Cantina van Jongkind is a restaurant with a centuries-old history. In the courtyard dating from 1702, we serve lunch, freshly roasted coffee, and dinner in the evening. The stars of the menu are 48-hour fermented and traditionally leavened dough for Neapolitan pizzas and focaccias. A place to linger.
At Cantina van Jongkind, we believe in purity, passion, and a touch of quirkiness. We roast our own coffee right here in the courtyard—fresh, full of character, and always brewed with care.
We serve a lunch menu full of local flavors from the Groene Hart, and in the evening, our courtyard transforms into a cozy cantina: a cross between an Italian osteria and a Gouda pub—or rather, a wine bar.
The star of our menu? Artisanal Neapolitan pizzas, made with dough that has fermented and rested for 48 hours—light, crispy, and full of flavor—topped with the best local ingredients.
We believe that good food brings people together, sets the stage for wonderful evenings, and that a historic place like this tells a story you’ll want to keep hearing.
History
Hidden in the heart of Gouda lies a little treasure: the Hofje van Jongkind. Since 1702, this charming spot has been a refuge for people seeking a safe and pleasant place to live. It was originally founded thanks to the generosity of Adriaan Jongkind—a childless notary from Gouda—who bequeathed his estate to the city, with the wish to establish a courtyard for single, elderly women who were struggling financially.
The women who lived here received ten metric tons of peat each year to keep their homes warm and lived together in a cozy courtyard with nine small houses surrounding an inner garden, tucked away behind two buildings facing the street. It was a place of peace, care, and community—albeit with strict rules. For instance, you were only allowed to live there if you were a member of the Dutch Reformed Church. A blind woman wasn’t even allowed to take someone into her home to help her—well, those were different times.
Another interesting fact: Adriaan’s loyal housekeeper was not only offered a spot in the courtyard, but was also allowed to be buried next to him in St. John’s Church. Sweet, isn’t it?
Today, the spirit of the courtyard lives on in everything we do: warm, sincere, and a touch nostalgic. And while peat has been replaced by pizzas from a wood-fired oven, the courtyard remains a place where people come together and feel at home.
