Oh Norway, land of the midnight sun. This is the place to go when the world’s drudgery stifles you… when the world just… sticks to your skin. In Norway, the sky feels a million miles away. The air is crisper, cleaner. Sparkling. I spent a weekend in Stavanger, Norway in 1998, where I pitched our way to first place in our softball championship. I remember just breathing, breathing, breathing as deeply as possible. That air – I will always remember it. The fjords seemed to know what I was experiencing; these bohemouth rock walls scraped up into the sky as if they wanted to stretch into the beauty themselves – to become a part of the crystalline air. And it worked. This was a high school trip so there was also the standard curious experience. Like the odd coincidence that we arrived in late spring when the whole town (or so it seemed) was tipsy. Stumbling, bumbling, tipsy. If I remember correctly, we were told this was a standard part of graduation festivities. I do believe I …
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THE SCENE The cakes blow in the breeze. Three girls squirm under the clothesline, each watching their slice sway in front of their nose on a long piece of twine. Every once in a while an overeager child reaches out her hand and grabs for a slice, her eyes fixed on her parents guiltily. Whenever she is caught, giggles gaggle through the air. When the time for the koekhappen comes, we place our hands behind our backs and count off. One. Two. Three. Each child cranes her neck and tries to bite the cake. No one succeeds on the first try – the slices bob and weave like bumper cars. Eventually even the youngest gets a bite; the children’s cheeks glow and eyes sparkle with the success of it all. For me, the best part of this evening is sharing the fellowship of threading the cake on the line together, the anticipation and watching the joy build in everyone’s eyes, and laughing as we struggle to eat a simple piece of cake. So many times …
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If I were to make a potato salad, it would not be loaded up with mayo, nor would it be heavy as a brick. No. My picnic table would have something far more glorious: I would make this Dutch potato salad. She’s full of bright, juicy apples, smoky cubes of ham steak, sweet corn, and tiny, salty gherkin slices. She’s an entire meal, surrounded by tender lettuce, hard-boiled eggs, cucumbers, tomatoes, more gherkins, and whatever else you’d like to nibble on. Radishes? Sure. More apple slices? Absolutely. Steamed asparagus? That’s totally Dutch. Swap the ham for beef? Yes, yes. Want to eat your potato salad in a lettuce wrap? Do it with a smile! When all is said and done, and you look down at your plate, you’ll find a fairly healthy meal. This is the perfect platter for any party. I can see it at a baby shower or bridal shower luncheon. And, of course, as an easy summertime dinner. Perhaps in the company of some rabbits. Some Dutch rabbits. Or maybe just at your …
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If you often crave a dougnut but wish it could come without the bellyache, come with me to the Netherlands for breakfast. The quickest way there is with hagelslag, or a “hailstorm” of sprinkles, on buttered bread (no need to toast it). While it sounds incredibly unhealthy, dutch sprinkles are high quality treats and there’s even guidelines for what can be called hagelslag. Most are at least 35% cocoa with 100% cocoa butter (this means there are no weird fillers, like vegetable oil, as you’ll find in cheap sprinkles). For those of you more than an arm’s throw away from the Netherlands, any good quality sprinkles will do the job. For those who can’t stand it and wish to try the real thing, a quick search for hagelslag will get you what you need – there’s all sorts from white chocolate, to dark, and from anise flavor, to even berry. Tip: Next time you visit a friend, put a variety of sprinkles in a basket with a loaf of homemade bread and good quality European butter, and …
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This spice cake creates so much joy, it should come with trumpets and streamers. Cake on a rope. So simple, and yet so brilliant. Every child will tell you: this is the stuff dreams are made of. All over the Netherlands, the Dutch nibble on swaying ropes of cake in honor of the Queen’s birthday. No hands allowed. This wildly popular event is called a koekhappen. Weather permitting, many lucky children enjoy a koekhappen on their birthday as well. One of our readers, Sylvia, told me a bit more about the Koekhappen: Koekhappen is a great game for kids. A birthday game, but an old-fashioned game as well that is done everywhere in Holland on Queen’s Day. The Royal family usually visits a specific few towns/villages in a certain region on Queen’s Day alternating them every year and celebrate the Queen’s Birthday. It’s still a day of many traditional games, singing and showing (local) talents. Certainly do this ‘koekhappen’ with Ava. Go for it and enjoy! Here’s Ava, desperately trying not to eat the cake before I …
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This week’s menu is a compromise between Dutch taste and the inferno I’m currently living in. That’s right – it’s here: 105F degrees in the shade. This is the weather that requires me to be doing one of two things: swimming or hiding out in the air conditioning. I’m a little surprised 105F has joined us in June, but that’s what’s happening. And we’re all sweaty. While I couldn’t serve ice on ice (although I was tempted), I found a summery-festive collection of dishes to try. They’re simple and sweet, so you can spend more time laughing with friends. What sounds good to you?* Dutch Potato Salad | Huzarensalade [Recipe] This is not your grandmother’s potato salad. Unless, of course, she’s Dutch. In all seriousness, this salad is an entire meal. She’s not only loaded up with sweet corn, salty gherkins, tart apples, smoky ham, and fresh parsley – she’s also surrounded with an assortment of salad items like cucumber, carrot, tomato, lettuce, and hard-boiled egg. Dutch Spice Cake on a Rope | Ontbijtkoek [Recipe] A much beloved …
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If you like windmills, green pastures, unusual architecture, a dollop of Indonesian culture, and being way, way below sea level, then our week at the Dutch Global Table is for you. But first, let’s start with the basics. We have lots of names to keep track of. The country goes by the Netherlands and Holland (Holland being reserved for when her territories are also being referred to). Regardless, her people are called the Dutch and 25% of their land is below sea level and twice that no more than 1 foot above sea level, giving the country yet one more name: “The Low Country.” It’s funny to be spending a week on the food of Netherlands during 101F days, since this isn’t really her element. In fact, there’s a wintery-crunchy-leaves-snowy-skies sort of feel to the place which is reflected in the food. Most Dutch food is hearty and homey – sausages, potatoes, soups, stewed meat (hachee), and thick brown gravies. They are known for a fantastic potato salad, loaded up with all manner of goodness …
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I’m at the grocery store, eyeing shelf upon shelf of neatly stacked packages of noodles. There are about 25 brands – each boasting some variation of regular, whole wheat, gluten-free, or loaded-with-spinach pasta. Three feet over there’s another 5 brands sitting pretty in the chiller. These are the fresh pastas. The ones that taste like you made them yourself. The ones that cost $10 for two servings. Hello. I feel my anxiety mounting. Deep breath. It’s just pasta. It’s just pasta. How difficult can it be? But it is difficult. So. many. choices. And yet, between these 30 brands of pasta, I cannot find anything labeled buckwheat – the noodles I need for my Montenegrin Global Table. I inquire and a kind grocery clerk leads me over to the international aisle, where I find another 15 brands of pasta. Rice noodles and squiggly ramen fill most of the shelves. The clerk gestures on the bottom row, just by my ankle. There it is – three brands of buckwheat noodles. The clerk casually adds that there …
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It only seems natural that we eat something black during our week at the Black Mountain (a.k.a Montenegro). But here’s the thing – nothing in life is black and white. There are all sorts of shades of gray (that’s where the beauty is – somewhere in the muddled middle). So, in the spirit of variety, we’re adding a few shades of gray to our pasta. We’ve got black pepper, white feta, and charcoal grey buckwheat noodles with a bit of sparkle from pools of golden olive oil. This is simple as can be and a fantastic chilled pasta salad for a hot summer’s day. And did I mention? It’s also gluten-free. You can buy buckwheat noodles (a.k.a. soba noodles) or make them yourself for a fun afternoon project. I tried this both ways and, while I loved the satisfaction of making the noodles myself, I also loved the easy, breezy simplicity of popping open a package of pre-made buckwheat noodles and having dinner on the table less than ten minutes later. NOTE: You can find buckwheat/soba noodles …
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You don’t have to know how to pronounce it to enjoy eating it. Pljeskavica. If this long, meandering string of letters makes you stutter, just clap your hands, because that’s what Pljeskavica means – the sound of hands clapping as the “Balkan burger” patties are formed. And this is not just a big word. This is big food. This is the original “super-size.” Not only are the patties large enough to cover a small plate, they contain as many as 6 cuts of meat from three different animals. Everyone has their variation and you’ll typically find beef, lamb, and pork (for non-Muslims) in every bite. The entire animal is fair game. You can’t help but smile as your mouth stretches open with every bite. While each region (country, town, family, person!) has their own variation, most chow down on pljeskavica with a knife and fork. More recently, tucking the patty inside lepina, or thick pita bread with onion and tomato, is gaining popularity. Either way, don’t forget to slather each bite with roasted ajvar spread! For …
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Some days I dream about reinventing myself – pulling myself up, out of the ordinary into the wildly wonderful. On these ornery-sorts-of-days, I imagine myself strutting around in a bold color I’ve never worn before, like mustard yellow. On really good days I actually make these dreams happen. I become a mustard-wearing queen. Other days I just end up wearing mustard. Literally. That’s the way life goes: sometimes change works, sometimes it doesn’t. The fun is in the trying. Are you willing to reinvent yourself – even just a little? What about your eating habits? Today, in the spirit of trying something new, we’re going to reinvent our ketchup eating habits. Here’s how it’s going to work: instead of slathering our food with globs and globs of ketchup, we’re going to be bold, sassy, and totally Balkan. We’re going to slather it in Ajvar. Ajvar is a pepper spread popular all over the Balkans. Typically made with fresh, roasted paprika peppers and (sometimes) eggplant, the bright garden flavor goes great with all manner of meat, especially burgers. The versatile …
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I might be a little ahead of myself this week. I can’t help it. People have been asking me when the pools open. Women are wearing sun dresses and sunglasses. On Sunday Ava said “my head is crying,” with a look of astonishment, as beads of sweat dripped down her head after a good play session. You see, way back in April the weather spiked straight up, into the 80s and 90s. It might be May, but we might as well be in the heart of summer. I’m ready to kick off my shoes, run through the sprinkler, and eat a summery meal outside, in the sunshine. Good news. This week’s menu can make that happen. The great thing about being at the Montenegrin Global Table during this heat wave is how much of the food can be made on the grill. How much can be enjoyed in the great outdoors. In fact, two of our dishes are grilled and the other is happily served chilled. That’s summer eatin’ if you ask me. So slide up your chair …
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