Gezelligheid kent geen tijd

"Time flies when you're having fun"

Gezellig is one of those typical Dutch words that defy translation and often confuse non-natives when confronted with it: it's not cozy, it's not comfortable, it's just gezellig. It describes a mood, a feeling and, dare I say, a national common purpose.

Gezellig is going shopping with a girlfriend to the market, seeing new products from stall to stall and then relaxing on a café patio with a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie.

Gezellig is an evening at home with friends, talking over a nice dinner, a glass of wine, some snacks. Before you know it, it's 3am in the morning, you get ready to go home and everybody agrees that it was very gezellig and that you should do this again soon . In English you would say "time flies when you're having fun". In Dutch, it's Gezelligheid kent geen tijd. (Gezelligness doesn't keep track of time).

Gezellig is making time for each other, for connecting with like-minded people, for exchanging ideas, thoughts, visions without anybody getting upset or annoyed. You can't be gezellig alone, you need someone else there with you. If you get your panties in a twist or somehow easily upset the idyllic environment, you will be quickly classified as "ongezellig", or not gezellig at all. Not good if you thrive on other people's company, great if you're a hermit.

British-born Marianne Orchard from Like A Sponge, a former blog about the Dutch language and living in Holland, discussed this national characteristic in her post about the Avondvierdaagse (a national four day evening walking event that is held throughout the country) and mentions the following:

" Then I have a sudden flash of enlightenment and I understand the Avondvierdaagse better than I did last year: I just need to see it in terms of gezelligheid. (...) We are missionaries of gezelligheid. There will be no ungezelligd territory. On Dutch maps of yore it doesn’t say ‘here be dragons’ for unchartered territory: it says ‘here be ongezelligheid’."

It's almost a national decision to be gezellig, and very much the core of our culture. And let's face it, in these challenging times, shouldn't we make some time to deliberately be gezellig, with our family, friends or casual strangers.......So go forth and be gezellig today!

Aardappelsalade

As much as we like our potatoes, you'd think aardappelsalade, potato salad, would have a huge place in the Dutch kitchen. The potato as an edible tuber was introduced to the Netherlands in the late 1500's and since, thrifty housewives have found numerous ways of implementing potatoes into their daily menu.

Nevertheless, neither potato salad nor mashed potatoes are big in the Netherlands. Leftover boiled potatoes are usually just sliced and fried golden in butter and served with lunch or dinner the next day, and mashed potatoes still are most often made from a bag instead of fresh potatoes. I'm not saying that we don't eat potato salad, it just doesn't seem to have much of an appeal somehow.

This would explain why not many Dutch cookbooks, whether they cover modern, traditional, regional or last-century cooking, mention potato salad at all. Out of the random twenty books I pulled off the shelf only three books mentioned potato salad: one was a student cookbook, one a book on Limburg dishes and one was a general, basic cookbook from the early eighties. Any of the other books, not a word....

But aardappelsalade is not altogether absent either. Served as a cold salad on the side with an order of uitsmijter, you can still find it here and there, most often in road restaurants, or served with bread as a late evening snack at a party or a get-together. Aardappelsalade is also traditionally the basis of a more elaborate dish called "koude schotel", cold tray, that is often served at barbeque or grill backyard parties, summer lunches or rural weddings or funerals.

The aardappelsalade consists usually of a few main ingredients: boiled potatoes, onions, pickles and mayonnaise. Anything else beyond that is up to someone's own interpretation of the salad, and often depends on family or regional favorites. Some add leeks, spring onions, celery, or carrots ....others add bacon, roast beef, kielbasa or chicken. A lighter version can be made with yogurt instead of mayonnaise, or a more complex salad flavorwise is achieved with adding mustard or piccalilly.

This potato salad is one that my oma, grandmother, would make. Adding apple to a potato salad seems to be a more southern tradition and will not be liked by all, at first. However, the incredible flavor marriage between the salty and creamy potato, the crunch of the apple, the tanginess of the pickle and the slight sweetness of the onion.....it all comes together beautifully and will win over many a potato salad loving heart.

A refreshing, easy to make salad for those hot summer evenings, this potato salad will be a welcome addition to your backyard barbeque menu, or as a quick lunch snack with a slice of bread.

Oma's aardappelsalade

8 medium potatoes

1/2 of a small onion

8 dill pickles, whole

2 small red apples

6 tablespoons of mayonnaise

3 tablespoons of pickle juice

Salt and pepper to taste

Scrub the potatoes and boil in salty water until done, about twenty minutes. If a fork easily goes through the skin and hits the center of the potato without resistance, the potatoes are done. Pour off the water and set the tubers to the side to cool.

In the meantime, mince the onion and the pickle. Scrub the apple but leave the peel on, core it and dice. Peel the warm potatoes, then cube them into bite-size pieces. It's best if the potato is still slightly warm. Mix the mayonnaise with the pickle juice and carefully stir the potato cubes into the dressing, and add the minced onion, pickle and apple. Carefully fold the salad until all liquid is absorbed. Taste. Adjust seasonings with salt and pepper.

Cover and refrigerate for at least four hours or preferably overnight. Serve cold.

Kletskoppen

Sometimes this whole Dutch food mapping quest throws me a curveball. Ever since I was a child, I remember these crispy, sweet cookies to be flavored with peanuts. Heck, I even thought that the name for it, kletskop* (bald head), was because of the glabrous goobers rising above the flat surface of the cookie.

But when looking up kletskop recipes in my collection of cookbooks, I noticed that the ingredients consistently listed almonds. Either ground or chopped almonds, but no peanuts. I consulted some of the Dutch friends that were online whether they remembered kletskoppen with peanuts or almonds, and all but one remembered peanuts. On top of that, last Christmas when I spent some time in Holland I bought an array of cookies (gotta love the extent of research I do for this blog!!) and I distinctly remember the kletskoppen having peanuts.

What to do, what to do? For authenticity's sake I would use almonds, since that seems to be the official version, but for memory's sake I'm more inclined to go with peanuts, seeing as how that's what seems to be the "right" cookie. So I made both. And I definitely favor the peanut one, if only for the fact that it makes the cookie bulkier and nuttier.

If you are allergic to nuts, make the cookie by itself or substitute the nuts for chocolate chips, raisins etc....If someone else along the line changed almonds to peanuts without telling any of us, you are more than welcome to make this cookie your own!

*Kletskop can also mean "chatterbox". Where the name comes from is unclear but the city of Leiden seems to claim kletskoppen as their own.

Kletskoppen

4 tablespoons butter (60 grams), room temperature

1/2 cup brown sugar (100 grams), tightly packed

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 cup (50 grams) Spanish or regular peanuts

1/3 cup (60 grams) all-purpose flour

Cream the butter with the sugar and the cinnamon. Add flour one tablespoon at a time until it's all absorbed. Fold in the peanuts and preheat the oven to 400F/200C. Place the rack right above the middle position.

The dough should be slightly sticky but easy to work with. If it sticks too much, add a little bit of flour or refrigerate the dough for ten minutes, then try again. Test one cookie by rolling about 28 grams/1 oz  of dough into a marble. Line your baking sheet with a double lining of parchment paper or with a silicone pad. Put the dough marble on top and press it down with the palm of your hand. Bake for five to eight minutes. The dough will spread significantly because of the high sugar/fat content but will burn just as quick so keep an eye on it.

Take the tray out of the oven, let the cookie cool for a minute or two, then carefully transfer it to a cooling rack. It will harden as it cools. It should have spread to about 3.5 inches/8.5 cm in diameter. 

Did it spread too much? Add half a tablespoon of flour and mix it into the dough. Did it not spread enough? Add half a tablespoon of water. Try again. Once you have the right result, roll the rest of the dough into marbles and bake. 

Check after five minutes to make sure they're not burning, remove and after cooling for a minute or two, transfer them to a cooling rack. Store in a cookie jar, as humidity, will soften these cookies up in no time!

Makes approximately 20 cookies. This is a fantastic cookie to go with a cup of coffee or tea. Because of its crispness, it lends itself to more than just a treat with your daily beverage of choice. Add texture to your puddings with a crisp kletskop or use two cookies for an ice cream sandwich.

Kroketten

Market sign announcing the "one
and only" Van Dobben Kroket  on
a roll

The most popular posts on this blog tend to be either sandwich-related or fast-food related: the broodjes post scores high, as well as the bitterballen and the frikandellen posts. The latter scores high on a list of its own, the Top Ten of Favorite Snacks (http://snacks.toptien.nl/), and is closely followed by the ultimate deep-fried gravy stick, the meat kroket.

Companies such as Van Dobben and Kwekkeboom, both food establishments in Amsterdam, are famous for their meat kroketten and have been offering this fried delicacy since the mid 1940s. Each has their own following, and discussions about which kroket is superior is ongoing. Patisserie Holtkamp, one of the more sophisticated baked goods shops around town, also showcases kroketten, or in their case, croquetten, but has embraced a more varied flavor assortment: veal, cheese, sweetbreads/truffle and lobster. The Holtkamp shrimp croquet is their best-selling item. 

Holtkamp's Shrimp Croquet

Kroketten started as a great way to use up leftovers: Sunday's roast, or meat used to make soups, ended up in the meat grinder, then folded into a creamy thick gravy, after which it was refrigerated, rolled into logs, breaded and deep-fried to a beautiful golden bar. Meat kroketten are usually consumed with a good mustard, either by themself or on a white roll.

The cookbook from the Amsterdam Home Economics School, Kookboek van de Amsterdamse Huishoudschool, in its tenth edition from the 1940s, mentions a variety of croquetten: meat but also potato and shrimp, fish, sweetbreads, cheese and even macaroni. The spelling was fancier (the "c" and "q" were replaced by the more common "k" in later years) which also implied a more sophisticated presentation: according to the book, croquetten were to be deep-fried until golden, stacked in a pyramid-shape and served on a starched napkin with fried parsley for decoration.

Wow. Well, nowadays the meat kroket is usually served in a less charming manner: in a triangular paper cone or simply out of the wall on a paper tray, with no fried parsley or starched napkin in sight. And you'll be hard pressed to find a sweetbread kroket or a macaroni kroket in any of the establishments for supplying fatty foods such as the neighborhood snackbars or Febos.

But let that not stop us! Today we're making meat kroketten. The meat was first used to draw a beef stock for a vegetable soup, then shredded. You can also use leftover roast beef. If all you have is a pound of raw chuck roast or some other simmer meat, place the meat in a saucepan, add eight cups of water, half an onion, two peeled carrots and two chopped sticks of celery. Bring to a boil, then cover and simmer for two hours. Skim the broth, discard the vegetables and cool the meat.

Make sure you bread the kroket on all sides: one small crack and the filling will spill out into the fryer and cause a mess. You can also use this mixture for bitterballen. Once you get the hang of it, experiment with your own flavors. Leftover bbq beef? Go for it. A vegetarian version with a mushroom medley? Awesome! Just because Kwekkeboom, Holtkamp and Van Dobben come up with all kinds of flavors, doesn't mean you can't :-)

Kroketten
1 lb (450 grams) beef, cooked and chilled
1 cup (250 ml) milk or beef bouillon
6 tablespoons flour

1 tablespoon chopped parsley
1/8 teaspoon dried thyme
1/4 teaspoon  ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon  salt
2 tablespoons (30 grams)  butter
2 eggs
1 cup panko or breadcrumbs

Shred the cooked meat and chop fine in a food processor, or by hand. Melt the butter in a pan, and stir in the flour. When the flour has soaked up all the fat, slowly pour in the milk or bouillon while continuing to stir. The flour will thicken the liquid and turn into a thick, creamy gravy. Stir at least one or two more minutes after the sauce has come together to get rid of some of the flour taste. Now add the tablespoon of chopped parsley, the pinch of pepper and salt and finally stir in the chopped meat. If the gravy is too thin, add another tablespoon of flour. Too thick? Carefully add a tablespoon of milk or broth to the mix and stir.

Spread this meaty mix on a baking sheet or a shallow plate, let it cool for about thirty minutes, then wrap and refrigerate it overnight.

Remove the roux from the fridge. Sprinkle some flour on the counter, divide the mixture into six equal pieces and roll each piece through the flour. Shape into tight logs, approximately 4 inches long and 1 inch wide. Your main concern will be to have kroketten approximately the same size. Wrap and refrigerate, while you prepare the rest.

Place three deep plates in a row. In the first one, put flour, the second one 2 beaten eggs, the third one, one cup of panko or breadcrumbs. Take the kroketten out of the fridge. With your dominant hand, lightly roll the kroket in the flour, then through the egg (make sure you cover the whole surface!) and finally through the breadcrumbs. Check to see that each area of the log is covered. Set aside while you repeat with the rest of the kroketten. Wrap and refrigerate while you heat up the oil.

Heat your fryer oil up to 375F. When it's ready, place one or two kroketten at a time in the hot oil and fry them until golden. This will take anywhere from 3-5 minutes. Take them out of the oil and let them drain on a couple of paper towels to get some of the fat off.

Serve hot. With or without fried parsley or a starched napkin, but do not forget the mustard!

Groentesoep met balletjes

One of the many perks of writing this blog is receiving and responding to emails from readers. Some of you comment on the articles, others reminisce about the memories a dish brings back, and yet others ask for a specific recipe. Soup must be in the air, so to say, as several requested "soep met balletjes", soup with meatballs, this last week.

Holland's cuisine knows many soups, from the sturdy thick split pea soup to a brothy, light, appetite-arousing groentesoep, or vegetable soup, like today's recipe.  A standard item in groentesoep are, besides the vegetables, these so-called soup balls, or soepballetjes. Not the big softball-size meatballs, or gehaktballen, that the Dutch serve for dinner, but bitesize balletjes the size of marbles. 

The meat used for these fleshy globes is "half-om-half", half pork and half beef. The fattiness of the pork makes sure that the meatballs stay juicy and tender, and the beef adds body and flavor. Omas, or grandmas, usually had a "pannetje soep" on the back of the stove, simmering, and many of us associate soup with Sunday afternoon visits to grandma's house. Soup is still a favorite starter for an evening meal or a Sunday lunch, and an easy and affordable dish to feed a family with.

Practically any kind of soup will benefit from these soepballetjes, whether they're stock-based or thick, puréed soups. You may consider rolling enough to freeze so you can have them at hand at any moment. Just a thought!

Today's soup is a simple vegetable soup: use either store-bought bouillon cubes to make the eight cups of stock, or make your own. Select a variety of chopped vegetables (typical Dutch soup vegetables are leeks, cauliflower, carrots and celery) or, if you're in a pinch, even a bag of frozen stir-fry vegetables will do.

Groentesoep met balletjes

8 oz (500 grams) ground pork
8 oz (500 grams) ground beef
1 tablespoon panko or breadcrumbs
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
8 cups (2 liters) bouillon or stock
2 cups (depends) vegetables

Mix the meats with the breadcrumbs, the salt, pepper and nutmeg until well blended. Roll small meatballs the size of a marble.

In the meantime, heat the bouillon stock to a slow boil. Add the fresh vegetables and simmer for a good twenty minutes. Put several soepballetjes at a time in the bouillon, wait ten seconds, then add some more, until they're all in the soup. The meatballs are done when they start to float, within a minute or two.

Taste the soup, adjust seasonings as needed and serve warm. This is one of those soups that improves with time, so feel free to make a large pot!



.

Gebakken Peren

"To be left with baked pears" is a typical Dutch saying which indicates you are in trouble, or that you're left holding the proverbial bag. Presumably the expression comes from the Middle Ages, where women sold stewed or baked pears on the street. If they had not sold all their merchandise by the end of the day, they were left "stuck with baked pears".

Whether that's true or not, I am unsure but it's a cute story and I'll go with it. Holland has many sayings that involve food somehow: cheese (laat zich het kaas niet van het brood eten), vegetables (een kool stoven), fruit (met de gebakken peren zitten), or meat (wat voor vlees je in de kuip hebt), beans (boontje komt om zijn loontje), butter (boter op zijn hoofd hebben) and ofcourse bread (de een zijn dood is de ander zijn brood).

I found a recipe for baked pears in an old Albert Heijn cookbook but found the execution a little on the boring side. I tend to follow recipes to a T, especially because I want to make sure I reflect the original flavors, but in this case I allowed myself a little culinary freedom. Baked pears are traditional in the verbal fashion, but are not a typical dish or one with much history. However, for a change, one can be glad to be left "stuck with baked pears"!

Gebakken Peren
3 large pears, firm (I used Bartletts)

3 tablespoons of butter
1 cup of sugar, divided
1 cup of water
1 tablespoon of panko or unseasoned breadcrumbs
1 tablespoon of vanilla flavoring
 2 tablespoons of chopped hazelnuts

Wash and cut the pears in half, don't remove the stem nor peel the fruit. Melt the butter in a skillet and place the pears cut side down. Fry at a low temperature until the pears are golden on the cut side, about ten minutes. Place the pears, this time cut side up, in an oven dish, sprinkle with a tablespoon of sugar and panko and bake for twenty minutes at 350F.

In the meantime, let the butter in the skillet cool a little bit, then add the rest of the sugar while stirring and carefully add the vanilla and the water. Be careful that the sugar has absorbed the butter before you add the water, otherwise it will cause lots of splattering and may cause burns! Stir over heat until the sauce thickens and caramelizes, add the hazelnuts and take off the stove.

Place the pears under the broiler so that the breadcrumbs can brown. Take one pear, place it on a plate and spoon the hazelnut caramel sauce over it.

I served the pears with hangop: 16 oz of plain yogurt is left to drain in a moist cheesecloth in a colander over a bowl for 24 hours. Stir the remaining creamy yogurt with a tablespoon of powdered sugar, just enough to take the sour edge off the dairy, and whip for several beats to incorporate some air into the yogurt. This is called "hangop" or "hangup" in Dutch and is an old-fashioned dessert.

Boterkoek

Boterkoek has a distinct pattern
pressed into the dough
with the tines of a fork

Some days are just better baking days than others: a couple of days ago I had planned on baking a hazelnootschuimtaart, a hazelnut meringue cake. But with one thing and another, things got busy and I wasn't going to have time to make an elaborate cake for the company I was expecting later that day. Thankfully, the Dutch kitchen has so many cookie, cake and pie recipes that I never lack for ideas. In this case, I turned to plan B. As in Boterkoek, an alltime favorite.

The Dutch Buttercake consists of hardly anything else than butter, sugar and flour. Just for giggles, lemon zest, salt and vanilla is added, but the main ingredients are those three key players in the Dutch baking world. Buttercake is just like it sounds: a dense, buttery, sweet cake that sticks to your ribs. And there's nothing wrong with that!

Do make sure all the butter is incorporated into the dough, or it will leave small airpockets in the cake as the butter melts. It's not going to make it taste any different, but it just looks better.

Boterkoek is usually baked for fifteen minutes, but it's one of the trickier cakes to gauge when it's done. As soon as the top starts to color and the sides are slightly dry, it will be ready: you want the inside to still be fairly soft but baked. If you bake it too long, the taste will still be good but the cake will be dry and dense. Nothing wrong with that, and everybody likes their boterkoek a certain way, so you will just have to give it a try and see. Fifteen minutes usually does the trick, but if the middle is still wet, bake it a little longer. After you pull the cake, it's cooled and cut into small squares or narrow slices. It really doesn't lend itself too well for large pieces: it is a heavy cake that is best eaten in small amounts. It can be baked in its original form, or filled with amandelspijs (divide the dough in half, press one half in the pan, spread the almond paste, then cover with the second half of the dough).

Boterkoek

2 sticks of cold butter
2 cups of flour
3/4 cup of sugar
1/8th teaspoon salt
2 eggs
1 vanilla bean
Lemon zest from one lemon

Mix the flour with the sugar, the salt, one egg, the seeds of the vanilla bean and the lemon zest. Cut in the cold butter, then knead the dough until it all comes together. If the dough gets too sticky, wrap it in plastic film and refrigerate it briefly.

Butter a 9 inch pie form, pat the dough into the pan and make sure the top is even. Make markings with a fork as in the first picture, beat the second egg and brush the top of the cake with it, then bake in a 350F oven for about 15 - 20 minutes. Keep an eye on it, and as soon as the sides begin to pull away and toast, it's ready.

Let the cake totally cool before cutting it into narrow slices or squares.

Hangop

Hangop literally means "to hang up". It's an old fashioned Dutch dairy dessert made with buttermilk or yoghurt that's left to drain, hanging, in a towel over a colander; hence the name. The whey is drained, and the remainder of the milk is now a thick, creamy dessert, somewhere between thick cream and creamy yogurt.

Sweeten it with a tablespoon or two of sugar and honey, or just leave it tangy as it is, however you like it, it's fine. I prefer to serve mine with fruit, such as stewed strawberry-rhubarb, stoofpeertjes or just plain fresh fruit. Today, I cut up several ripe strawberries, tossed them with a little bit of sugar and let them rest for an hour or two.

To make the hangop, you'll need a colander, a tea towel, a bowl and plenty of time. Hangop can be made out of buttermilk or yoghurt alone, but the creamiest hangop comes from combining the two. Save the whey for bread baking or a refreshing summer drink.

Hangop

1 quart (1 liter) full-fat cultured buttermilk
1 cup (250 gram) plain yoghurt with active cultures

Warm the buttermilk in a pan on the stove up to 110F (43C). Stir in the plain yoghurt, bring it back up to 110F (43C), then cover with a cloth and set it aside, overnight. The next morning the buttermilk should have thickened considerably. Moisten a tea towel, drape it over a colander and place the colander in a bowl. Carefully pour the buttermilk into the towel. The whey, a light yellow-greenish watery liquid, will almost immediately drip through the towel. Now you can either tie the four ends of the towel together and suspend it from, for example, a kitchen cabinet door knob, or just leave it in the colander. The whey will continue to drain.

After four hours, carefully lift the towel with its contents and slightly squeeze out the rest of the whey. Open the towel and move the hangop into a clean bowl with a spoon. You should have a very thick creamy yogurt!

Stir in your sweetener of choice and see if it's creamy enough. If too much whey drained, you can stir in some whipping cream or some milk, one tablespoon at a time. Enjoy!!

Garnalencocktail

For a country that's partially below sea level, partially surrounded by the North Sea, and with a history of seafaring daredevils, you'd think we'd eat fish every day. Or if not every day, at least more often than we do. Granted, fried fish has its own stall on the market offering kibbeling, lekkerbekken and other tasty morsels, herring is traditionally a delicacy and even fish sticks make it on the menu every now and then. 

But fish for dinner, unless it's fried or Friday, is not very common. Seafood, in particular, is still considered a bit of a luxury and will not often make it to the table "just because", or as a regular midweek dinner option. It's strange really, because there are so many exciting things to eat from the Dutch waters that is not just your plain ole fishy-fish-fish. Mussels, eel, herring, oysters, clams, trout, plaice, and some local varieties such as the North Sea sole, and the North Sea shrimp otherwise known as the Dutch brown shrimp, or in Dutch grijze garnaal, grey shrimp, are all excellent choices. 

This last one, Crangon crangon,  is very tasty and a real treat if you can get your hands on some: the shrimp are smaller and browner in color than the pink ones, but the taste is also much more delicate and flavorful. Use them for shrimp cocktails, in warm seafood dishes or covered in whiskey cocktail sauce on a white roll.

As their size is smaller, these little nuggets are a pill to peel mechanically, so it's done mostly by hand. In the old days, this was part of the daily chores of the women of Volendam and Zeeland, but is now outsourced to countries such as Poland and Morocco. An old television advertisement for the Yellow Pages, featuring two Dutch shrimp peelers, gives an idea of this overwhelming task.

For celebratory occasions such as Christmas and New Years, often a shrimp cocktail will be part of the dinner course. Served in a glass, with some lettuce, parsley and a dollop of whiskey-cocktail sauce, it's a festive way to start a meal - very seventies, in a way, and a nice change from red horseradish cocktail sauce.

The sauce really makes or breaks the dish. Make sure you make a larger batch of sauce, as it goes very well with other foods, especially with red meats or French fries!

Makes four servings.

Garnalencocktail
12 oz (350 grams) salad shrimp (or shrimp of choice)
1 cup (250 ml) whipping cream
2 tablespoons ketchup
4 tablespoons mayonnaise
1/8 scant teaspoon sweet paprika
1/8 scant teaspoon curry powder
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon whiskey
Pinch of white pepper
Pinch of salt (optional)
Lettuce leaves
Parsley

Lightly whip the cream so that it takes volume, one or two minutes, but remains liquid. Carefully fold in the ketchup, mayonnaise, paprika, curry, lemon juice and white pepper. Add the whiskey, stir and taste. Adjust the seasonings if needed. If you like a little kick, add a pinch of cayenne pepper.

Rinse the lettuce leaves, then divide them over four glasses. Pat the shrimp dry and divide over the lettuce,  add a good dollop of sauce on top of the shrimp and finish with some parsley.

Nieuws! - First new herring brought ashore

Radio Netherlands just announced that the first herring of the season, known as Hollandse Nieuwe, has been caught and brought ashore. The article says that according to experts, "this year's herring should be an especially good crop." The first barrel was sold at the Scheveningen auction today for €67,750.

"Flag Day" is the day that kicks off the official herring season in coastal Holland: fishing floats are decorated with strings of flags to celebrate the Hollandse Nieuwe's arrival and several coastal towns celebrate by having live music concerts, traditional arts and crafts and ofcourse, lots of fish for eating.

A herring fit for the Hollandse Nieuwe title is one that has at least 16% body fat, and is prepared following a traditional method: with a special knife, the fish's gills and entrails are removed, except for the pancreas. This organ releases enzymes that will "ripen" the fish. The fish is slightly salted and stored in a barrel for five to seven days, then sold.

Well, good! Unfortunately, here in the United States, we will miss out on the fishy fun. If you feel homesick, or just want to celebrate this day, try this pickled herring salad instead: it's quick to make and all the ingredients can be found at your local store!

Bereklauw

One of Holland's snack bars

Fast food has its own key players in Holland: ofcourse you can get a "vette bek" (literally "a greasy piehole", referring to the state of your mouth after you consume the fast food of your choice) at McDonalds, KFC or any other international fast food chain, but Dutch "snack bars" such as Febo, the neighborhood cafetarias and patatkramen, shoarma places and broodjeszaken have a much more interesting variety of quick snacks. Besides the ubiquitous patat, or French fries, the Dutch have many meaty choices to pick from.

We've covered frikandellen and bitterballen before. Hotdogs and kroketten are also still pretty mainstream, but then we're getting into the more, shall we say, creative side of the snack business: items such as Kipcorn (a deep fried sausage from chicken meat and coated with corn flakes), Mexicano (a spicy rectangular flat beef patty that sports something akin to tire tracks), bamischijf (breaded asian noodles shaped like a bright orange hockey puck), nasibal (breaded fried rice ball), Sitostick (battered cubed turkey meat and pieces of onion on a stick), kaassouflé (a puffed up square of breaded cheese), nierbroodjes (kidney kroket) etc etc etc. These items are all deep-fried and contribute beautifully to the "vette bek" syndrome!

Automatiek Beursken in Velp still makes
most snacks from scratch

To increase business and make it easier for customers to just grab a quick bite to eat instead of having to stand in line to order, the Dutch use a "food in the wall" system called automatiek, or automat in the US.  Deep-fried beauties are showcased behind small windows. You drop in some coins, pull open the window of your choice and enjoy the hot, greasy snack. Repeat.

One of the more hefty choices of these greasy foods, and one that's easy to make at home, is a bereklauw, a bear claw, or berehap (bear bite). Whereas here in the United States a bear claw is a deep fried pastry, the Dutch version is a meatball, cut in thick slabs and speared with slices of onion, then quickly deep-fried. It can be eaten by itself or doused in peanut sauce, mayo or curry ketchup.

The Dutch have a love relationship with meatballs: the large, juicy gehaktballen are a traditional choice for protein for dinner. It goes well with practically any kind of vegetable and is served with a creamy, flavorful pan juice to pour over the potatoes. This snack is made with any leftover meatballs. Usually, you make a pan full. Whatever is not eaten with dinner that night, will be served sliced cold on a sandwich or, in this case, sliced and deep-fried as a midnight snack.

Bereklauw
4 large meatballs, cooked the day before
2 large onions
Skewers (do not soak!!!)

Slice the cold meatballs in 4 thick slices, cut the onion up in six. Take a skewer and start with the end piece of the meatball, then add a layer of onion, the second piece of meat etc etc. See picture below.

Heat the fryer to 375F. When the oil is ready, place one or two in the grease and fry for a good four to five minutes, or until the onions are done.

Douse with peanut sauce or ketchup and enjoy your bear claw!

Limburgse Kruimelvlaai

Vlaaien are a typical pie from the south of Holland, more accurately from the province of Limburg. A Limburgse vlaai may only be called such when the whole pie has been baked. Baking the dough first and then filling it with a cream cheese filling or a bavaroise automatically disqualifies the pastry to be called "limburgse": it will have to suffice with being called a vlaai.

My grandma used to tell me stories about the vlaaien they would bake during Kermis, or fair time. Once a year, the fair would come to town and families would bake up to thirty vlaaien to feed friends and family: fancy ones like rice pie, rich puddings and topped with whipped cream, or plain fruit ones. The richer pies would be consumed first, the simple fruit pies would usually be the last ones to be eaten.

A cup of coffee and a slice of vlaai, it is still a traditional way of enjoying time spent with visitors or of celebrating an important milestone in one's life (even if that milestone is having found the perfect shoes on sale that afternoon!) The dough is not the flaky pastry dough as we know it here in America, but rather a yeast dough that needs to rise twice before being baked. 

This kruimelvlaai (crumb pie) is a streusel-topped vanilla pudding pie. This time I chose to use a store-bought vanilla pudding mix, but you can also make this pie with pastry cream. It's a lovely vlaai, with a crunchy top, sweet pudding and a tender crust, perfect for an afternoon treat!

Limburgse Kruimelvlaai
For the dough

1/3 cup milk and 2 Tbsp (100 ml), lukewarm
1 1/2 teaspoons (5 grams) active dry yeast

1 3/4 cup (250 gr) all-purpose flour
2 Tablespoons (30 grams) sugar
1/2 teaspoon (4 grams) salt

1 egg

1/2 stick butter (55 gr), soft at room temperature

2 tablespoons breadcrumbs or panko

Sprinkle the yeast over the warm milk and set it aside to proof. In the meantime, mix the flour with the sugar and the salt. When the yeast has proofed, add the milk to the dough and mix for a minute. Add the egg and continue to mix until the dough comes together, then knead in the butter. Knead everything to a consistent whole, not too sticky but certainly not too dry. Place the dough in an oiled bowl, cover and let it rise.

For the filling
Follow the directions on the cooked pudding box or make the pastry cream per the link above. Make sure you have at least two cups.

For the streusel
1 cup (150 grams) all-purpose flour
1 stick (110 grams) butter
1/2 cup (100 grams) sugar

Cut the butter into the flour and sugar until it feels like wet sand.

Grease an 11 inch/28 cm pie form, roll the dough into a circle and line the form with the dough. Poke holes in the dough with a fork, cover and let rise again until puffy.

Pour the cooled vanilla pudding on top of the dough and cover with the streusel. Bake in a 400F/200C oven for twenty minutes. You may need to place the pie under the broiler for a golden touch.

Eat lukewarm with a cup of coffee and in the company of good friends!

Patat

Patatje speciaal

America has its food trucks, and Holland has its patatkramen. An oasis of all things fried in a quiet neighborhood, or a small shack on the daily market, the patatkraam is usually the neighborhood gathering place around dinner time, and a favorite place to grab a quick snack or a greasy lunch.

Kids will come in and order "french fries for five euros" and will be handed a large family size paper bag filled to the rim with golden fried potatoes to take home and have it served as the starch for dinner. The glass case is filled with raw or precooked meat items such as hotdogs, frikandellen, kroketten, bitterballen, bereklauwen, all piled up in neat stacks from which to choose.

And the fries do not come without choice either: whereas the shape may vary only slightly (steak fries, french fries or shoestring), the amount of sauces and condiments to douse these golden spears with is vast: apart from the traditional mayonnaise (just try it), you can also choose curry ketchup (a spiced up type of ketchup), tomato ketchup, mustard, piccalilli, peanut sauce, joppiesaus (a fairly newcomer to the market of fry sauces, it's flavored with yellow curry). ...and then there are ofcourse the combinations: patatje met ( "fries with", meaning fries with mayo), patatje oorlog ("war fries": fries with mayo, peanut sauce and chopped onion), patatje speciaal (mayo, curry ketchup and chopped onion), patatje stoofvlees (french fries with a savory stewed beef sauce).....

Patatje oorlog

Patat is the generic name for the fries, patatje means a single serving. Fries are served in either a paper cone bag, or a white plastic shallow tray. The cone will allow you to tear the paper as you eat, so your hands don't get dirty from the sauce(s) as you pick at the fries with a small wooden pronged tool. If you have fries served on a plate, it's perfectly okay to eat them using your fingers.

Fries are traditionally prepared in ossewit (beef tallow) or less commonly so, horse fat. During the seventies, the saturated fats were replaced by vegetable fat such as Diamant, and most patatkramen stepped away from the tallow. It impacted the fry fat industry positively, and a myriad of television ads appeared, praising the qualities of vegetable fat and pushing moms to serve patat at least once a week. To this day, Wednesday's dinner is usually patat with a side choice.

The secret to crispy, golden french fries is to fry the taters twice. Once to par-fry them, if you will, then let them rest, and finish it off with a second fry to crisp the outer skin and bring out the golden colors. The traditional potato to use for fries is the Bintje. In the United States, choose a white or yellow potato, preferably starchy, like a Russet, since Bintjes are practically non-existent here. Since beef tallow is hard to come by, use canola oil for frying instead.

Patat

4 large Russet potatoes
Canola oil
Salt

Peel the potatoes and slice in inch thick slices, then cut in strips. Heat the oil to 325F. Rinse the potatoes (removing some of the starch will prevent the fries browning prematurely and ending up with a bitter taste) and dry in a cotton towel. Fry in small batches until lightly golden. Remove from the oil and rest the potatoes in a colander for about 25 minutes, then heat the oil to 375F and fry again, in small batches, until the fries are golden. Toss with salt.

Serve immediately.

What's op with drop?

Oh, how we love our sweet treats in the Netherlands! Candy aisles are stocked with all kinds of colorful goodies, cookie aisles equally so, and the chocolate shelves are overrun with seasonal and regular offerings year round. Yet one of the favorite sweets, for lack of a better word, is an unassuming, rubbery black candy called drop, licorice.

Dutch licorice is a popular and traditional candy that comes in many shapes, sizes and ranging from sweet to various degrees of saltiness, the saltiest* being a small briquette-shaped licorice called DubbelZout (twice as salty). The licorice is made with an extract from the Glycyrrhiza glabra (licorice) plant and a generous amount of salmiak, or ammonium chloride, which provides a distinctive salty and slightly bitter taste that is also particularly popular in the Nordic countries.

Drop, in all shapes and sizes, is consumed in large quantities and it is rumored that the average Dutch person nibbles away approximately five pounds a year, sharing about 32,000 kilos (about 70 thousand pounds) between themselves. Dutch licorice is definitely an acquired taste and seldom liked by non-natives, as noted by an incident in my office not too long ago.

"What's this drop stuff?" my co-worker asked, pointing to a small bag on my desk.

"It's Dutch licorice," I said, squinting at my computer screen. "You won't like it."

"Oh, it's black licorice ! I love black licorice!". Her hand reached for the bag as I pushed it aside.

"It's not the same. Your black licorice is very different from our black licorice".

"No, it's not, it looks just the same. Why can't I try some?"

*sigh*

I handed over a piece of Dutch licorice. Triumphantly, she put it in her mouth and grinned at me. "See? I like it!" Not so fast, I thought, and reached for the waste basket under my desk. And not a second too late, either.

"EWWWWWWW!!!!" It never fails. About ten seconds after they try Dutch licorice, the ammonium taste will hit the buds, with a vengeance. People will pull an ugly face and start looking around desperately for a place to get rid of it. That's when I hold up the trash can, where they gratefully (albeit not gracefully) spit out the contents of their mouth.

"OHMAGAWD!! That is SOOOO gross!! How can you EAT that???" Her eyes open wide, her mouth still reeling from the palatal pummeling it just experienced, she suddenly stopped speaking and glared at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. Was this a prank? Surely, this was a prank!? I could see her thinking. It's hard for others to understand how we can love our drop so much, and I don't even try to explain it anymore. The Icelanders have their hákarl, the Chinese have their fermented or so-called stinky tofu, and the Dutch have their licorice. We all love something different!

For as much as we like our sweets, licorice is one of those oddities that makes the Dutch food culture so unique and interesting. Grocery stores, candy stores and even drugstores will have bulk-sized bins with a rich assortment of various licorices to scoop, weigh and take home. Cat shapes, coins, railroad ties, shoe laces, farm animals, buttons......drop comes in so many flavors, shapes and levels of sweet- or saltiness that there's something for everyone.Well......almost everyone.

* I distinctly remember one called Driedubbelzoute drop, although that one is harder to find.  

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Koninginnesoep

Happy Birthday, Queen Beatrix!!
(Courtesy of eo.nl)

Hip Hip Hurray, it's the Queen's birthday! The whole country is going nuts on April 30th: huge yard sales everywhere (yard- or garage sales are not a common occurence in Holland), open air concerts, food fairs....everybody will be in a festive mood today. To show your support, either for the Royal family or just for partying in general, wear something orange. A wig, a shirt......it's all good. Eat some orange cake, have an orange beer.....and enjoy Queen's Day.

Queen's Day started officially on August 31st, 1890 to celebrate the birthday of the then Queen of the Netherlands, Wilhelmina, and was a yearly festivity until 1948 when her daughter, Juliana, took over the reigns. Juliana was born on April 30th, so Queen's Day moved to early Spring. By the time Beatrix, daughter of Juliana and current Queen of the Netherlands became Head of State in 1980, it was such a tradition to have all the outside activities, that she didn't have the heart to move Queen's Day to her day of birth, January 31st. Which is just as well. The weather cannot be guaranteed to be sunny and pleasant at the end of April, but it's bound to be a heck of a lot better than on January 31st! Beatrix kept April 30th as the date for this colorful national celebration.

Traditionally, the Queen visits one or two locations in the country where she's greeted by the local authorities, given a tour and has the opportunity to show, perhaps feigned, interest in the local sights. Noblesse oblige. This year, she is visiting the two towns of Thorn and Weert in the province of Limburg. Smart move! They'll probably fete her with a nice slice of Limburg vlaai......

There is no food directly related to Queen's Day. Yes, the icing on the cakes will be orange. The tompoezen will have changed their pink icing to sunny orange, there will be orange beer, orange desserts, and many other orange food items. I may even give those orange tompoezen a go tomorrow, I'm always game for dessert.

However, there is one item that holds it own today: Koninginnesoep. A fairly late comer to the Dutch kitchen, a recipe for Queen's Soup appeared for the first time around the 1900's and has been a steady regular at celebratory events. It's a creamy, chicken-stock based soup that will please everybody in your family, and is easy and quick to make. Which is a good thing, today is after all a holiday!

Koninginnesoep
6 cups of seasoned chicken stock
2 cups of whole milk or half-and-half
1/2 cup of peas
1/2 cup of diced carrots
2 cups of cooked chicken meat, diced
1 tablespoon of ground almonds

Warm the stock, add the vegetables and boil until they're tender. Whisk in the milk and bring back up to temperature, but don't boil anymore, the milk might curdle. Stir in the chicken and the almonds, let the soup simmer for another five minutes, then taste and adjust if needed.

Serve royally!

Paastaart

Holland celebrates Easter in a similar way as it does Christmas, with two days. In the case of Easter, First Easter Day is always on Sunday, Second Easter Day is on the Monday following and is often a holiday.

The gathering of family and friends around the breakfast, lunch or dinner table is key on First Easter Day. Stores are closed, children are dressed in their "Paasbest" (Easter Best) with new clothes and shoes. Eggs are colored, hidden and if lucky, all found. If it's not celebrated with an extensive brunch with rolls like paashaasjes, bread toppings, a couple of warm egg dishes and large amounts of coffee, the family will get together for a late lunch or early dinner. Lamb is a traditional dish served for Easter.

Friends and family will also spend time enjoying each other's company over a cup or two of coffee or tea, and with that ofcourse comes something sweet: a Paastaart, or Easter cake. Decorated with fluffy whipped cream, a light biscuit batter and an adult amount of advocaat, this Easter cake will put a smile on your face.

Paastaart
4 eggs

3/4 cup (150 grams) granulated sugar
3/4 cup (100 grams) flour
1/4 cup (35 grams) corn starch
1.5 cups (375 grams) heavy whipping cream
4 tablespoons (30 grams) powdered sugar
yellow food coloring
chocolate easter eggs
1/2 cup (100 grams) chocolate hail
1 cup (235 ml) advocaat

Beat the four eggs with the sugar until foamy. The batter should drip off the whisk in a broad, thick ribbon. Preheat the oven to 320F/160C. Butter and flour an 8' (20 cm) spring form. Sift the flour and the cornstarch together and then carefully fold into the batter: do this carefully as you don't want to loose all the air.

Place the form into the oven and bake for about 25 minutes. Do not open the door of the oven the first twenty minutes as the cake will deflate.

In the meantime, beat the whipped cream with the powdered sugar. Add three or four drops of yellow food coloring while you are beating, if you want it to be yellow, but plain white will also do just fine. Remove the cake from the oven, let it cool and remove it from the form. Split the cake in half lengthwise and spread 1/2 the amount of advocaat on the bottom half. Replace the upper part. Spread the whipped cream on the side of the cake and generously on the top.

Use the chocolate sprinkles to decorate the sides of the cake. Pipe twirlie bits with the rest of the whipped cream on top and strategically place the chocolate Easter eggs on top. Pour the rest of the advocaat in the middle of the cake, refrigerate for at least 30 minutes and serve.

This cake contains alcohol and should be served to adults only! Vrolijk Pasen!!

Aspergesoep

"Aspergesoep is afvalsoep" I read somewhere on the internet, and I'd have to agree: asparagus soup is made with all the waste from an asparagus dinner. But what a soup! The sweet earthy flavor of the asparagus and the soft, silky mouthfeel is comforting but not heavy.

After you prepare asparagus for dinner, boil the skins and the end pieces in the remaining asparagus water, cover and simmer for a good thirty minutes, then put the liquid through a sieve. You should have about four to five cups of vegetable broth. Add half a bouillon cube of chicken stock to the broth.

Save four or five asparagus from dinner, and cut them into three or four pieces. Keep the heads and add the rest to the soup. Purée into a homogenous whole. Now melt two tablespoons of butter in a pan, add two heaping tablespoons of flour, stir until you have a paste and add in a ladle full of hot soup. Keep stirring and add one or two more ladles of soup...then pour everything into the big pot, stir until it all comes together and simmer it for another five minutes.

Cut up the remaining ham of your dinner in small dice, and chop some parsley. Taste the soup and adjust it with salt if needed, then stir in 1/4 cup of cream or whole milk. Divide the asparagus points over four bowls, ladle the hot soup on top, sprinkle with parsley and enjoy!