A Nether Ending Story

First NYE in my new country

New Year’s Eve in The Netherlands. I’m not sure how to tackle explaining this night, because if I were in America I would just grab friends by the shoulders and scream “The fireworks! Jesus H. Christ, the fireworks!” with a terrified glint in my eye. To say fireworks are enjoyed in this country is a gross understatement yet I can’t seem to find an overstatement fitting enough. Dutch folk spent around 65 million euros (about $100 million) on fireworks this past year, according to recent estimates. That may not sound crazy until you consider the size of this country relative to America and the fact that they can only legally buy fireworks during the three days before New Year’s. And apparently that number is quite low compared to previous years. 

Dutch folk aren’t buying just buying sparklers - they go for the big guns, arrows exploding in the sky, powerful firecrackers (which shake apartment buildings when tossed into sewage lines), and other things you wouldn’t want near your hands. I went for a run the morning of New Year’s Eve and ran into quite a few tweens on the bikes with bags from the pop-up firework shops over their shoulders. Some even stopped before they got home to let off a few bangs and pows along the canals - they couldn’t wait. Fireworks have been going off all week, no matter day or night, but the worst was New Year’s Eve when the kids were up before the sun begging parents to let them set fire to explosives in the parking lot. So much for sleeping in! Despite some bad hip-hop on my iPod, my run was peppered with near and distant explosions while I inhaled sulfuric smoke from mortars and rockets. The cows I jog past didn’t seem to care, though the ducks were absent from their usual spot along my route. And this was all before 10 a.m. The evening’s display was something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convey other than to say it’s most likely similar to what Baghdad residents experienced during the shock and awe of March 2003 without the purposeless death and destruction. The fireworks went off non-stop, all around the city. Breda seemed like a bad nightclub, with colorful blinking lights from fireworks against the smoke-filled sky. I couldn’t help but wile out with our friends at the party since being surrounded by heart-shaking explosions just makes one want to run around a bit and scream, taking care not to spill the champagne. 

A more adorable experience happened after the clock struck midnight. Never have I been around folks counting down in a different language and while it’s obvious they wouldn’t count down in English, it was one of those moments that remind you that you’re in a different place - far from home. In America when the ball drops we pop the bubbly and yell “Happy New Year!” and get back to drinking and dancing. Here in The Netherlands people take a moment to congratulate each person in the room with a handshake and/or the obligatory (and overkill) three kisses. I’m serious - every single person. I stood around watching in awe as the nearly 25 people in this tiny apartment bumbled about the living room saying “gelukkig nieuw jaar.” Dutch people complain that Americans our over-polite and insincere and I say Dutch people can be just as much so with their bourgeois kisses, but in this moment I felt a real sense of hope and congratulations among this group of 20-somethings. There’s always a hopeful feeling at the beginning of a new year and once my head cleared from that inevitable champagne headache, I felt it too. 

VeganMoFo Day 10: Love your local markets

I go through bouts of homesickness, but even in the darkest of moments I know two things that will keep me here: Thomas, of course, and the amazing selection of open-air markets in The Netherlands. 

These aren’t your typical farm markets as most stalls sell all sorts of fruits and veggies from near and far. A few sell more exotic items to cater to various populations in the country (cactus fig, anyone?), but all are like the best produce section of your favorite grocery store. But even fresher. 

I have a soft spot in my heart for the market in Breda because it was a comfortable place to visit in my new country where I was feeling decidedly uncomfortable, especially in the early months. Even as a foreigner I could walk into the market and see things I knew even if they had names like wortel (carrot) or aardbeien (strawberries). I beefed up my vocabulary and could get lost among the swarms of people. I was afraid to communicate at that point because I didn’t know the language at all, but the wonderful thing about the market is it has its own universal gestures and bits of body language and in the end all you have to do is pass the stall worker a few euros and you’re on your way. No awkward moments at a cash register with a line of people behind you waiting for your bumbling, immigrant self to get out of the way. Here you could disappear. 

I quickly learned to go where the old Turkish ladies are congregating and that’s where I found my favorite stall. I rarely buy from any stall other than this one (unless I’m visiting my beloved mushroom man) because the food is so damn cheap. I don’t care that you practically have to climb over people to get your order to the workers. It’s worth it. For example, a bag of six or seven paprikas (bell peppers) is one euro. One euro! I was sold from that moment on. It’s hard to beat that, especially when you come from a country where stores try to charge $1.50 a pound for one pepper. Other gems? Lemons and limes, five for a euro. Three kilos of delicious, Spanish oranges (this was over 10 oranges) - 3 euro. I could go on, but the lesson here is if you have food markets you should be shopping at them. And if you live somewhere with markets that focus only on local produce, even better. The markets in Breda aren’t strictly local, but when produce can come from Holland it does. For example, strawberries in the summer were from a patch right near my apartment. And the potatoes I’ve been cooking lately came from Friesland. Our markets also have stalls selling nuts and dried fruit, bread, and mushrooms. 

Some tips for visiting open-air and farm markets:

1. Bring your own bags. This may be a no-brainer, but in Breda I practically have to force my chico bags on the stall workers when they weigh my produce. They refuse to weigh it in the chico bag and will only weigh it in a plastic bag. I’ve yet to come home from the market without a plastic bag, but I have been reusing them to wrap around things like green onions, parsley, and mint. 

2. If it’s your first time to a market and you’re not sure of the selection, take some time to walk around and gauge the prices. My first time to one of the markets I went to the first stall, which had the premium spot on the corner. I realized after venturing deeper into the market that they also carried the premium prices. Lesson learned. 

3. If you’re on a tight budget, try to stick to a list (preferably one you culled from your meal planning). I know the joy of hitting the market is going without a plan and just picking up what inspires you, but sometimes this can end up with you spending too much money on an item you know nothing about. If you still want to experiment without breaking the bank and your budget allows it, try going into the market with your list and giving yourself a set amount of cash to spend on something new. And only try a little bit of it. The worst is ending up with a whole kilo of something you just don’t like. If it changes your life, you can go back next week and get a bunch more. Saving money, even at the market, is an exercise in restraint.

4. If you do go to the market without a plan, at the very least come home and make a plan for the foods you bought on a whim. The worst thing is letting food go bad, so make a plan for it and don’t waste anything. 

5. Keep an eye out for market-gouging. Mostly all of the produce I’ve found at my favorite stall is cheaper than in the supermarkets, but not always. I’ve been wanting to do a price book, but haven’t really gotten around to it. One thing I have noticed though is that as charming as the stall that sells dried fruit and nuts is, they’re selling that stuff for nearly double the amount I would pay at the Turkish grocery I visit. You can’t trick me, dry goods man!

6. Keep an eye out for adorable market people you want to visit every week - the market is full of characters! Our mushroom man is a complete curmudgeon with a few teeth that barely grunts when we ask for our oyster mushrooms or creminis, but we love him all the same. 

This post is part of VeganMoFo - the Vegan Month of Food. Learn more about it by checking out VeganMoFo Headquarters where you can subscribe to a bunch of vegan blogs and drool over delicious and cruelty-free food.

VeganMoFo Day 9: The Dutch <3 kale

So often I find myself focusing on the things I don’t have over here - the comforts, particularly when it comes to food and cooking, of home in America. Sure, the United States has a much larger selection of everything cooking and food related than here in The Netherlands. However, it’s worth it sometimes to take a step back and appreciate what you have in a new place - something to which home can’t hold a candle. Enter boerenkool (that’s kale in Dutch).

Not just any kale, but pre-washed, chopped, and bagged kale. Yeah, you heard me. No longer will I slave over a sink full of kale that I’ve ripped from its stems, waiting for the dust and dirt to settle before having to shake it of its water. It wasn’t all that hard to do, really, but I’m not complaining. If the Dutch want to chop my kale for me, who am I to say no?

Only downside of this, of course, is that it goes bad much faster than kale on the leaf. But so what? Eat your kale sooner.  

I’m just doing a quick blog post today because I need to hunker down and study my Dutch. I realized in going to my class last night that missing one week has really left me feeling like I’m swimming in this new language. If you have any tips on how you study to learn a new language, I would greatly appreciate it!

This post is part of VeganMoFo - the Vegan Month of Food. Learn more about it by checking out VeganMoFo Headquarters where you can subscribe to a bunch of vegan blogs and drool over delicious and cruelty-free food.

VeganMoFo Day 2: Cooking in a new country

When I moved to The Netherlands in July there were a lot of things I was warned I wouldn’t be able to find easily - baking soda, black beans, luxury items like vegan mayo and cheese. I’ve been able to find all of those things and without a great deal of searching, but there have been some surprises along the way as I’ve tried to find my cooking groove in this new place. 

The wonderful thing about The Netherlands, I’ve found, is that they value cooking at home a great deal (at least this is the case with the Nederlanders I’ve come in contact with). I’ve also seen more people snacking on the go than eating fast food. For example, I’ve seen girls eating sandwiches from home-wrapped foil packages while riding bikes, or guys pulling apples from their backpacks (also while biking). McDonald’s and KFC still have a market here and I’ve definitely seen people with Happy Meals, but for the most part people understand the value (financially maybe more than nutritionally) of packing food at home and taking the time to cook dinner. 

My partner has to commute pretty far to and from work, so he welcomed someone with a lot of time on her hands (still waiting on my residency permit) cooking meals each night. But for the first few weeks I had to get my pantry going - a basis for all the cooking I knew I’d be doing. If you’re interested in organizing your kitchen and stocking  a pantry that’s conducive to cooking, check out The Kitchen Cure going on at Apartment Therapy’s Kitchn blog. Lots of great ideas over there. 

My answer to stocking the pantry is the same answer I had in America - ethnic markets. In America I often visited Asian markets and a nearby Indian market. Here in the Netherlands its Asian markets and Turkish markets. I’ve been able to find silken tofu, locally-made tempeh and sambals (there’s a large Indonesian population here), various frozen dumplings, black beans, miso, silken tofu, dried beans, raw cashews, etc., all for cheaper prices than you would find in the grocery store if you could even find this stuff there. The Netherlands, probably due to space constraints, opts for smaller grocery stores than the big boxes I’m used to in America. This means you may end up hitting a few grocery stores trying to find an item (canned artichokes, for example) or just giving up altogether. For me, the Asian and Turkish markets have really filled in the blanks in my pantry and made me feel more at home here. 

This is a photo from the shelf closest to my cooking area. I keep all of my go-to items for food prep, like oils, vinegars, sauces, and syrups, right here within arm’s reach. 

There are health food stores where you can get teeny, tiny, pricey jars of egg-free mayonaise, but for the most part we do our dry/pantry shopping at ethnic markets and the grocery store and get everything fresh at the weekly markets (a post I’ll save for another day). The only thing I get at the health food store is a vegan margarine. It was a tearful goodbye between me and Earth Balance this summer, but I’ve found a decent substitute. 

Spices are expensive and I had a great spice collection going on at home, so I vacuum packed and shipped them all. I’m working on a DIY spice storage system that I hope to finish during VeganMoFo. 

I’ll save my pantry must-haves for another post, but I’m curious to hear how other people managed cooking when moving to a new country. It was a serious learning curve for me and while I have the ingredients taken care of, I’m not battling the constraints of a tiny European kitchen (see: no real oven). 

This post is part of VeganMoFo - the Vegan Month of Food. Learn more about it by checking out VeganMoFo Headquarters where you can subscribe to a bunch of vegan blogs and drool over delicious and cruelty-free food.