From Friday 28 to Sunday 30 August 2026, Festival TREK returns to the beautiful Westbroekpark, transforming the park into a large open-air restaurant for a weekend of food, drinks, music and entertainment.
Visitors can explore a wide range of food trucks and street food, with everything from sushi and Surinamese dishes to vegetarian options and burgers. There are also several bars, including a cocktail bar, wine bar, Biergarten and Sangria & Bubbels Bar.
Festival TREK is about more than food. Throughout the weekend there will be live music, theatre and performances by emerging artists, alongside nostalgic fairground attractions. As evening falls, the programme continues with funk, soul and dance music.
The festival is free to enter and suitable for all ages.
Say “Indian food” to most people in the West, and a familiar picture comes to mind: takeout containers, a lot of oil, and a spice level that’s either “mild” or “regret.” It’s cheap, it’s convenient, and — the assumption goes — it’s basically all the same, just curry in different colours.
It couldn’t be further from the truth.
India isn’t one cuisine. It’s thousands of them. The country splits into broad geographic zones — north, south, east, west, and the northeast — and each one cooks with entirely different staple grains, techniques, and flavour profiles shaped by its own climate, history, and culture. Kashmiri rogan josh and Chennai-style chicken Madras have about as much in common as a Neapolitan pizza and a Swedish meatball — they’re both “Indian food” the way both those dishes are “European food,” which is to say, technically true and practically meaningless. Travel across the country and the menu changes completely: steamed momo (dumplings) in the northeast, pork with fermented soybean, tangy tamarind-and-coconut curries down south, delicate mustard-and-fish dishes in the east. It’s a tapestry, not a single dish repeated in different sauces.
This is exactly the reputation Vinoth Govind is working to change from his restaurant, Mad’Ras, on Piet Heinstraat. Walk into Mad’Ras and the first thing you notice is that it doesn’t look like most Indian restaurants you’ve been to. Blue ceramic plates are lined precisely along the tables, copper wine goblets catch the light behind the bar. It reads more like fine dining than the casual spots the cuisine usually gets slotted into — and that’s deliberate.
Vinoth never trained formally as a chef. He was, in his own words, always a foodie. While he grew up in Chennai, he visited his grandparents who had a small farm in Tamilnadu, where feeding anyone who walked through the door wasn’t optional, it was the rule. “If you weren’t going to eat here, don’t bother coming,” his grandparents used to say. That ethic of hospitality followed him into a corporate HR career, one that took him and his wife through Singapore, the Philippines, and other parts of Asia before they eventually settled in The Hague in 2022.
But HR is not the industry for someone who believes food is love. Vinoth spent years on the exhausting, emptying task of laying off hundreds of people at a time, and at some point the pull back toward the kitchen got too loud to ignore. He’d already opened restaurants before, in other countries, each time leaving behind a piece of his heart along with the business. He wasn’t planning on starting another one when his wife’s job brought them to the Netherlands. Then he got lost on a walk one day and stumbled onto Piet Heinstraat.
There, he struck up a friendship with Clarence, owner of the café then known as Bij Clarence, and found himself pulled back into the food world almost by accident. A space on the street had just come free — previously home to a Brazilian fusion restaurant run by João Proença — and after six months of work, it became Mad’Ras.
Vinoth is quick to credit the neighbourhood for what came next. Plenty of people doubted a new restaurant could survive in that spot; others had tried and closed before him. But Clarence and João, along with the wider street community, backed him from day one. He now counts them as family, and it’s part of why The Hague, a city he arrived in almost by chance, has stayed close to his heart.
Mad’Ras keeps its menu tight, but each dish carries its own regional identity rather than blending into one generic “Indian” flavour. The lamb rogan josh — Vinoth’s personal favourite — carries a rich, warming character, and the tandoori prawns arrive smoky and char-kissed, in the northern tradition. And the chicken Madras brings the fire and depth of the south.
Crucially, none of it has been dialled down for a Dutch palate. What lands on your table is what you’d be served in Chennai or Kashmir itself — spice included. That said, if heat isn’t your thing, there’s still plenty on the menu to give you an honest taste of the cuisine without watering it down into something unrecognisable. You will also find some iems unique to Mad’Ras, such as the truffle naan which was inspired by Vinoth’s 13 year old daughter – a combination I had doubts about as truffle is often overused in most restaurants or of poor quality – yet paired with dishes like the butter chicken, it was sensational.
Behind that consistency is a kitchen team of four, all trained in five-star hotels across India, and it shows in the precision of every plate. The drinks list carries the same care. The Mad’Ras Tadka coktail — gin or whisky, lime, sugar, ginger ale, and chaat masala — is light and refreshing, built to stand up against the spiced food rather than disappear next to it. Vinoth’s own love of wine shows up here too, with bottles sourced from further afield than you’d expect, including Georgia and Lebanon, rounding out a drinks menu as considered as the food.
Mad’Ras is the kind of place you find yourself wanting to return to — and to bring everyone you know along with you. It’s comfort food, elevated without tipping into pretension, and Vinoth’s hospitality is evident from the moment you walk through the door. If you’ve been carrying around the wrong idea of what Indian food is, this is exactly where to go to have it corrected. I myself, am of South African-Indian heritage and this place tastes like a mothers embrace.
Vinoth has since moved back to India; however, he continues to operate the restaurant with his dedicated team. Soon, a new menu will be unveiled — one I’m eagerly anticipating.
Piet Heinstraat 97, The Hague
Open for dinner only, Tuesday to Sunday
Images: Sherika Rooplal-Clappers
Do you have a story about your own café, restaurant or bar in the city? Reach out to sherika@thehagueonline.com to possibly be featured.
Sherika Rooplal-Clappers is a contributing writer for The Hague Online, covering culture, lifestyle, and local events. With a passion for storytelling and international perspectives, she highlights the people, places, and experiences that make The Hague a dynamic city.
There is an Arabic word — baytna — that means our home. It is the kind of word that carries weight: not just four walls and a roof, but the smell of something slow-cooking, the sound of family, the feeling of being truly welcome. For the owner of Baytna Café, Tatjana Sharif, that feeling has a very specific geography. Every summer of her childhood, no matter where life had taken her, she would return to Palestine, the country of her father and his family – and every time, she was reminded of something she has never forgotten. “No one hosts like Palestinians,” she says.
She is right. Palestinian hospitality even has its own name: karam. It is not merely a social custom but a deeply held moral value — the idea that a guest must be offered food and drink before any other conversation takes place, and that turning someone away unfed is simply unthinkable. Walk into Baytna and you will understand immediately that this is not a concept she has left behind. Baytna’s owner is half German, half Palestinian, and has spent much of her life moving between cultures and countries. She studied in the UK, worked in human rights, and carried Palestine with her everywhere she went — in memory, in identity, and eventually, in food. As a child, she was a tomboy and didn’t particularly love cooking. What she loved was eating. Her grandmother made sure of that, quietly and consistently ensuring she was always well fed, always at a full table. It was only later, as a student navigating life abroad, that she began to find her way into the kitchen herself. Cooking, she discovered, was grounding. A way to slow down. A way to feel at home even when home was far away. “It became something that helped me relax,” she says.
Tatjana believes strongly that you shouldn’t force life to move in a particular direction; that when something is right, it finds its shape on its own. The café is proof of that philosophy. What began as a desire to share Palestinian food and culture with her community in The Hague has become something far more alive than a menu. Regulars now message her directly to ask what’s available that day. There’s a warmth to it, a neighbourliness – the kind of relationship between a cook and her community that used to be common and is now rare. Karam, alive and well, in the heart of The Hague.
Step inside Baytna and you are not simply walking into a café – you are walking into someone’s story. On the walls hang tapestries from the Tatjana’s parents’ home: rich, tactile pieces that carry the particular warmth of a family house, the kind of objects that hold memory in their threads. They are not decorative in the conventional sense. They are personal, and that is precisely what makes them so affecting.
It is a small but significant detail. In a city full of beautifully designed spaces, Baytna feels different. The kind of place where the décor has a history and the person who hung it could tell you exactly what it means.
Palestinian cuisine is one of the oldest continuous food cultures in the world, rooted in the Levant and shaped by thousands of years of trade, agriculture, and migration. It is a cuisine of the land — built around olive oil, sumac, slow-cooked meats, and grains — and deeply communal by nature.
At Baytna, the menu draws from this tradition while also reaching across the broader Arab world —the flavours that travel across borders because good food always does. Everything is made with care and intention, and the weekend brunches in particular have become something of a quiet institution. Expect dishes that are rich with spice, slow with flavour, and generous in portion — food that, as she puts it, is for the soul.
Her cooking style is intuitive, shaped by memory and instinct rather than strict recipe, which is reflected in her popular cooking classes. The goal isn’t to follow instructions to the letter but to understand ingredients, trust your senses, and cook the way her grandmother did: from feeling.
The seasonal menu shifts with what’s available and what feels right, which means there is always a reason to return — and her regulars certainly do. The space designed for people to linger. Book clubs meet here. Workshops are hosted here. Companies looking for a warm, characterful venue for team events or off-sites can hire the space, with Baytna providing the food and drinks. The events calendar reflects the owner’s background in community and human rights: thoughtful, inclusive, and always centred on bringing people together. “I love hosting,” she says, and you believe her entirely.
It would be impossible to write about Baytna without acknowledging the weight of this moment in history. Tatjana has lost family in the war. She carries that with her every day. And yet, she remains — extraordinarily — positive and hopeful. What she wants people to understand is this: Palestinian identity is so much richer and deeper than what the news cycle reflects. A people reduced in the global conversation to conflict alone lose something essential — their food, their laughter, their legendary hospitality, their culture of gathering and feeding and welcoming strangers as family. A quiet, delicious act of reclamation. A reminder that Palestinians are warm and loving people with a food culture worth celebrating — one plate, one gathering, one shared meal at a time. And on the walls, the tapestries from her parents’ home bear quiet witness to all of it. Every dish served here is a small piece of that story.
Baytna Café is located on Piet Heinstraat 112 and is open for weekend brunches as well as private events, workshops, and community gatherings. Follow them on Instagram for updates on seasonal menus, upcoming events, and daily specials.
Images: Sherika Rooplal-Clappers and provided by Baytna cafe
Do you have a story about your own café, restaurant or bar in the city? Reach out to sherika@thehagueonline.com to possibly be featured.
Sherika Rooplal-Clappers is a contributing writer for The Hague Online, covering culture, lifestyle, and local events. With a passion for storytelling and international perspectives, she highlights the people, places, and experiences that make The Hague a dynamic city.
From the outside, the name gives nothing away. Café Marlo has no direct meaning, but it carries a sound close to the Japanese word maroyaka – meaning soft, warm, or mild. Walking in, I can confirm: the name fits perfectly.
This is The Hague’s newest Japanese café, and it is not what you might expect. There is no sushi here, no elaborate omakase, no long tasting menus. What Café Marlo offers instead is something far more personal: the food that Japanese people actually eat every day. The kind of food a mother makes. Nourishing, light, honest food that is good for your body.
Start with the matcha. Café Marlo uses two types – ceremonial grade for hot drinks and Shizuoka which pairs better with milk for everyday drinks. If you know your matcha, you will taste the difference immediately. If you don’t, this is a very good place to start learning.
The must-order, is the fruit sando. A Japanese fruit sandwich sounds like something that should not work – and then you take one bite and understand immediately why it has become a cult item across Japan and, slowly, across the world. Soft milk bread, lightly sweetened cream, seasonal fruit. It is simple in the best possible way.
For something more substantial, the onigiri is your answer. Café Marlo focuses on fresh, handmade onigiri served warm – which is how it should be eaten. If you have been reaching for sushi as your go-to Japanese option, consider this your gentle nudge to try something closer to what actually fills Japanese tables at lunchtime. Rice, filling, nori. Healthy, satisfying, completely unpretentious.
Café Marlo sits on Hooikade, and the location alone is reason enough to visit. The canal-side setting, the cobalt blue door, the sense that you have stepped somewhere slightly removed from the rest of the city – it makes the whole experience feel like a small escape. The kind of place you find yourself wanting to return to on a slow Tuesday when you need something that feels good.
The owners are genuinely lovely. You feel that from the moment you walk in – there is a care here that goes beyond the food, a sense that this café was opened because these two people truly love what they do and want to share it.
Café Marlo is located at Hooikade 1, The Hague. Open Tuesday to Saturday, 10am to 4pm. Find them on Instagram
Go for the matcha. Stay for the fruit sando. Leave feeling, as the name promises, warm.
Images: Sherika Rooplal-Clappers
Do you have a story about your own café, restaurant or bar in the city? Reach out to sherika@thehagueonline.com to possibly be featured.
Sherika Rooplal-Clappers is a contributing writer for The Hague Online, covering culture, lifestyle, and local events. With a passion for storytelling and international perspectives, she highlights the people, places, and experiences that make The Hague a dynamic city.
On Friday, July 10, Pizza FM officially opens its doors on the Grote Markt in The Hague. Pizza FM is the modern successor to ‘De Bakplaats’ and the ice cream concept ‘Lik It Gelato’. With this transformation, the pizza spot acquires a contemporary look that aligns with the events and atmosphere of the Grote Markt and the Popdistrict.
The foundation remains unchanged: authentic Neapolitan pizzas from a specially imported Neapolitan oven, which can be ordered at almost all eateries on the square. However, the menu has been expanded with even better recipes, Pinsa Romanas, and a wide range of homemade (vegan) ice cream. The visual identity and artwork have been completely revamped by designer Jawgem.
Free slices
The launch will be celebrated on Friday, July 10 from 6:00 PM with the giveaway of free pizza slices to the public. Additionally, DJ ItaLau Lau will be spinning and goodies will be handed out.
Images: new menu, the logo, and the slogan (artwork by Jawgem).
No summer is complete without good ice cream, or better yet, gelato. But the latest spot to open in our city is no ordinary place. Don’t expect the usual flavours like plain vanilla or strawberry. Instead, tap into how you’re feeling and let that guide you. Perhaps you’re new to the city and need a fresh start, or you’re going through a challenging period in life right now and need a reminder that there is still light to be discovered even in the darkest moments. Well, Soul Be It has a flavour and a space for you.
This spot – and the woman behind it – has a special story. Born and raised in Hong Kong, Karen SL Huang moved to The Hague about nine years ago, after spending her whole career in the high-pressure world of advertising and later, marketing. She always had a dream to open her own gelateria since she was a child, and this feeling persisted until, around two years ago, she made the decision to really go after it. Now, Soul Be It is open for everyone to enjoy – a meeting place for friends to catch up, with a record player playing softly in the background and books on mindfulness scattered about.
I was really touched by the passion Karen has. She’s not trying to churn customers in and out of her store quickly; instead, she wants to bring three things to the city that work together: emotions + flavours + connection. The sleek interior feels like an extension of Karen’s own home – and an extension of yours, too. When she saw her customers sitting down, enjoying the gelato and reading some books, this was when she knew her dream had been realised.
It was hard to pick a favourite from the flavours, so instead, I’ll share the story behind a few of them. Fresh Start – to signify that every day is a chance to start over: a sorbet made up of pear and mint. The burst of freshness was undeniable, with an almost savoury feel, and the flavour could even work as part of a palate cleanser between courses.
A Light Unto the Darkness – a reminder that even during the hardest moments in life, there is often a silver lining if we remember to look for it. The taste of dark chocolate comes together in a gorgeous richness without being too bitter, with a hint of orange zest that cuts through.
Rosemary, Greek yoghurt, pink peppercorn — Gezellig is built on a taste you never knew you needed. The flavour takes its name from the Dutch expression for cosiness and warmth, and kumquat compote pieces round it out with a surprising sweetness.
Beyond the storytelling, there’s substance too – most of the ingredients are organic, and Karen is looking to increase that even more. Everything is freshly made every day. You’ll want to come back often, not only to try the new flavour of the week, but also to chat with Karen and have a moment to yourself, with a friend or family member.
Soul Be It is located on Heulstraat 25, walking distance from the Binnenhof
Images: Sherika Rooplal-Clappers
Do you have a story about your own café, restaurant or bar in the city? Reach out to sherika@thehagueonline.com to possibly be featured.
Sherika Rooplal-Clappers is a contributing writer for The Hague Online, covering culture, lifestyle, and local events. With a passion for storytelling and international perspectives, she highlights the people, places, and experiences that make The Hague a dynamic city.
