Customs was a snap, as was taking the train from Schiphol Airport to Amsterdam's Central Station. There are plenty of English-language signs, and everyone here seems to speak it, too.
What, you're reading Slice for pizza info? Well, what does it mean when the first foodstuff I smell upon getting off the train in Amsterdam is PIZZA HUT!? Before I even saw it, I knew it from its greasy odor, which I could smell halfway down the escalator from the train platform. Turn the corner, and, sure enough, whoomp, dare 'tis.
Interestingly enough, this Hut was offering a personal size Margherita pizza. You won't find that in the States.
Next to the Hut was a small automat-type place. You put your money in and get food from a little door. One row seemed to be offering something called a Kipburger, which I'm going to check out as soon as I post this and divvy up my euros into daily allowances. (Don't want to walk around an unknown city with all my cash on hand.) Look for the automat post on A Hamburger Today.