Living with the Dutchman brings me into contact with a lot of Dutch cuisine, not all of it wonderful. There is also quite a lot of wistful remembrance and licking of lips at the thought of long-lost favourite foods. Not to mention those associated with particular Dutch holidays and festivals.
Strangely enough, apart from my Dutch neighbours Terry (a trained chef) and Tina (a capable woman), no one seems able or willing to produce any of this food on feast days. This is a bit of a shame since the baked goods at least are quite nice. One of the first, indeed one of the only Dutch words I know is, “lekker”. What Johan offers instead is the mass manufactured version of baking, which comes from the Dutch shop at Henderson or the one at Orewa. The ladies there know Johan by name, and have his repeat orders recorded in a little notebook.
But now I am ahead of the game. I have discovered and joined a FaceBook group called Dutch Recipes in English. Those of Dutch descent living in the USA, Canada, Australia, and even NZ, nostalgic for half-remembered tastes of home, ask for the obscure recipes their grandmothers used to make. Never mind that many of these recipes date from the famine of WWII or its aftermath and feature the most basic of ingredients. Or that others of more fulsome flavour are stolen from far flung former Dutch colonies. If you ask for it – even if you cannot remember or properly spell the name – someone will provide the recipe.
Now I am fully armed. I refuse to cook the sausage and mash-ups, or the dishes that feature canned kale or brown beans, but I can bake. I have been baking since I was a toddler when my grandmother set me up on the kitchen bench and taught me to cream butter and sugar by hand.
Case in point. See the photo. Perfect fresh krentenbollen. Johan ate two with his lunch and admitted they were the real thing.
Challenge on!