Christoffelvlaai

As soon as the cherries hit the store, I start craving Christoffel pie. It's a traditional Limburg pie, or vlaai, that is standard on the list of top vlaaien and a favorite of many. The standard vlaai is baked with a yeast dough, filled with canned cherries, topped with chocolate whipped cream, regular sweet whipped cream, a sprinkling of dark chocolate curls and a dusting of cocoa. Thanks to observant reader Emily, we know that there is also a Christoffeltaart which consists of a meringue bottom instead of dough, and may contain custard or vanilla cream or some other combination. Regardless of the variety that you prefer, chocolate, whipped cream and cherries are always involved.

But who is this Christoffel and why was a pie named after him? I'd love to know the answer but search after search comes up blank. Someone suggested that it's a vlaai typical from Roermond, a city in the southeastern part of the Netherlands, whose patron saint is St. Christopher. A local bakery states the same information, but that's all I can find, so I'm not sure if we're milking the same information or whether that is true. Further research into St. Christopher himself reveals very little detail as well and the only connection between him and the cherries is that he is the patron saint of fruit merchants. Okay. Not much to go on as far as a valid explanation for why this pie is named after this pious pilgrim, but I'll take it!

Christoffelvlaai
1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup warm milk
2 teaspoons active dry yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons butter, room temperature
1 egg yolk
Pinch of salt
2 cups canned cherries
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon panko or breadcrumbs
1 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons powdered sugar
1 tablespoon cocoa powder
1 small dark chocolate bar

Measure out the flour. Proof the yeast in the warm milk, then add it to the flour, together with the sugar. Knead four or five times until it comes together, and knead in the butter and the egg yolk until the dough is satiny but firm. Cover and set aside for the first rise.

Drain the liquid off the canned cherries, stir in the cornstarch and bring up to heat, all the while stirring. The cornstarch will thicken the liquid. Fold in the sugar and the cherries, and set aside.

Roll the dough out to a circle slightly larger than your pie plate, lay it over your dough roller and line the vlaai form if you have one, or a regular pie plate (approx. 9 to 10 inches across). Use a fork to dock the dough, then cover and let rise until puffy, about thirty minutes.

Heat your oven to 375F. Sprinkle a tablespoon of panko or breadcrumbs on the pie dough, and pour in the cherries. Bake for 25 minutes. If the top of the dough browns too fast, tent it with some aluminum foil.

Whip the heavy cream with the powdered sugar. Remove one third when done, then fold in the cocoa powder (easier if you sift it above the bowl) in the remaining two thirds of whipped cream.

When the pie has cooled, spread the chocolate whipped cream on top. Shave curls off the dark chocolate bar and sprinkle over the whipped cream. Pipe white whipping cream rosettes along the edge, and refrigerate the vlaai until it's time to eat.

 

Lange Vingers

Lange vingers, literally translated as "long fingers", are part of that collection of old-fashioned cookies that are slowly but surely disappearing from the cookie tin. The cookies we know from our oma's koekjestrommel, those oldtime reliable treats like kermiskoekjes, lange vingers and maria biscuits, are making way for other novel delights. These new-comers are just as good, but sometimes only a simple, sugary, crispy cookie will do.

The love affair with this sweet treat starts as a teething child, when you get a lange vinger to chew on. The hard, sugary crust is pleasing, and the cookie softens as you munch on it. Once your teeth are set, you relish in the crunchy, dry texture, and challenge your siblings to a whistling competition whilst your mouth is full of crunched up lange vingers. Or see how many you can fit in your mouth, as these two are trying. Not a pretty sight, but always good for many giggles!

Lange vingers are also perfect to serve with any kind of vla or custard to provide texture, or like last week's dessert, Haagse Bluf. It adds flavor and support for kwarktaarten or other pourable fillings. And as an adult, having the time for an afternoon cup of tea, a couple of lange vingers and a good book to read is sheer luxury.

Best of all, these lange vingers are easy to make, quick to whip up and you probably have most ingredients in house already. The batter is piped onto a parchment paper lined baking sheet and will be baked until lightly browned.

Lange Vingers
3 eggs, divided
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 scant tablespoons sugar
Pinch of salt
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup flour, sifted
Additional sugar for topping

Beat the egg yolks, the vanilla and the tablespoons of sugar until creamy and fluffy. In another bowl, beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt and the 1/4 cup of sugar until stiff white peaks form.

Fold the sifted flour into the egg whites, then fold the egg yolk cream carefully into it, making sure not to loose too much air.

Preheat the oven at 325F. Fill a piping bag with a smooth tip (about 1/2 inch) and pipe 4.5 inch stripes on a parchment paper lined baking sheet. Sprinkle plenty of sugar on top of each cookie. Bake for 10-15 minutes, and make sure they don't brown too much. The lange vingers will harden. If they stay soft, place them back in the oven after you have baked all the batter and turned the oven off, and let them dry.

Haagse Bluf

Full of hot air and a whole lot about nothing......that's how the general attitude coming out of The Hague is often perceived by the rest of the country. But 's Gravenhage, or Den Haag for short, does happen to be the seat of the Dutch government, the parliament, the Council of State AND the Supreme Court. It's where the King lives with his family, where most embassies are located and a place the International Court of Justice and the International Criminal Court call home. On top of that, they lay claim to one of the best hard candies, the famous Haagse Hopje, which flavor is used for such delights as hopjesvla. Which was, on top of everything, invented by a baron, and not just some Joe Schmo down the block. Not that there's anything wrong with that but....you know...if you're claiming to be all that, baron definitely beats no-baron.

On the other hand there are plenty of other things that come out of The Hague that make you cringe out of a secondary sense of shame. As with all things, the pendulum has to swing the other way and oh boy, does it swing!

But one dessert can lay claim on the premise that it is indeed full of air, and proudly so, and that is Haagse Bluf. Whipped egg whites with sugar and berry juice turns into a very light, airy, frothy, sweet and delightful sweet treat, regardless of its slightly derogatory name. Haagse Bluf, The Hague Bluff, is in reference to the fact that the dish is mostly air, whipped into looking a lot more than it truly is.....

The red berry juice is traditionally a mixture of red currants and other red berries, but you are welcome to give it your own personal twist. I substituted the berry juice for a freshly made rhubarb-strawberry jam, as those are the two foods that are in season.

Haagse Bluf
2 egg whites*
6 heaping tablespoons of powdered sugar
3 tablespoons berry juice

Whip the egg whites, sugar and berry juice into stiff peaks. Serve with lady fingers, additional fresh fruit or a compote.

* Consuming raw egg whites can be hazardous to your health. Using pasteurized egg whites is recommended. 

Moederdag

Hushed voices downstairs in the kitchen....the smell of toast. A mug clatters in the sink, laughter. 

Small hands grip the handles on the serving tray, trying to balance the load, while climbing the stairs. Flowers, a card, toast, coffee, a boiled egg and juice. 

Breakfast in bed, once a year. 

Happy Moederdag to all women!

Zomerkoninkjes

If you're at all keeping up with the news back home, you know that several years ago we had an important change of the guard. Queen Beatrix abdicated, after 33 years of being at the helm, the throne to her son William Alexander. For the first time in 123 years, we'll go back to having a king.

My mind being the way it is, I was more consumed with finding out what they were going to eat during those exciting days than with the whole crowning affair per se, with all due respect. Would they serve Koninginnesoep for one last time? A slice of koningsbrood to go with a Dutch cup of coffee? Oh, if only I knew!!! Worst of all, with all this talk about koning this and koning that, I could not stop thinking about zomerkoninkjes.

Zomerkoninkjes, summer kings, is a Dutch nickname for strawberries. They grow abundantly in The Netherlands, both in fields and in greenhouses. Furthermore, it's a great way to make some spending money in the summer: when I was a young girl, many of my classmates would pick field strawberries for the local farmer and get paid per crate. I tried to do the same one year, but ended up eating more strawberries than landed in my crate. At the end of the day, I had only made a few guilders. And I had a big stomach ache!

But strawberries are a traditional early summer treat. As soon as the red berries are available in the store or at the market, the Dutch will serve these first berries on slices of white, buttered bread with a sprinkling of regular sugar, much to the delight of the children. Because, as strawberries are fairly juicy, the moment you pour sugar on it, it dissolves. The trick was to convince your parents that you had not yet sprinkled any sugar on the fruit and that it was imperative that you'd sprinkle some more, and then see how many times you could get away with it.

What a grand way to celebrate the change of seasons: whether it be on Soestdijk or at your kitchen table. Long live the summer king!

Baka Bana

This recipe was first published in Dutch, the mag We finish our colonial cuisine journey with another traditional dish, of course, and one that takes hardly any time to make. Fried plantains are traditional in the Surinamese as well as the Indonesian kitchen, where they are called pisang goreng. Bananas and plantains are a staple for the population and because of its abundance, it flavors many desserts, baked goods or shines by itself as a delicious after-dinner treat.

This yellow fruit however can also be served as part of the dinner, especially if you present them with a peanut sauce dressing. It's different but equally tasty!

If you prefer to skip the peanut sauce and just go for the fried banana, you may serve them either by themselves and a dusting of powdered sugar, or with a scoop of ice cream.

Baka bana

2 ripe bananas or plantains

½ cup flour

Pinch of salt

½ cup carbonated clear soda beverage such as Sprite or 7-up

Oil

Slice the bananas in half, lengthwise. Mix the flour and the soda into a batter, add the salt. Heat the oil, dip the bananas into the batter and fry them golden on both sides. Make enough because, as you fry them, there always tends to be someone in the kitchen who wants to "sample". Before you know it, they're gone!

Optional: stir ¼ cup of peanut butter with two tablespoons of warm water. Mix in two teaspoons of sweet soy sauce. Pour it over the baked bananas. 

Bara

 This recipe was first published in Dutch, the mag.

We've been on a little discovery trip through the Surinamese kitchen. One of the many things we've embraced from foreign cultures is the food. We love to eat, and we love to discover new flavors, new foods and new challenges. The Indonesian cuisine, as a colonial treasure, has been fully integrated into the Dutch culinary panorama, and for the last decade, if not more, so have the flavors of Suriname.

Baras, a deep fried savory snack with Hindustan roots, have found its way into our eating habits and into the many Surinamese food shops around the country, one wonderful bite at a time. Made from soaked urad dal (also known as split black lentils) and spices, and served with a sweet and tangy chutney, the addictive nature of this delectable donut is hard to resist.

Bara

1 cup urad dal

2 teaspoons cumin seed

2 tablespoons chopped green leaves*

1 teaspoon garlic salt

1 teaspoon onion powder

½ teaspoon active dry yeast

1 cup self rising flour

Oil

Wash and soak the urad dal in two or three cups of water, and let it soak overnight. Pour off the water, rinse the lentils one more time and purée them into a smooth paste. Toast the cumin seeds in a dry skillet until the first one pops, and then add them to the paste. Add in the chopped leaves, garlic, onion powder and the yeast and knead it all together with the flour. If the dough is too stiff, add in a tablespoon of warm water at a time.

Put the dough in a bowl, cover and let it rise for three to four hours. Heat oil to 375F. Lightly wet both hands and roll a bit of dough into a ball. Pat it flat and poke a hole in the middle. Let the bara donut slide into the hot oil and quickly fry until puffy and golden brown. Fry the rest of the baras.

This snack is best served hot. Serve with chutney.

* This is traditionally made with tayer leaves but can be substituted by fresh spinach.

Pom

This article and recipes were first published in Dutch, the mag.

Last week, we started a new culinary mini-series. Previously, we covered Indonesia, with an overview and several recipes for a rijsttafel. This time, we're cooking dishes from a newer influx of tropical tastes, the country of Suriname. The Dutch kitchen landscape has always been one of embracing other cultures, and our colonial past introduced many exciting and flavorful new dishes to the spectrum. Some of those dishes would be adapted based on whatever ingredients were available.


Such is the case with pom for example, a celebratory dish that is ubiquitous during Surinamese holidays, birthdays, wedding and funerals, and which is not seldom proclaimed as being Suriname’s favorite dish . Even better, it is often said that there is no celebration without pom present!

Pom traditionally appears to be a Jewish recipe, and was made with chicken, orange juice and potatoes. But potatoes were scarce in Suriname. A readily available substitute was pomtajer, a root vegetable, which has been used since.  As the culture is so diverse, one can find many recipe variations on this dish.

Pom, either served over rice or on a breadroll, is nowadays such a popular food item in The Netherlands that not only Surinam food cafés and restaurants serve it, but it has found its way onto the menus of Dutch cafetarias and even delivery pizza restaurants, just to meet popular demand.

The open markets in the Bijlmermeer are known to cater to its predominantly Surinam customer base, and many that live outside the area will travel to the Bijlmer in order to purchase those specialty foods. Market days therefore are a hustle and bustle of bright colored clothing, lots of laughing, exciting new discoveries, meeting new and old friends, and wonderful, enticing smells from the restaurants and food trucks in the direct vicinity. And news travels fast: if a particular market stall displays a difficult to find food item, or if so-and-so has a new batch of freshly baked pom. You have to be quick or it will be gone!

Pom

6 medium sized potatoes*

Juice of 1 lime

½ cup orange juice

1 tablespoon brown sugar

½ teaspoon turmeric

¼ cup parsley

2 lbs chicken meat (either breast or thigh)

4 ounces corned beef brisket

1 tablespoon butter

1 cup chopped onion

2 tomatoes, chopped

1 tablespoon tomato paste

1 tablespoon nutmeg

Salt

Pepper

2 chicken bouillon cubes

Butter

Shred the potatoes and mix them with half of the lime juice and all of the orange juice. Season with brown sugar, the turmeric, a pinch of salt and pepper, a pinch of nutmeg and the parsley.

Cut the meat into bite size pieces. Melt the butter, sauté the onion and the tomatoes and add the chicken. Season with the rest of the nutmeg, salt and pepper, and the rest of the lime juice. Add four cups of water, the two chicken bouillon cubes, the corned beef and the tomato paste. Simmer for fifteen minutes, then set aside.

Butter an oven dish. Divide the shredded potatoes in two: layer the bottom of the dish with one half. Scoop the meat out of the pan and spread it over the potatoes, then cover with the rest of the potatoes.

Sprinkle some of the juices from the pan over the potatoes, and dot them with butter. Heat the oven to 350F and bake for an hour or until deep golden.

*Choose a mealy potato for this purpose. I personally prefer to shred the potatoes so there's still a bit of texture to it. Another version suggests boiling and mashing the potatoes first, and then adding in the juices and seasonings. Either way works great!

Surinaamse Pindasoep

This article and recipes were first published in Dutch, the mag.

The city of Amsterdam is known for many things, and not in the least for its multicultural society. It is said that every nationality is represented in this city. And with each nationality comes food, often glorious, exciting and flavorful food!  

For several years I lived in an outside neighborhood of Amsterdam, on the one-a-last subway stop. It was close to the Bijlmermeer, an area known for the large concentration of Surinamese people.  Many moved to The Netherlands after Suriname achieved independence from the Dutch in 1975, and brought with them a colorful culture, and a vast array of culinary treasures.  Amsterdam alone counts over 200 Surinamese eateries, where one can enjoy these exciting dishes. Almost one in six inhabitants of the city has Suriname heritage and there are almost as many Surinamese people living in The Netherlands as there are in Suriname.

The Dutch first arrived in Suriname, a country on the east coast of South America, in the early 1600s. They traded New Amsterdam with the British for this fairly new and booming location with its rich soil and started plantations. These plantations relied on African slaves to grow the sugar cane, coffee, cotton and coffee. After slavery was abolished in 1863, and most slaves left the plantations, the Dutch brought in workers from other colonies and areas like Indonesia, India and in smaller amounts from China and the Middle East. The variety of cultural backgrounds that each brought with them, and a preference for certain foods, influenced the local cuisine heavily. The Surinamese cuisine nowadays is a beautiful and exciting melting pot.

The recipes in the following weeks are a representation of the different cultures that encompass the Surinamese population: we're starting off the mini-series with pinda bravoe, a Surinamese peanut soup. It is reminiscent of West African dishes where the groundnut was an available and affordable source of energy, and it was quite possibly a dish introduced by the African slaves who worked on the plantations. In the next couple of weeks we'll be covering pom, of Jewish origin, a dish that is often attributed to the Creole population of Suriname. Roti, the curried chicken and potato dish that is served with braised yard long beans and a side of flatbread, has seemingly Indian influences. The baka bana reminds us of the pisang goreng from Java and the bara, a savory and spiced fried snack made with urad dal has a distinct Hindu background.  

All in all, the Surinamese kitchen is a rich one, with a large variety of flavors and backgrounds, and worth giving a try! Njang Swietie! (Eet smakelijk!)

Pinda Bravoe with tom tom
½ teaspoon butter

½ cup onion, chopped

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 small tomato, chopped

6 ounces (175 grams) chicken meat

2 ounces (50 grams) corned beef brisket*

4 cups (1 liter) chicken stock

1 bay leaf

4 whole allspice berries

1 sprig of celery leaves

10 ounces (275 grams) peanut butter, natural

1 Madame Jeanette pepper**

1 plantain

Salt

Melt the butter in a small stockpot and sauté the chopped onion until they are translucent. Add the minced garlic, then add the tomatoes. Carefully stir for a couple of minutes or until the tomatoes have softened. Add the chicken meat and the corned beef and give it a couple of stirs, then add the chicken stock, the bay leaf, the 4 allspice berries and the sprig of celery.

Simmer for thirty minutes. Remove the bay leaf and the allspice berries, and discard them. Take the meat out and set it aside. Purée the soup.  In a separate bowl, mix the peanut butter and one cup of soup until it’s smooth. Add it in to the rest of the soup. Stir until the soup is homogenous, and return the meat to the soup. Add the Madame Jeanette pepper to the soup, whole, and let it simmer for another ten  minutes. Make sure the pepper does not break or rip, as the soup will be too hot to eat: we’re trying to get the pepper to add flavor but no heat.

Discard the pepper after ten minutes: taste the soup and adjust with salt and pepper. If you’d like some spice, try to add a little bit of chili sauce.

To make the tom tom, peel the plantain and boil it until soft. Remove it from the water and mash it with a fork. Add a pinch of salt, and roll into small balls, the size of a marble. Add one or two into each soup portion.

* This is your regular St Patrick's day corned beef brisket, not the canned variety. 
** Can be easily replaced by Scotch Bonnet peppers or habaneros. Watch the heat!!

Eén ei is geen ei.....Vrolijk Pasen!

"Een ei is geen ei, twee ei is een half ei, drie ei is een Paasei!" goes a famous Dutch children's Easter song. Deviled eggs are a perfect choice to celebrate Easter, together with Paasbrood, Paashaasjes, Paasstol, and even a beautiful Paastaart, an Easter cake, complete with advocaat. 

Not to be outdone by anyone, we celebrate Easter for two days. Today is Easter Sunday, or First Easter Day, Eerste Paasdag. Families get together for breakfast or brunch, complete with wonderful bread selections, omelets, smoked salmon and watercress, or get together later today for an Easter dinner, although that is usually not as common. Lamb, although appreciated, still does not have a prominent place on the table as it does in other countries during this time of year.

And as the world gets back to work and resumes normal life tomorrow, The Netherlands celebrates Second Easter Day, or Tweede Paasdag. Where most stores and businesses remain closed, Second Easter Day is seemingly THE day to go furniture shopping. The large furniture stores, meubelboulevards, are open today to the shopping public. Some of these are all set up for today: playgrounds for the kids and a tearoom or lunchroom for mom, to make it gezellig. 

In the meantime, prepare some Dutch-style deviled eggs with all those colored eggs you may have made for Easter. We've ventured away from the standard yolk-mustard-mayo filling and created some new, but familiar, flavors. 



                    Vrolijk Pasen!!




Gevulde eieren
4 eggs
Water

Place eggs in a saucepan and cover with cold water, so that the eggs are covered by an inch. Bring to a boil, boil for two minutes. Cover and turn off the stove. Leave for 15 minutes. Uncover, pour off the hot water and "scare" the eggs by running cold water over them. Let the eggs sit in cold water for ten minutes, then peel. 

Fresh eggs tend to be the hardest to peel, so you may want to use the older eggs in your fridge for boiling. Adding a teaspoon of baking soda, steaming the eggs, baking them in the oven, or cooking them in an InstaPot is also said to make eggs easier to peel. 

When the eggs are peeled and cooled, cut them in half lengthwise and remove the yolk. Mix up your favorite spices with the yolks, add some cream or mayonnaise to make it dollop-able, and fill the eggs. Chill and present on a pretty plate. Following are some favorites that may please the Dutch palate:

Saté Deviled Eggs: mix 2 teaspoons of regular or salty creamy peanut butter for every four yolks and 1 1/2 teaspoons of sweet chili sauce. Mix well, fill the eggs, and top with a drizzle of chili sauce.

Sweet Curry Eggs:  add ½ a teaspoon of your favorite curry powder to four yolks, a tablespoon of coconut milk, and minced yellow raisins.

Seafood Eggs: chop eight small salad shrimp with four yolks, mince a little piece of celery fine and mix it in with a teaspoon of mayonnaise and freshly ground black pepper. Top with a dollop of caviar or a whole shrimp. 

Chocoladevla

 Some foods don't need a lot of explanation, like today's vla. It's chocolate, and it's vla. It's good. You can eat it as dessert, all by itself. You can stir it with vanillevla and mix it up. You can use it as a dip for fresh bananas. It's comforting, enticing, yummie and chocolatey. And it's vla.

And if there's something we love for dessert, it's vla, a pourable sweet pudding, available in over fifty flavors. The rectangular vla cartons look much like the American quart sized milk cartons, and will appear on the table after dinner. If you're fairly  new to the table, people will probably give you a clean bowl. If you're family, whether blood-related or not, you will probably pour your vla of choice on the plate in front of you, the one that you just finished eating your main course of. A good reason to finish your plate!

You will find vla in the dairy section of the grocery store. There are seasonal vlas, like an apple-cinnamon for the Fall, or a fruity lemony one for the Spring. There are fufu-fancy ones and there are the run-of-the-mill vlas, like today's chocolade vla. Together with vanilla, hopjesvla and raspberry, it's probably one of the most popular flavors and bound to show up on a Dutch dinner table sooner than later.

The best thing is that it's so easy to make. Some milk, a bit of corn starch and good old-fashioned Van Houten cocoa powder and sugar is all this takes. The making of the vla takes less than ten minutes, but it's the waiting until it's cooled off that takes the longest....unless you eat your vla hot!

Chocoladevla
1/3 cup cocoa powder
1/4 cup corn starch
1/3 cup sugar
Pinch of salt
2  1/4 cup milk

Stir the cocoa powder, corn starch, sugar and salt together in a bowl. Add a cup of milk and whisk until all lumps are gone. Bring the rest of the milk to a low simmer, add the chocolate milk to the pan and stir together. Keep stirring while the milk comes to a boil, and boil it for a good one or two minutes, or until the mixture starts to thicken. Pull off the stove, pour in a bowl or container. Cover the surface of the vla with plastic food film to avoid a "skin" forming.

Cool in the fridge. Stir before serving.

In The Dutch Kitchen.....

For the longest time, the Dutch kitchen was considered practically non-existent in the food world. And, quite honestly, we will not be dominating the culinary covers of  those big food magazines any time yet. No hot features in Saveur, although I still think it was a huge faux pas to omit us here. Food and Wine doesn't talk much about Dutch cooking, and neither Bourdain nor Ottolenghi have spent much time trying to master the intricacies of the frikandel or philosophize on the practice of prakken.

But that's okay. We've gone from sheer opulence during the Golden Age where our cuisine was predominantly influenced by the French, to a practically austere kitchen as part of the Protestant and Calvinist ideology. Food was not to be a source of pleasure, of identity or joy, but was meant for simple sustenance. I personally believe it allowed us to focus on other areas where we could contribute in a different way: science, literature, travel, music, technology......

Still, throughout the ages, in country kitchens, in humble homes, we have ultimately managed to create a kitchen that defines us, and that has become part of our identity. We've gathered a wealth of regional products and produce that is unique to our country and slowly but surely, we're learning to enjoy it and to add it back into our culinary repertoire. Most importantly, we're allowing ourselves to be proud of it, and that is saying something.

Last year, I contacted the National Bureau for Tourism and Conferences in The Netherlands. Their website, www.holland.com is the main site for world travelers to learn about our country, our national treasures, habits and history. People all over the world use it to plan trips, pick out sites to see or simply travel to our beautiful country from the comfort of their own home. I praised them on every aspect of the site, but then asked them why they were not spending any space on Dutch recipes, on Dutch cooking and on our local cuisines. I offered to write for them, they accepted, and the first series on recipes and short introductions is now live:
http://www.holland.com/us/Tourism/Interests/Food-Drinks/Dutch-recipes.htm

Excited? You bet! Proud? Quite! I have been on this quest to bring more focus and attention to the Dutch cuisine, and I feel that this is another great step in the right direction. Time to celebrate! 

Tosti Ham Kaas

It's been one of those weekends where you run errands, you run from one side of town to the other, and finally you run ragged. And when you finally plof down on the couch, you realize that it's time for dinner. But you don't feel like peeling potatoes,  you haven't really given the vegetables any thought and you forgot to pull the meat out of the freezer. So what is one to do?! Calling out for pizza is not always an option in the Netherlands and thinking about pulling out of that parking space in front of the house that you circled the block ten times for is out of the question. So what will it be? Yep, tosties!!!

Grilled ham and cheese sandwiches are probably as popular in Holland as in any other country that has bread and cheese as a staple. Tostis (a tosti by itself is usually ham and cheese) or tosties are a standard go-to snack when a sandwich just will not do. They are on the menu in cafés, offered in any broodjeszaak or sandwich shop around town and tend to be a favorite in many households. There are about as many variations as there are people in the country: first comes the selection of the bread (wheat, white or anything inbetween , then the type of cheese (young, mature, old, Leidse, or foreign cheeses like Brie or Camembert), a selection of meat (ham, salami, roast beef....you name it). Everybody in the family has a favorite combination. 

Usually the buck stops here but others go even further. A Tosti Hawaii is, of course, a ham and cheese grilled sandwich with a slice of pineapple, which is my favorite. There is a Tosti Kaas Ui (cheese and caramelized onion), Tosti Kaas Champignon (with, you guessed it, cheese and sautéed mushrooms) and so on and so forth. Slices of tomato or cucumber are also often added to the tosties. (If you are reading this right after Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, remember to set some food aside for a fantastic turkey/stuffing/cranberry sauce tosti!)

So the easiest thing to do is to pull out the tosti-ijzer (a small countertop tosti making machine, much like a panini press or a sandwich maker grill) which just about any Dutch family has. Some kitchens have them permanently located on top of the counter, others will have to dig it out of a cupboard, but most homes do have one. Grab all the breads out of the broodtrommel, the bread box, retrieve several cheeses and meats from the fridge, raid the produce pantry or groentela, the produce drawer in the fridge, and have everybody make their own tosties. Don't have one of those fancy tosti making machines? Not to worry: just like making grilled cheese sandwiches, tosties can also be made in frying pans. Make a big salad, pour everybody a glass of cold milk, and dig into the tosties! 

And after the savory tosties come, naturally, the sweet ones: a tosti with apple and cinnamon, or one with banana and peanut butter or strawberry jam, another using up the pineapple slices from the Tosti Hawaii that someone made earlier......it's a great way of using up those last pieces of cheese, sandwich meat or a lick of leftover jam that needed to go. Quick and easy, and yet such comforting food! 

Tosti Ham Kaas

2 slices bread

2 slices cheese

2 slices ham

Butter

Optional; mustard, mayonnaise, ketchup

Spread butter, mustard, or mayonnaise on the bread slices on one side of each, and arrange the cheese and ham between these slices. Butter the outside of the bread, and place it in the hot panini grill, the sandwich maker, or in a hot skillet. When the bottom side of the sandwich is golden brown, carefully flip it over. Continue to grill/fry until the other side is now golden brown too. Remove from pan. Cut in half, dip in ketchup, and eat. Eat hot! 

*If you don't have, or want to use butter, slather the outside of the bread slices liberally with mayonnaise and fry the sandwich in the pan. Use real mayo, not salad dressing!

Gebakken aardappelen

This text was published previously in Dutch, the mag.

You would think we had invented it ourselves, this vegetable, with as much as we like it. Ask any Dutch person what a typical Dutch meal consists of, and they’re bound to mention the potato. Whether they’re boiled, fried, mashed, it seems to matter not. We just love our taters! But if you think these nutritious aardappels, earth apples, were originally from our clay fields, you’re wrong. Well, partially wrong.

The potato, via a long way from South America, was first introduced in Holland in 1593, when botanist Carolus Clusius brought them to the gardens in Leiden from where they expanded to Groningen and Amsterdam. The potato back then was not grown for its capacity to feed many, but almost as a medical curiosity and was considered to have curative powers. It wasn't until the early 1700's before any serious growing of potatoes took place, and not for human consumption but as animal fodder.

We had to wait until the 1880's before the potato was considered edible. It has never reached that status of super-food or fancy fare, but managed to provide sustenance for many of the less fortunate population. And just like with carrots, the ingenuity of the Dutch and the desire to improve the product, lead to a large variety of new types of potato from our home soil, of which the Bintje is probably the most famous one.

The Dutch kitchen has never been the same since. The warm evening meal more often than not contains potatoes. Evening snacks and Saturday evening take-away consists often of French fries. If we've boiled too many potatoes the day before (and some will do it on purpose), they’re sliced and fried in butter the next day, sometimes tossed with sautéed onions and bacon, and served alongside a green salad. So don't be shy, peel and boil a couple of potatoes extra, slice and fry them in butter the next day, toss them with sauteed onions and bits of bacon and you're set for the evening!

Gebakken aardappelen

6 boiled potatoes (preferably boiled the day before and refrigerated overnight)

2 tablespoons butter

1 small onion, diced

4 slices thick cut bacon, diced

Cut the potatoes into thick slices. Heat the butter in the pan and fry the diced bacon. Remove the bacon when slightly crispy and add the slices to the grease. Make sure each slice touches the bottom of the skillet. Turn to low and slowly fry the potatoes until golden. Flip them over to the other side. You may have to do several batches.

When the potatoes are golden on both sides, quickly sauté the diced onion in the grease, and toss it with the bacon and the potatoes.  Season with salt to taste, and serve hot. 

Lammetjespap

It's cold, dark, rainy and on top of that I'm not feeling all that hot. Well, actually I AM feeling hot, but not in a good way :-).

When kids (and not-so-kids) are feeling a bit under the weather, a comforting dish that's quickly made and often meets approval is something called "lammetjespap", lamb's porridge. Depending on where you were raised, that might either mean warm milk thickened with flour and sweetened with sugar (northern provinces). It's similar to bierpap but without the beer. Or it could be a couple of beschuiten (Dutch rusks) in warm milk with a generous serving of sugar, as they do in the southern provinces.

The beschuiten version was the one my grandma Pauline would make for me. She would break two beschuiten in a deep soup plate, sprinkle some sugar on top and pour warm milk from the stove. The dried rusks would soak up the milk, soften and turn into small, mushy pieces. I often wondered why it was called "lamb's porridge". The lumps of soaked rusk could vaguely resemble the woolly back of little lambs, I guess. Very vaguely, I realize, and surely the onset of a fever helps with the visualisation there. Maybe the name was given to the porridge because it was warm, comforting and just overall...well, woolly and cozy and warm. Just like a little lamb.

But the porridge is not just a contemporary dish. Lammetjespap was also standard on the menu for recovering TB-patients, many which were young children, during the early years of the 19th century. Prominent Frisians financed the Friesch Volkssanatorium voor Onvermogende Beginnende Borstlijders (Frisian Popular Recovery Center for Destitute Early Chest Sufferers) in an effort to halt the spreading of the contagious disease. Medication was, at that time, not yet available and because of its popular nature and low daily fee, the recovery center provided beds for the poor, but little else. The consumption patients had to recover with the help of light, air, a lot of rest and nutritious food, in this case lammetjespap.  The flour porridge (northern versions of lammetjespap consist of little more than milk, flour and sugar) was comforting, filling and delivered some nutritional value, albeit little, to the suffering ill.

Today is lammetjespap-day for me, the southern version. I'm cuddling up with a bowl, a blankie and a book. See you next week!

 

A Dutch dinner party!

I love three day weekends! It gives me a little bit more time to do something extra: I sleep in a little bit longer, I pull out a recipe of two I've been wanting to try, or I kick back with a book or a magazine. But the best thing about three day weekends is that it gives me one more evening to plan something to cook. And a Dutch dinner party sounds just like the ticket!!

How about we start with an appetizer while the guests arrive? Maybe some bitterballen and diced Gouda cheese on a platter (with good mustard of course!) while we visit over a glass of something or other. It's a great time to relax, share the latest news, or make plans for a weekend away together.

When people are finally seated, start with a witlofsalade, or a light soup such as groentensoep met balletjes. That's easy enough. But now comes the hard part! What vegetable are you going to serve? Boerenkool met worst is wonderful but perhaps a bit too casual? How about a traditional gehaktbal met jus, cauliflower, and cute little boiled potatoes? Or hachee with mashed potatoes and rode kool met appeltjes? And don't forget those delectable slavinken!

Finish your dinner with hangop or vla, whether it's hopjes or vanillevla. And how about an appelbol, or kersenvlaai with your 8pm coffee to round off the evening. Sounds like a splendid time!

What would you like to see on the menu?

 

Hoornse Broeder

 

It's carnaval this weekend!! Thousands have cancelled the next couple of work days, dusted off their favorite masks, costumes or festive gear and have taken to the streets to party en masse, weather permitting, of course. Granted, the mayority of this carousal takes place "below the rivers", referring to the more southern provinces of the country, particularly Noord-Brabant and Limburg, but even up north we see evidence of carnival outings.

Not in the least outdone by the carnival-related foods of the southeners, with their nonnevotten, haringsalade, and boerenkool met worst, the northerners also have their share of carnival foods. Surprised? So was I! And apparently it's not a new trend or something they picked up in the last couple of years, but carnival has been known to be celebrated in provinces as far north as, well as far north as you can go before getting your feet wet!

Vastenavond, literally fasting evening, is the Tuesday night before the forty day fast that starts on Ash Wednesday. It was the last day that people could indulge in all that tasted good. Villages would bake sugary pastries or sausage rolls to get one more serving of all that they'd be missing out on during the Fast. That was the purpose of some traditional foods back then, nowadays they more often serve to provide a good buffer for all the drinking that may occur.

Brabant has its worstenbroodjes, Limburg has its nonnevotten, that's practically common knowledge. But reading up on festive dishes, it turns out that Hilversum, in the province of Noord-Holland, bakes schuitbollen (or at least used to), Harlingen has Festeljoun brea (vastenavond bread), and in Borculo they eat haspels. 

Today's breadcake comes from Hoorn, in the region of West-Frisia, in the province of North-Holland. It is a heavy bread, with plenty of raisins and currants and a center of melted brown sugar. Sometimes slices of bacon would be added to the syrupy middle. The Broeder was traditionally baked on a petroleum stove, on low heat, in a heavy pan with a tablespoon of oil and flipped halfway through.

Nowadays it can be done either in a cast iron pan on the stove, in a spring form in the oven or just free form on a baking sheet. Traditionally served with carnaval, but also often presented as a gift to a new mother, the Hoornse broeder is now available year-round.

Hoornse Broeder
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup warm milk
2 teaspoons active dry yeast
1 egg
Pinch of salt
1 cup mixed golden and dark raisins
1/4 cup currants

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 cup brown sugar
Cinnamon (optional)
1 tablespoon butter

Mix the flour, milk, yeast, egg and salt into a kneadable dough. Cover and let it rest and rise until doubled in size. Punch it down, roll it out and knead the raisins and currants into the dough. Cut in half, roll into balls and cover for ten minutes.

Use a rolling pin to flatten each ball of dough into a circle. Add a cup of brown sugar on top of one, leaving about an inch of dough uncovered. Sprinkle with cinnamon, if desired. Dot the sugar with the butter, and place the second circle of dough on top. Press down the sides so that they stick together, you may want to brush the dough with a little bit of water if needed.

Heat a cast iron pan and add 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil. Place the broeder in the pan, cover with the lid and bake on low on the stove (or bake in the oven at 350F). After thirty minutes, check and turnover so that the other side gets baked (don't need to do that in the oven).

Cut and serve while warm so the butter and brown sugar are still gooey and syrupy, or wait till the whole bread has cooled down. The sugar will go back to being slightly crumbly and create a layer of goodness between the two breads. I prefer mine warm and runny, so there is hardly any filling visible in the picture.

 

 

Broeder is usually not served with powdered sugar on top, in case you noticed.......I got distracted and the top colored much darker than I wanted to! Oops!

 

Spruitjes

 

"Spruitjes? Vies!" ("Brussels sprouts? Gross!") is Dutch for what most children would say if they heard that Brussels sprouts were on the menu. Quite often, when asked what the evening dish entails, the Dutch will answer by simply stating the vegetable. It is generally understood that boiled or mashed potatoes are part of the deal and traditionally, a certain type of meat is expected to go with a particular dish. So by learning what vegetable will be served, the whole menu will usually be crystal clear. Tonight's dinner therefore consists of spruitjes, boiled potatoes and fresh sausage, or braadworst.

But back to the spruitjes. Possibly a child's least favorite vegetable because of the bitterness (and the similarity to rock hard green marbles?), spruitjes however are a staple on the Dutch table. Whether simply boiled, or mashed into a stamppot, they are often found on the menu during the winter months. Brussels sprouts, just like other cabbages, will often benefit from a bit of frost, where the starches will convert to sweet sugars.

Nowadays, however, Brussels sprouts have been modified to taste less bitter. Although the flavor has changed, the nutritional value of these little green globes has remained: a very valuable source of vitamin B and C. Just what you need in the winter!

Spruitjes can be steamed, boiled or stir-fried.

Spruitjes
1 lb Brussels sprouts
6 large potatoes
4 fresh sausages
2 tablespoons butter
Salt
Nutmeg

Clean the sprouts by cutting off the bottom and removing outer leaves, if damaged or heavily soiled. Peel the potatoes, cut in half and bring them to a boil. In a separate pot, bring water to a boil, add the sprouts, add some salt and boil on low for ten minutes. Drain, melt one tablespoon of butter in a skillet and slowly braise the vegetables, covered, until they're done. In the meantime, melt the rest of the butter in a skillet, fry the sausages until brown on each side, then add half a cup of water, cover and simmer. Drain the potatoes.

Serve the potatoes with the sausage and the sprouts. Put a pinch of nutmeg on the sprouts and pour a tablespoon of pan gravy over the potatoes, in case you wish to prak them.