as well, a place where entrepreneurs can do their thing. So I pitched my idea: a coffee house for the neighbourhood.
At first I didn’t quit my job in special education, of course. I did a small crowd funding and in the beginning, and this coffee house or tea room was just like any other tea room. It was a place I created with a very low budget, and all I could think was “okay, if I want to be successful, the tea house has to be for the people in this neighbourhood.” This neighbourhood is mostly white people, and there’s not a lot of diversity here. So I thought, “if we’re in the low-lands of the Netherlands, it has to be a classic tea room where people can get their apple cake. Let’s just serve them that, and then they’re happy.”
And they were! It was really a great success, I really have a good sense of interior style, and created a space that was unique for Almere; a place with a soul that’s colourful and is different. People came from all over Almere to come experience the space and drink some tea. It was just simple. Although it was going well, at some point I started to get a bit restless. I served pretty mainstream vegan food, like the shoarma bowl or the couscous salad. But for me, whenever I do something, I want some vierdieping-- some depth-- to what I’m doing.
Back to me! (laughs)
My boyfriend came to live with me in Almere about three years ago from Amsterdam, But when I met him, I realized that this was a whole different experience. I’m from a mixed background, with a Dutch mother and a Surinamese father. And I didn’t know a lot about my culture, besides the festivities and the food. Which I loved, and still love, obviously! So when we met, I was introduced into this new family and got the whole experience when it comes to the culture of Suriname, my boyfriend being Surinamese himself. It was a really big eye opener, and that’s when I started to do some research on my culture. At some point, I realized that I wanted my lunchroom to be more of an extension of who I am. Or else it would be, in Dutch we would say nikse-- it doesn’t mean anything. Just a lunchroom.
So that’s where I started this journey, into my cultural history. I started to do a lot of reading and getting in touch with a lot of different chefs, mostly based in Amsterdam-- that’s where it all happens. But that’s when I brought the Kitchen and culture to this place, the whole scenery changed. Everything changed! People started loving it more, but I also had to start telling them the story.
Storytelling is a big part of Neighbours Kitchen. Otherwise people won’t get it, and they won’t come. People can be very ignorant, but not in a negative way— asking if my food was Surinamese food, if it was Caribbean-inspired… “where is the Caribbean, by the way? Is it just one island?” For them, it was all new. During the lockdown, I did a lot of different meals, really getting into Caribbean cooking. And I started following all of these chefs on social media from Trinidad and Jamaica, and it just really felt as if I was in a good place with good energy-- it felt like home.
A little background on my family, on my Surinamese side: My grandfather and grandmother came to the Netherlands when they were 17 as first-generation immigrants. Their aim was to make their children fit in, so when it comes to learning things about my culture, I didn’t get much from that side. My dad never spoke a word of Sranan Tongo, I didn’t know anything about the culture or the people, only my family. So even though this is all new, I was still recognising things. For example, people tell me, “When you laugh from your belly, that’s your Caribbean side!”
So that’s where I am, in a nutshell.
That’s amazing. I’m not a chef myself, but I recognise that searching-- searching for where you came from. I’m mixed as well; my dad is Black and my mom is white, and I grew up in a very white village in New Hampshire (United States). A few years back, one of my family members, while doing the genealogy for my father’s side, found out that our family name goes back to slavery, but until recently, no further than that. We didn’t know from where in Africa we originated. So for years, it always sat very heavy on my heart that my Black identity was dictated by whiteness. But just recently I found out that our people are from Angola, and I couldn’t believe that I had a place to call “home”, a place to research, a people to claim, and people to claim me. It changes things.
Yes! And the connection is even visible when it comes to your features. My family is from the west of Africa, where you see the bigger, stronger jaws. And when I look at my grandmother, I’m like, of course!
What does it mean to you to reclaim culture, and tap into your identity through cooking food? Especially in a predominantly white country like the Netherlands? Is there anything that makes you feel particularly connected?
I think it came very naturally, you know. Referring to my roots, or my family background, I always loved family gatherings. During the weekends, we would be together, we had this huge family. My grandma doesn’t cook, so my grandfather cooked.
But I loved those gatherings. When we came to Almere, we kind of lost touch with our family, they were all still back in Amsterdam, so we didn’t go to my grandmother’s house that often anymore. That’s where I actually started my own supper clubs at home with my friends. I just loved cooking, and I loved bringing people together. I think that’s fundamental to what I’m doing here: being the entertainer, the cook, the host of a group-- that’s what I love to do. And I think that comes from that good experience-- those good memories-- that I have from my family gatherings.
So that’s where it all started, I could later connect that to what I’m doing now, but it all started years ago. I was in special education, and I knew it wasn’t my place. I love working with kids but I knew I needed something new to do, and I wanted it to be about enjoying the simple things in life.
In this maatschappij, it cultivates a stressful environment. You’re always busy, most people working 9-5 jobs, and that’s pretty much it. But I find it really important that people take time to have conversation with their family, around the table with good food. For me, that’s where it all started, and that’s where this idea evolved from, that’s where the dots connected for me.
So, back to the question…
Well, now that I’m re-reading how I worded it, it’s not a very good question (laughs). But I think you got to the essence of it, explaining what it means for you to be able to actively reclaim your culture and your identity in the day-to-day. You’re connecting the dots.
Back to the “reclaiming”. Sometimes I still feel hesitant, because I know when you ask a white person how they see me, they will say they see a Black person. But I always found it hard to say “I’m also Surinamese”. I have a mixed ethnicity, and yes that’s visible. But when it comes to Surinamese people, they sometimes will let you know that you’re Surinamese. So it’s very hard to actually reclaim it. I do it in a way that I’m not so outspoken about it. You can’t just say “This is a stew I made, and it’s Surinamese.” You have to explain it deeply, so that people will understand that you can prepare it-- so that it’s justified. You can’t just say that “This is Surinamese food” or “This is Trinidadian food”, people will be like, “Huh? You’re half white. What are you talking about? You don’t know the culture, you’ve only been there twice.” So it’s still hard for me to actually claim my culture.
I completely empathise with that. That also echoes some of the conversations I’ve had with Lelani about her style of cooking, and modernisation. People even from the islands telling her that she’s not cooking a dish correctly, or that it’s not right.
Then you’re hiding behind other things, just to make yourself feel comfortable. For me it’s even harder, because I do a vegan, a complete plant-based kitchen here. People are like, “Where is the chicken?!”
But when you go back in history, like at the beginning of the 15th century, there was no meat! When the slaves had to cook, there was just dried fish. And today, we can make a substitute for it and it will still taste good. The most interesting part is that people don’t know that. People don’t know anything about the migration, and how food actually came about, the recipes we know nowadays. People have no clue! They’re like, “No! This is Surinamese food, this is that!” And actually, it’s a complete mixture-- it’s a melting pot of all different cultures and ingredients from all over the world. Every time I explain it, then I feel good about it. That’s my way!
There’s so much more nuance to it all.
I’m trying to formulate a follow-up question to your thoughts on claiming/reclaiming, but this idea is something that I rock with often. And mixed people in my life, including my siblings, we all struggle with this, “okay, so with our Black family, we’re the white cousins, and with our white family we’re the Black cousins”. sometimes it feels like Nobody really claims us, so we can’t really claim the narrative-- the monolithic narrative-- of either ethnicity, but we can be this space in between. I think that it’s so important to generate these dialogues, which is why I was so stoked to chat with you.
Thinking about Caribbean food and how meat-heavy it is, both you and Lelani firmly stand in your interpretation of Caribbean cooking as plant-based, it really feels like you’re carving out your own lanes. To be able to say “Here I am, mixed, from all of these different things, so is Caribbean food. Here you go!” That’s so beautiful.
It’s a big step, really. It’s so new to most people. Sometimes I also refer to the Ital Kitchen, because I have been very much into the Rastafarian culture, like way back when I was 14. So I know a lot about it, I have a lot of Rasta friends, and I used to have dreadlocks. It’s also nice to tell people how Rastafarians live, that not all Black people eat the same. Some are very conscious about the environment, and your health and your mental health. Rastas do that, it’s their lifestyle, and it’s a big inspiration for me. As you can see (gestures to the Neighbours Kitchen space around her) it’s the yellow here, and the red here…
Oh, I clocked that! Let me settle on that point, because I think you expressed it beautifully. That it’s not negative to not be able to claim that what you’re cooking is Suriname food. Because there’s so much nuance and evolution that happens, even in these food cultures that have been steeped in these painful histories-- they’re still evolving.
I think about this often. my training in my Bachelor’s was in Environmental Science, where we did plant identification. In the plant ID world, people get into arguments about “no this plant is this!” “this plant is this classification!” And it’s funny, because there’s similar themes in plant id-ing and in food culture, where people get so wrapped up in putting something in a box so they can understand it. When actually, plants have distribution tactics: they move! They mate with each other. And over time, over the course of a generation, they could theoretically completely change the way they look.
Food is different, too. Food is constantly changing with the Diaspora, with people making do with what they can, with new influences. It’s really interesting to me when people try to also classify a mixed ethnicity by saying something like, “You can’t possibly be Black, you have green eyes!” And my response lately has been, “Well, did you wanna talk about slavery today? ‘Cause we can!” (laughs)
But, the boxes don’t matter-- the conversation matters. It’s about actually getting to know what’s maybe inside the box, and that all can happen over a delicious meal. And it can be plant-based!
You put the words in my mouth!
What do you think is one of your earliest food memories?
Well... that I hated most of the foods that I ate. (laughs) The thing is, my mom cooked. She’s Dutch, and my dad never cooked. I knew from a very early age on that I didn’t like meat. But I did love my grandfather’s food, and when he made chicken, I’d eat it out of respect. I also really loved the way that it was very rustic and simple. I loved the taste of the rice and string beans, and the chicken. But one of my best, earliest food memories was when my grandfather would make these simple, rustic dishes.
I’m always curious to ask this question to chefs: their earliest food memory. And you’re not the first that has said “I was really picky”, or “I wasn’t into such and such food”, or “I didn’t really like what my mom was cooking.” So how did you then gravitate towards cooking more intentionally?
I already started cooking when I was 14! I did those supper clubs at home then. First I didn’t love cooking, but I had to get creative in the kitchen, because my mom got confused that I didn’t want to eat any animal protein, no meat, no nothing. She told me that she didn’t know what to do with me, and I told her that I’d grab a cookbook, and I’ll do it myself.
Nice! I did the same around the same time in my life.
Then I started cooking for my parents, for my friends and for the rest of my family. Whenever there were parties, I was the one cooking or baking. That’s where the love for food evolved. And it happened very suddenly, actually. I just really liked the idea of bringing people together. You take a whole day to prepare something, to pay attention to all of the details. And this was also still during a time where vegan cooking was considered weird, you were a tree-hugger if you were a vegan or vegetarian. And I was this mixed-race girl who was all of a sudden vegan. I really wanted to show my friends that the food could be so incredible.
I also lived abroad in Italy for two years, where I did a lot of cooking with vegetables that I was unfamiliar with, and from there the love grew. I never had a chef education, but I have like thousands of cookbooks-- it’s my addiction! And now I have to get them online, because I want the cookbooks from everywhere.
It’s just colourful, vibrant food. When vegetables are in the hooft, it has to be incredible because people are used to meat being the one thing that is delicious in the meal. I really wanted to convince people that it could be amazing food, and good for your health. Now everybody knows, it’s become pretty mainstream. That’s why I also really like to… dat mensen kennis laten maken met vegan Caribbean food.
Mm… To make people more familiar with vegan Caribbean food.
Yes! (laughs) You know, there’s this huge vegan food movement in London, and in New York where they have thousands of Caribbean restaurants. You don’t have that here in the Netherlands… We have one, in Amsterdam. And that’s it. So there’s still a market to tap into.
Do you have a favourite dish to cook that makes you feel the most ‘you’?
Any type of stew. I just love the layers. First you have your onions, then tomatoes, and then all of your herbs. You let it stew for like, 10 hours and you can put any vegetable in it and it will absorb the taste. It’s like this melting pot-- it actually is a melting pot. I think any stew with good prepared grains like rice. I think that’s my favourite. And you see it in every kitchen, right? When you think of Caribbean food, that’s the first thing you think about, the rice and peas. A lot of other Caribbean food snacks or bites are fried, and I’m not very into fried foods. I just want the food to be healthy and tantalising.
You can put all your love in this big pot of soup, and everyone can come have a plate. I love that idea. And I love my Dutch pot! It reminds me of when slave women would cook over an open fire and would have to get very creative with whatever was around. So they would make a stew with coconut milk or water— very basic. And what you can do with very simple ingredients… that speaks to me most.
Filling my heart! So great.
Well, just taste it someday! You should come to Almere.
Deal. Alright, I have one more question, and one more follow up question. What do you wish for the future of Neighbours Kitchen?
What I wish for myself is some good rest. (both laugh) You know, when something is really your passion, you work on it 24/7. And it’s a very small restaurant. My staff have an affinity with the kitchen and with the story of Neighbours Kitchen, but it’s just a job for them. I’d love to find a companion, someone I can work with to make Neighbours Kitchen grow, and go to another city. Really let people experience the lifestyle of the Caribbean through music and food and conversation. This could be a platform for a lot of things: we could do poetry evenings, music nights, all those sorts of things. And it’s just not happening now, because it’s very small here. That would really be something for the big city. I’m dreaming of a nice location-- a hidden gem-- a place with a lush garden. That would be the perfect place. I’m networking every day now to find a place to move Neighbours Kitchen to.
I will manifest that for you!
I just want it to grow into a success, and I’d like to be attached to it, but in a different role in this whole organisation. Now I work with one chef, a woman who is still learning, which is fine but very hard work. Being a restaurant owner, sometimes it's 16-hour days. And I’d like to focus more on the storytelling part— what you and Lelani do— but it’s not just a pop-up. It’s seven days a week. I’m finding a new way to be present in my organisation and what I do. Now it’s just me and my face all over the place! When people come in, they’re looking for me. Sometimes I want a day off to read books, to get into my culture. I want to find people who are from the Caribbean who love this too, so we could work together and make something great.