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.