Appelflappen

 

It's Fall!!! Time to fire up the oven again, as the evenings get colder and, for that matter, the mornings too. But, first a side note. A comment from a reader last week brought an interesting fact to mind, one that has had me puzzled for quite some time. For some obscure reason, Americans confuse Dutch with Danish. I'm not entirely sure if they do it the other way around too, as I don't know any Danish people around here that I can ask.

The thing is, I have encountered it so much, and in such different age groups, that I am beginning to think that it's taught in school. I cannot explain it otherwise.

Nevertheless, every time somebody asks me if I'm Danish or speak Danish, I can't help but think of pastries. I know it's silly, because I've been to Denmark several times and have very dear friends living there. Surely I could think of many other things besides baked goods, but no.....pastries it is. I can't help it!

Danish pastries are very similar in texture to puff pastry. Loaded with butter, they nevertheless have a light and layered presentation and pair well with fruits and custards. A traditional Dutch Danish therefore would be a koffiebroodje, or for something fruitier, an appelflap, or apple turnover. And as it happens, the orchard down the road just emailed to say that the apples are ripe for picking.....so appelflappen it is!

This is a typical pastry that you will find in bakeries, and places where they serve coffee and tea. It's crispy, sweet and filled with the goodness of apples.

Appelflappen
2 tablespoons currants
2 tablespoons raisins
1/2 cup apple juice
3 dried apricots
2 Jonagold apples
2 tablespoons sugar
Pinch of cinnamon
1 lb puff pastry (or one Pepperidge Farm package)
Coarse sugar

Add the currants and the raisins to the apple juice. Put the dried apricots in a small cup and add enough warm water to cover. Soak the currants, raisins and apricots overnight, or at least for a good four hours.

Allow the puff pastry to thaw, while you peel and core the apple. Chop the apple in small pieces. Drain the raisins and currants and add to the apples, stir. Mince the apricots until almost a pulp and fold it into the apple mixture, then add the sugar and the cinnamon and stir until everything is well mixed. Set aside.

Unfold the puff pastry and cut into squares, 4.5 x 4.5 inches approximately. Place them before you with one corner pointing downwards. Place about 1/4 cup of filling on the bottom half of the square, wet the edges of the dough and fold the top part over, forming a triangle. Carefully press the dough around the filling and on the edges, making sure they are tight.

Place the triangles on some parchment paper on a baking sheet and place it in the fridge while you turn on the oven. Heat to 385F.

Remove from the fridge, and moisten the top of each triangle with some water, then sprinkle the coarse sugar on top. Place the baking sheet on the middle shelf in the oven, and bake the turnovers for 20 minutes or until golden.

Makes 8.

 

Tongrolletjes met garnalensaus

For a country that's partially below sea level, 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. Perhaps it's because there are so many exciting things to eat from the Dutch waters that we don’t know which one to pick: mussels, eel, herring, oysters, clams, trout or plaice. This last one, during the yearly fish auction at Urk, fetched a record 63,000 Euros this summer. Often, fish companies will auction off the first catch of the season for a good cause. It gives people an opportunity to travel out to the regional auction houses and spend the day enjoying food, festivities and fun.

Sole is a fish that's traditionally caught in the North Sea, and one of the national delicacies. Its taste is not overly fishy but tends to lean towards a more shrimp-like flavor, and goes especially well with the shrimp sauce that today's recipe calls for. The meat holds up well, and the fish is suitable for a variety of cooking methods: grilling, steaming, frying or stewing. If you cannot find sole or if the price is prohibitive, try flounder instead.

Tongrolletjes in garnalensaus
8 pieces sole
2 cups fish stock
1 cup white wine
1 carrot, chopped
1 stick celery, chopped
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
1 bay leaf
4 peppercorns
2 tablespoons flour
2 tablespoons butter
1 cup cocktail shrimp
2 tablespoons breadcrumbs

Dry the fish and roll each one up, holding it together with a toothpick. Bring the fish stock to a boil, add the wine, the vegetables and the herbs and simmer for ten minutes. Carefully lower the rolled up flounder into the stock and simmer for six minutes, then remove them and drain. Pour the stock through a metal strainer to remove the vegetables and herbs.

In a skillet, melt the butter and the flour and stir together into a paste. Slowly add in the stock and stir well, breaking up any lumps, into a thick sauce. Taste and adjust with salt and a little bit of pepper. Fold in the shrimp. Remove the toothpicks, arrange the flounder rolls in an oven dish, pour the shrimp sauce on top and sprinkle the breadcrumbs over it. Place in a 350F oven for ten minutes or until hot, then toast the breadcrumbs to a golden crisp under the broiler.
 

Great with steamed rice and sautéed spinach.

 

 

Even pauze...

....we're taking a short break... See you next week!

 

Dutch butter

My time in England is winding down. I've been on a discovery tour of the British kitchen: fabulous cheeses, great baked goods and plenty of good butter. As always, out of curiosity, I wonder how much of an influence the Dutch kitchen has had on the English one. After all, there is only a small stretch of water between the two monarchies and they've often spent time sailing the seas together.

In the mid-1500's, Dutch and Flemish protestants fled religious persecution and arrived in Norwich, close to the east coast of England. Over time, close to 6,000 "strangers", as the Dutch were called because of their different clothing and customs, settled around the area. But they did not only bring clothing and customs, they also brought their own pots, pans (such as a frying pan) and dishes. In the book The North Sea and Culture (1550-1800), part of a letter from Claus van Werveken from Norwich to his wife says: "Bring a dough trough, for there are none here.....Buy two little wooden dishes to make up half pounds of butter: for all the Netherlanders and Flemings make their own, for here it is all pigs' fats."

Imagine that. We presumably introduced butter to Norwich. We brought frying pans. Can you visualize the possibilities?! Lard is good, but butter is so much better. It warms my heart to think that such small items of comfort made these refugees feel at home in their new country, and that it left a lasting culinary contribution.

The picture is of a Limburg dish called Kruimelvlaai, or better known in the Venlo dialect as "bôttervlaaj", butter pie. On a cold, rainy and dark day like today, it's seems like an appropriate pie to salute these friendly "strangers" with, and thank them for introducing this significant spread.

 

Huzarensalade

And it's (drumroll)....summer!!! News arrives of sunny skies, warm weather, and even some sunburnt skins. When the sun's out in Holland, you never know how long it's going to last. If they can, people will drop anything they had planned and head out to the parks, the beaches or their own backyards and balconies to make the most of the sunshine.

The last thing you want to do in such a case is spending hours in the kitchen, preparing a meal. Today's dish, huzarensalade, is a perfect dish to serve on a day like this, and using up any leftovers  you may have laying around. It only needs the minimum of attention and dedication, but will be a welcome sight on your table. Give it a light cover of mayonnaise, and decorate the salad with egg, pickles, a dusting of paprika, slices of tomato to transform it into a Limburg "koude schotel", cold platter. 

Huzarensalade, or hussar's salad, was supposedly invented by the Hussars, a light cavalry regiment. As their tactic was to be inconspicuous and since they were always on the go, they would not build fires to cook their food but chop up whatever they had and mixed them together: a boiled potato, a piece of meat, some pickles and created this cold salad, perfect for leftovers..... Whether the story is true or not, is almost irrelevant: the result is a tasty, filling and refreshing dish with a minimum of effort!

Preferably use leftover veggies for this salad. If you don't have any leftover roast, ham or cold steak, simmer some beef the evening before. Depending on the cut of meat, this can take up to two hours: just let it simmer on low under tender. If you simmer the beef with some carrots, celery and onion, you can use the remaining broth for a light, flavorful groentesoep.

Huzarensalade
10 oz (280 grams) beef, cooked
2 large potatoes, boiled
1 small sweet onion
8 medium dill pickles
1 red apple
1 small can of peas and carrots (if you don't have leftover veg)
4 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 tablespoons dill pickle juice

For the garnish:
Boiled eggs
Mayonnaise
Cocktail onions
Tomatoes
Paprika

Cut the beef and potatoes to small dice. Chop the sweet onion and pickles. Peel the apple (or not, as you please), core it and cut it in small dice. Drain the liquid from the peas and carrots and mix everything together with the mayonnaise and the dill pickle juice. Taste and adjust if needed.

Rest the salad overnight. The next day, put the salad on a big plate, slather lightly with mayonnaise and decorate with garnish, sprinkle with the paprika. Serve it with buttered toast and a smile :-), you can now enjoy the rest of the day without anybody going hungry!

Krentjebrij

It's quite the summer in the Netherlands! Cold and rainy one day, and sunny and warm the next. It's of no surprise to the Dutch ofcourse, as often summers are a mixed bag of blessings, weatherwise. Nevertheless, no need to worry food-wise, as fresh fruit is abundantly available, and summer desserts often reflect the rich bounty of these lowlands. Strawberries, cherries and red currants preceed the rich apple and pear harvest in the fall, and neighboring countries supply any produce and fruits that the climate does not allow for.

This week's recipe is a traditional, old-fashioned dessert, made with a variety of summer berries and grains. It is a very convenient dish, given the season's fickle atmospheric conditions, as it can be served either cold or warm. The dessert is called krentjebrij, or watergruwel. Although a pleasant and filling dessert that is sometimes served as a main dish, its names do not entice one to grab a spoon and dig in. Neither name sounds appetizing, quite honestly, with the first one called a currant brij, i.e. a thick, sticky goop, and the other one named watergruwel or water revulsion....Gruwel however is an adaptation of the English word "gruel" meaning thin porridge, and not a description of aquatic abhorrence: not a practical attitude in a country that's partially below sea level!

Krentjebrij is also sold readily made in supermarket stores, in the dairy section, as one of the few non-dairy based products, under the name Bessola. When several years ago the company decided to take it off the market, as it wasn't selling as well as other desserts, a national uproar caused the company to rethink their decision.

Use a mix of fresh berries such as strawberries, red currants, raspberries and blackberries to simmer with the barley. Blend the rest of the fruit to mix in afterwards.

Krentjebrij

1/2 cup of pearl barley
1 1/2 cup of water
1 cinnamon stick
1/4 cup of raisins and currants
1 strip of lemon peel, no pith
4 cups of fresh mixed berries, chopped
1 cup of mixed berry juice
2 tablespoons of sugar


Rinse the pearl barley and bring to a boil with the 1,5 cups of water. Turn down to a simmer, add the cinnamon stick, the lemon peel, the dried fruits and a quarter cup of the fresh fruits, stir and let it simmer for forty minutes, or until the barley is soft. You may want to keep a little bit of water on the side to add, in case it needs more liquid.

When the barley is cooked (soft, with just a bit of a bite), add in the blended fruits, the sugar and add enough water to cover the barley, and simmer for another ten minutes. Taste (watch out, it's hot!), adjust the sweetness to your liking and remove the lemon peel and cinnamon stick.

Serve hot or cold. A splash of heavy cream will make this dessert even lovelier.

Wat eten we vanavond?

When I was working on a culinary project in England, studying the traditional cuisine of the country, I realized how similar the English kitchen is to ours, in many ways. The colonial influence on the cuisine, as well as the ghost of long-time-ago traveled trading routes, is palpable and palatable. Spices and dried fruits are heavily present in traditional dishes and desserts, and Jamaican Ginger Cake in many ways reminds me of peperkoek.

But it wasn't the cake that made me reflect on our Dutch kitchen. A comment from one of my coworkers last week triggered it. Someone, somewhere, had paired up the "wrong" vegetable with a particular sausage dish for one of the menus. Not being familiar with the meat dish, I asked what the traditional vegetable to serve would have been, and was told "cabbage". Looking at the menu, I pointed out that cabbage was exactly what was served. "But it's red cabbage", the answer came back. "and that's wrong. It has to be green cabbage".

I realized that, unless very familiar with a country's cuisine, building menus and pairing ingredients can be a tricky deal. Many of the culinary combinations are steeped in tradition, and all of a sudden cabbage is not cabbage anymore: it's either right or wrong for a particular dish. Would the red cabbage not have complimented the sausage dish well? It would have in any other part of the world. But when tradition dictates otherwise, it becomes an awkward accompaniment.

Think about our own cuisine. Hutspot goes with klapstuk, zuurkool goes with spekjes, spinach is traditionally served with fish. Boerenkool, kale, is accompanied by a smoked kielbasa. You wouldn't think of serving zuurvlees with anything but fries, or mashed potatoes. You'd be pushing it with steamed rice, which would be considered edible, but most certainly not traditional, and brown rice would definitely catapult you straight into the "geitenwollensokken" category, whether you wear them or not.

The question "Wat eten we vanavond?" (What's for dinner?) is, in Holland, traditionally answered with only mentioning the vegetable. If you know the vegetable, the blanks regarding protein and starch are automatically filled in. Bloemkool, cauliflower, is traditionally served with a white sauce, boiled potatoes and a gehaktbal. If the answer is zuurkool, you know it will most likely be mashed with potatoes and either rendered pieces of bacon or, if you're lucky, both bacon and a kielbasa.

But if the answer is "hussen met je neus ertussen", you are just going to have to wait and see!