Showing posts with label Herring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Herring. Show all posts

22.10.14

you for my mom.

If you don't like smoked fish, you're going to say eww gross, but two things: 1) grow up and 2) you might like smoked herring. I probably need to make a distinction between canned smoked herring, which I've never tried, and what I'm using, which I just spent an awful lot of time describing and then just realized that I should take a picture tomorrow when it's light out. Basically it's not canned, it's dry and sealed in plastic.

Anyway, it's less fishy than smoked mackerel, and just kind of "different" than smoked salmon, milder. I was happy to see it at the Dirk the other day since they haven't had it in forever (is it seasonal maybe? that would make sense), and it's cheap, I think I paid €2.50 for 3 fillets. But then you get it home and if the weather outside is frightful, like winter tornado weather, and you're not in the mood for a cold preparation, well what's a brother to do. 

So I set to Googlin, and turned up this from the NY Times. I was not super enthusiastic about the idea, but I did have most of the ingredients, and then I imagined a runny egg on top and that sounded good, so I did it, and really thought it was great. I would never have guessed what the slight difference in the dressing was, sorry this is such shitty writing, my blood sugar is still low, but I'm jotting this down before I forget the details.

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smoked herring caesar salad.

3 tablespoons smoked herring, finely chopped
1/4 cup red-wine vinegar
1 clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1/3 cup Parmesan, grated (plus more for finishing)
1 tsp good Dijon mustard
1 tbsp mayonnaise
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
some amount of extra-virgin olive oil

1 cup of toasted almonds, possibly halved
2 tbsp butter
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves

1 or 2 eggs, ready to be prepared in a way of your choosing, I chose over easy.

1 head romaine lettuce, roughly cut, well rinsed and dried.

This is really the only important instruction: in a small saucepan over medium heat, combine smoked herring with just enough red-wine vinegar to cover it barely; heat until it begins to simmer. Remove from heat immediately, scrape into a small bowl and allow to cool.

In a food processor, combine the herring and vinegar, the garlic, cheese, mustard, mayo, Worcestershire sauce and pepper. Process. Once it's fine-ish, add olive oil and process til you git to yr desired consistency.  

Melt the butter in a little saucepan, add the almonds and thyme, toss to coat, and set aside. 

In a large bowl, toss the lettuce and the almonds with enough dressing to cover the romaine as a sauce would pasta. Quickly cook your egg and throw on top. Place salad in serving bowl, top with an egg, and (according to the original recipe) "grate so much Parmesan over the top that the salad looks like a heavily snowcapped mountain." Serves 2 or more. Adapted from Hugue Dufour, M. Wells, Queens.

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22.10.13

ignoramus.


















Looks like a beautiful day, no? Sure does. A perfect day for a nice, relaxing stroll on the deserted urban playground of Java-eiland. To visit our accountant's office. For which I have an incorrect street number lodged in my memory. Very incorrect.

Just before I left the house I'd "brilliantly" remembered that our accountant had recently relocated out of the center and onto Java-eiland. I mentally high-fived myself, quickly glanced at their website for the new address and "committed it to memory".

Took the tram to Java-eiland, and started my carefree stroll. What a beautiful day. Hmm. Accountant not at "the address". In fact, there are no businesses at that address. Hmm. Actually, heyyyyy...there are no people around at all really.

In fact, not owning a smartphone and not even having my dumb old clamshell cellphone with me (I don't use it much, cause, well...it's not good for much), there is absolutely zero way for a person like myself to figure out the exact address of something that he only knows the name and approximate location of. Phone booths/books don't exist anymore, do they. I walked the length of the island twice, peering intently at every nest of doorbells on every building.

Grrr. Would I reaaaallllly have to travel back to the mainland (OK, ten minutes tops, but), find an internet cafe (ten more minutes, best case), look up the address (etc), and come back? Pbbblleh. I was back in 1995. Sighing deeply, I decided that rather than "giving up" and trying to find a computer, I would instead circle the island repeatedly, flitting from building to building in an increasing panic/frustration, while mentally calling myself many many bad names. I'm afraid that sometimes my lips even moved in a very homeless/psychotic looking way. Good thing there were no people around.

I just didn't believe I was so wrong. I thought the address was 264. I was willing to be as wrong as 642, but nothing over 1000, that's a whole extra digit. I was ready to give up. As an absolute last resort, I rummaged around in the thick sheaf of papers I had with me, which normally would have zero reason to contain our accountant's address.

Except: my wonderful business partner had amazingly updated our standard cover letter with the new address (wtf): 1537. Which, in addition to containing exactly none of the numbers I'd "remembered", was now all the way at the opposite end of the island, the absolute last, final building on the waterfront street, the building about which you'd say to yourself, as I had: well I looked at all the other 1536 addresses, it CAN'T possibly be that one.

I knowwwwwwwwwwwwww, at least I had good weather. And I got a solid two-hour walk out of it, some of it at impressive speeds once the panic set in. Nonetheless, small consolations were necessary once back in the city proper.








12.12.12

salty swift.

 

Yeah, not much writing going on here, I'm doing other stuff. One of the things I'm doing, though, is planning a couple of menus and testing out a couple of dishes. Above is something I love very much but for some reason I'm afraid to serve to people: inlagd sill is Swedish for marinated herring, and that's what we have here.

One thing I loved about the Swedish version of pickled herring is that there were so many different options spice-wise. For this little bite, I've narrowed it down to something called matjes sill with potato, creme fraiche, chives, and mild bleak roe caviar. There's another version that replaces the potato with beet and switches the herring to the standard allspice-heavy version. It's a great, superrefreshing bite of food, but I have to try it out on someone before I serve to multiple people.

Something else I'm really enjoying lately is tartare aux algues, a French condiment made from seaweed, capers, and olive oil. I got it from Mustapha, our Moroccan guy downstairs, it's really unusual and, again, super fresh and healthy tasting. It's supposed to be eaten on bread with butter, but I've just been dipping potatoes in it and enjoying that. Supposedly the French mix it with canned tuna for a variation on tuna salad, I could totally see that working (mm, apparently this is a new fad in cat food as well...).

Lastly, I'm going to try another adventurous salted fish thing recipe tonight, turnip mash with anchovies and walnuts. Could be freaky as shit, but it could also be something like Jamie's pangrattato, which is the opposite of freaky.

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29.5.12

little smokie.

















Above photo by Carl Heller, used without permission, please let me know if I should cease and/or desist. Or do something more in the spirit of Fluxus, maybe play a flute solo from inside the vagina of a living sperm whale. Just holla is what I'm saying.

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When I was little, my dad worked for Oscar Mayer. In addition to the roof over our heads, there were two primary benefits to this situation: 1) we had a large box full of toddler-sized inflatable hot dogs just sitting around the house waiting to be used for hilarious things. 2) the fridge was always stocked with smoked meat.

I wish I had access to our family's photo archive at the moment, oh the candid shots with inflatable wieners I could show you.

What made me think about all of this was remembering how excited I would get when he would bring home a package of Little Smokies:

















They were these, um, pinky-sized sausages, sorry, made from turkey, chicken, and pork, and they were like candy to me. Given a choice between a Hershey's Kiss and a Little Smokie, there was no choice. There was only Little Smokie. Once I knew they were in the fridge it became difficult to think about anything else.

I seem to even remember an experimental batch from the test kitchens. They were filled with liquid processed cheddar cheese goo. Straight from the microwave? I probably don't need to tell you how good this was.

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The whole point of this story originally had to do with the smoked herring that is currently in my current fridge. I like smoked things. I like smoke, frankly. And I like herring. But for some reason I've been unable to bring myself to eat this smoked herring I've been buying. This is the third time I've bought it in the last 6 weeks and I have yet to successfully eat it before it expires (why is something smoked expiring so quickly? Good question, and I don't know the answer).

It's not like it's expensive, two euro or something, but still, you start to feel even stupider than usual after the second time you've stood sighing over the garbage can, closing the lid on an untouched piece of fish. Respect your protein and all that.

So yesterday was third time's the charm and all that shit. Tonight I managed to open the package and assemble something with it. Initial indications are that it's right in my wheelhouse if that's even a saying. This attempts to also use up the other homemade pickles that are lounging around in the fridge.

Were I to serve this to someone else I would probably add another hard-boiled egg and another tbsp of mayo. And some black pepper.

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sillsalad (smoked herring salad with caraway).

1 smoked herring filet, skinned and diced
1 granny smith apple, diced
1 pickled beet, skinned and diced
1/2 a pickled cucumber, diced
2 hard-boiled eggs, diced
1 scallion, diced
2 tbsp mayonnaise
1/4 tsp caraway seeds

Assemble, refrigerate overnight, eat. Brush teeth.

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14.2.12

ok ok ok.

Day Six? OK, how does this work again, blogging and recipe hunting without the internet? Oh yeah it doesn't, I guess that's the point. But what about my fucking herring?

You may address me as Petulant Knob. I must say, I've started this day out right: two cups of Earl Grey and Momofuku's steak with kimchi and ginger scallion sauce (one benefit of not planning to see another human today is the ability to destroy one's breath first thing in the morning). Breakfast of champeens. Now I go look for that herring for 5 minutes, hear me? FIVE MINUTES. OK, ten.

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(57 minutes later)

OK, I did some other work stuff too! And rescued a piece of dental floss that Jo3n was trying to swallow. And I spent some time generally de-ruffling some kitty feathers. In between, I found a nice little old-school page of pretty accurate-looking Swedish things (actual recipe text: "Clean head and singe off hair. Cut off ears and clean teeth with stiff brush. Remove brain." I should reaaaally stop eating meat), including my "spicy pickled herring" I was looking for. Unfortunately the recipe is for 40 herring filets: I have 5 (no problem, divide by 8, I know, I know, but what's 1/8 of a tablespoon?).

I found something else that kind of describes it, the ingredients are: herring, brown sugar, red onion, orange peel, vinegar, allspice, cinnamon, clove, black cumin (which may actually be caraway...the cumin/caraway confusion is rampant in Scandinavia).

This also looked good to me. Now I unplug router. See you later!

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böcklingbollar.

4 small smoked herring
2 hard-boiled eggs, chopped
1/2 tbsp butter
salt
pepper
2 tbsp butter
handful of chives, minced

Clean and fillet herring. Chop finely and mix with eggs and butter. Season with salt and pepper and form mixture into small balls. Fry golden brown in butter and garnish with chopped chives.

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13.2.12

trouble herring.

Hmph. Today's my first day of trying to strictly limit my computer time, and I must say...it kind of sucks. I should say "internet time" instead of "computer time", b/c really, a computer with no internet is pretty much a workstation. Tomorrow I'm taking the hardcore step of unplugging my router after an hour of work at breakfast.

It's just that, OK, let's say I'm making music. I record on a laptop, b/c it's stupid not to. However, as soon as I get an idea that requires something not on my machine, or I have a technical problem that I want to check the forums for, etc....I'm back on the net. So tomorrow I pretend there's no net.

I'm like a fucking five year old.

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A five year old who loves herring!!!

Maybe love is a bit strong, but I do really like it in most forms. One of my favorite forms, however, is this Swedish shit I had this summer, marinated in cloves and allspice and vinegar and a little sugar. For the briefest moment today I had a fantasy of going to Ikea to get some, and then I realized that this is not really the kind of productivity I had in mind.

So when I feel like I deserve some more computer time I'll find a recipe.

FROWN
FROWN
FROWN

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7.2.12

bok bok b-bokking.


















This is bokking: smoked herring that's been fried, basically the same thing as what the British would call a kipper. Fried. It's very cheap, €1.35 per piece like the one above, and if you like herring, or sardines, or any omega-rich healthy small fish, this is worth looking at.

I got mine from Viscenter Volendam on the Kinkerstraat, which I find to be a pretty fair and interesting fishmonger with the broadest selection of both prepared and raw seafood on my side of town. They could be slightly better about carrying and/or letting you know which fish are MSC (responsibly fished), but for example this bokking was advertised as "MSC bokking".

I'm filing this under "Amsterdam Eating" because for me a trip to Viscenter Volendam would be and always has been an interesting and informative lunch that is very Dutch and not touristy at all. And probably less than 4 euro per person whether you get a fried something or a sandwich. Plus you're right at Ten Katemarkt (general market needs) and Suriya Food (decent Surinamese sandwiches) and a couple of new Turkish bakeries with good-looking lunch options (a few doors east of Viscenter Volendam). And there's a newish bar over there that I like called Bax (Ten Katestraat 119).

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27.8.11

counter-clockwise.















UPDATE: Pushed to the top due to new photos and text.

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Once again I find myself writing about a vacation in retrospect, which I guess is good because it means I was so busy vacationizing that I didn't have computer time/access. I mean I'm actually too busy at this very moment to be blogging, but I wrote most of this post in the Stockholm airport a few days ago, so I'm just adding photos now. Chronology out of joint, yo.

Retrospectivizing: on the other hand, as I think I've said, writing in retrospect be's difficult because your fresh and vital first impressions are not nearly as fresh and vital ten days later, and so every missed day's post is coming from the same, quickly solidifying post-vacation perspective, etc etc etc.

But yeah, what can we do about that now, nothing, I guess we forge ahead.

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The post-vacation me wants to talk about Sweden first. This being my worst-researched vacation ever, I really didn't know what to expect, physically (in terms of the landscape), culturally, etc.

It's nothing like visiting Italy, which you've seen in books and movies and travel shows for so long that when you finally go there you're barely surprised by anything except how much "more so" everything is than what it was depicted as.

And I guess that's why my primary impression of Sweden is one of quiet surprise: it's a completely beautiful country full of seemingly endless forests and lakes and hilly farmland, and very few people. And the light. Light like this makes anything/everything look better.

If there's anything bad to say here, it's that it's kind of monotonously beautiful, although I covered only a tiny portion of the northeastern coast, and you could probably say the same thing about many northeastern coasts around the world. But as I was driving this weekend, I tried to imagine the whole thing covered in a foot or two of snow for six months at a time and, yeah, I can't say that the abnormally high Swedish suicide rate didn't cross my mind.

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My quiet surprise completely extended to the food. I ate much, much better here than during my two-week-long wander through France a couple years ago, and nearly as well as we ate in Sardinia last year. I mean, on the page/screen, the food might not radiate excitement, but seriously, everything (with the exception of one cup of gas station coffee and a couple of pastries here and there) was very carefully prepared, perfectly seasoned, and fresh, fresh, fresh.

Admittedly, I was kind of in the palm of their hand: the food here is based on things I like. Fish, game, sausage, and liquor. But to be traveling in a foreign country unresearched and not have a bad meal is definitely noteworthy. Thinking back, some of the credit for this must go to Britt, who made 2 or 3 totally impressive dinners at home, and was constantly (quietly), off-handedly filling the fridge with a stream of preserved fish and fruit.

In kind of an Italian or French way, the quality of the ingredients pushed everything in the direction of absolute goodness. We had herring served a number of ways with potatoes, just herring out of a jar, sounds unpromising, but it's all quite a bit more subtle and complex than the marinated herring we see here in Amsterdam. These dishes were all really simple and unexpectedly delicious, and not nearly as fishy as they sound, especially the ones with caviar, which was mild, cold, refreshing, and difficult to stop eating, my favorite caviar ever.

Below: two of the many herring varieties sold by Abba (not the band); herring in dill cream and herring roe sauce with roasted potatoes; petite herring in a clove, allspice, and sugar marinade (ansjovis means sprat, not the anchovies we know) with red onions, sour cream, and mashed potatoes on knackebrod; bleak roe caviar and butter on knackebrod.




















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6.8.11

sätta på myggen.

















My laptop's battery is acting all funny, so I have to write quick, which means writing worse than usual.

Some quick impressions. After five minutes of being on the flight to Stockholm, I was confronted with the fact that Svenska, or perhaps more realistically the accumulation of Nordic languages that were being spoken on this flight at this moment, is/are beautiful. As languages go. I mean, I think english is beautiful in its expressiveness, but maybe not in its sonic properties. Swedish, or Norsk, or Dansk, or whatever....just sounds like a song. Before we took off, it sounded like the whole front of the plane was calmly singing 45 or 55 different lullaby-like songs to each other.

And then the stewardess came on the intercom and the illusion was a bit shattered...her highs and lows were shaved off in the interest of businesslikeness, but still...entertaining as far as ununderstandable languages go.

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Part two: my in-flight meal. No pictures this time, I was in an aisle seat, but I'll try to rectify this on the way back. It was probably the best in-flight meal I've ever had, and this has everything to do with my taste. I ordered the "Danish Selection Plate", which was designed to be a DIY smørrebrød. So you got: rye bread; nicely spiced roast beef; a meatball of sorts, some pate; some herring in mustard sauce; a gherkin; butter; and of course a hard-boiled egg. And you made your own bites. Thoroughly enjoyable.

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Part three: Stockholm airport (Arlanda). The most deserted friday night airport I've ever seen. It might be worth mentioning at this point that I used to be a relatively serious flyer. No million miler or anything, but I was definitely some kind of level named after a precious metal (platinum, gold, etc) and I was for sure one of those annoying fucks who got to board before everyone else, and, if the occasion warranted it, I got to, er, demand things, like upgrading me to first class.

Of course, you know me (ha), I never did that, but people to whom I was professionally bound did this all the time and yes I possibly went along with it if we were traveling together (I was young! They were my bosses!). I could rationalize it at the time.

Anyway, it was nice at the time, before I realized what it meant. Those days of flying are probably gone now, I don't know since I don't fly professionally anymore. The point of all this is: I've seen a lot of airports. And this one is deserted as fuck on a Friday. Compared to like Atlanta.

















I also feel compelled to mention: this is the only airport I've ever been to with lots and lots of flies. Foreshadowing?

















This was my beer. 69 SEK. Tasty. And this is where I finally am now.

















More soon.

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11.8.10

nothing to report.














€4.50 train to beach, €2 herring, the usual budget-minded half-asceticism. Still dieting. Etc.

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I did finally have a chocolate breakdown last night. I just had to do it so I could stop thinking about it. So I bought a Lovechock bar for the first time, because they're "healthy": raw cocoa nibs, buckwheat, sea salt and agave syrup, etc. They're also shockingly expensive, which is I why I've never bought one before: €3.00 for 40 grams of chocolate.

Hard to tell if they need to be that expensive or not. How did it taste? Well, considering that I haven't had any sugar or chocolate-related things for about 3 weeks now (I did have some pickles with my herring, that's about the only sugar I've had lately), the Lovejoy tasted like a long-anticipated conjugal visit after the first few lonely years of a 7-to-10 stint in a desert island prison.

What? I'm sure I don't mean that literally (eww). I barely know what I mean, never having been in prison or, really, on a desert island I don't think. Definitely never both simultaneously. I'm skirting the issue, aren't I.

Another time. The chocolate. Very unsweet. Very healthy-tasting, and I don't necessarily mean this as a compliment. But: since its "healthiness" was the reason I shelled out big dollahs for it, I have to ask myself if the overall effort was successful, if we consider the goals: 1) satisfy chocolate craving 2) without feeling too bad about it. So, yes. I guess it was. Would I rather eat a Lovejoy than a comparably-priced Vahlrona or Dolfijn or Scharffenberger bar? Absolutely not.

Two more weeks of full-on fitness.

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29.6.10

dissolve.














Bangkok? Saigon? That's what it feels like to our pussed-out, heat-intolerant constitutions these days. It's been 80 degrees or so for the last couple of days, which is (as I've bemoaned many a time in these pages) uncomfortably warm if you're trying to get stuff done.

I've been compensating for the debilitating temperatures by going to the beach in the mornings. Not much to share with you yet, still just going to the same old beach, eating the same old herring, watching the same old leathery, boom box-toting German tourists strut their stuff on the sand, being fascinated by the same old hefty topless grandmothers, etc. But soon I hope to branch out in my beach explorations and head further north. Especially if it keeps getting warmer.




24.6.10

love balm.













From top: Fish Stand #1; All the Things I Didn't Order; Herring #1, in the shade; Herring #2, in the sun. They may look generally pretty identical, but Herring #1 was 25 cents cheaper than Herring #2 and quite a bit better, or at least more to my taste: cooler temperature and thus more refreshing, more recently-cut onions, slightly newer pickles, and....yeah, just better. It's interesting to me that at the beach they ask you if you want it cut into pieces or not: in Amsterdam no one ever asks me that, it seems that pieces is the default setting.

I saw a headline on MSNBC today. What it really said was, "Unmanned drone set to patrol Texas border." What I thought it said was: "Unnamed drone set to patrol Texas border," probably a much sadder story.

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23.12.07

saturday night.





































From top: St. Feuillien's Cuvée de Noël (Christmas Ale). Raw herring with diced pickles, onions, and peppadew peppers. Father and daughter enjoying some time together in the kitchen. Choucroute garnie. Häagen-Dazs vanilla ice cream with rhubarb and strawberry compote. Us losing Pictionary again in a last-square showdown. If you can guess what this is supposed to be a drawing of, then you belong on the girls' team.

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Unrelatedly, I think Mara's hit on a repeatable, successful sauerkraut recipe. The secret ingredient? Hard cider instead of white wine or beer.

BTW, my tooth is fine. False alarm.

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16.8.07

send lawyers, guns and money.






















All doped up on (doctor-prescribed and appropriately self-administered) Temazepam this morning, and yet still awake, my thoughts eventually turned to food, as they usually can be counted on to do in times of psychic contortion.

In an effort to eat with a modicum of healthfulness, and to include my somehow-still-increasing (.....mmm, let's not say obsession, per se...let's call it:) interest in Surinamese food, I came up with this sandwich:

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broodje temazepam.

1 zuur haring filet (pickled herring) , patted dry

1 gezouten birambie, sliced lengthwise (a salted, pickled cultivar of the carambola fruit)
2 slices brown bread, toasted
1 scant tablespoon mayonnaise

Assemble, and eat over the sink because it's juicy.

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OK, now what are the chances that a rather obscure tropical fruit that I happened to have in my refrigerator would have actual known drug interactions with the benzodiazepine that I am currently taking? Anyone? If the title of an abstract called "Inhibition of human cytochrome P450 by star fruit juice" revs your engine, you can read about it here.

Suffice to say, no more pickled birambie for this unfortunate fucker. But it was nice while it lasted. And I think there are other Surinamese pickles that would be just as lovely...you know, made with other, less-fucking-deadly tropical fruits.

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august haiku.

couldn't we just talk
to each other in the dark
forever, maybe?

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8.6.07

happy anniversary baby, etc.

















Though Miss Mara and I'se been friends for, um...25 years or so, Thursday was officially our official 10-year anniversary. Luckily, not 200m away from our front door, someone was throwing a party with free food and drinks and we were invited!

Above: cucumber and lobster shooters, serrano ham/pine nut/pesto and smoked salmon/caper crostini. Below: Hollandse Nieuwe (the first herring of the season)...this was in fact the second day of the season, and these were just really perfect at the moment...I am now at last finally a convert to Hollandse Nieuwe...I guess it was only a matter of time, really.































































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Above: ice-cold korenwijn. Below: the face it makes you make when you taste it for the first time. It's a version of jenever that has a higher-than-usual percentage of malt wine added to it. Speaking of jenever, this subject contains one of my favorite Dutch colloquialisms: a jenever with a beer chaser is called a kopstoot, or headbutt. Without a beer chaser it's just called another one of my favorite (fake) colloquialisms, harsh realm:

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Then, after she stopped making this face, we came home and had a petite steak and garlic mashed potatoes. Cool! And I have been on the wagon for 16 days now. Woot.

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23.7.06

eating in amsterdam, duck-style (part 1).















PRE-2009 CAVEAT UPDATE: It's now 2012, and the below now-terribly-out-of-date post has kind of been superseded/supplanted by this one.

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2009 CAVEAT: This post is now 3 years old, and some things have changed, as they do. Toko Ikan Mas is not as reliable as it used to be, I don't think Abyssinia is the best Ethiopian in town anymore (it's still as good as it used to be, but I think Fenan Klein Afrika is better, and totally worth an evening of your time), etc.

Some things haven't changed: my favorite pom in town is still De Tokoman. I still really like the sopropo at Surima Tropische Markt (Kinkerstraat 184) but could never remember the name of the place so it never made the list. Etc.

ALSO: I think my eGullet foodblog is good complementary reading for this list. It also has some additional pictures.

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Inspired by a recent visit to eGullet, and an especially relevant topic called "The Foodlover's Guide to Amsterdam" which you can check out here, I decided to finally unfurl a perpetually-postponed post about my absolute don't-miss eats in our fair city.

At least that was the idea, but it's turned into a more personal list than that...these are things that I would really pine for if we were somehow separated, Amsterdam and I. It's almost all "street food", primarily because since we've been here we've experienced a serious dip in our enthusiasm for restaurant meals, probably attributable to many factors which are mostly beyond the scope of this mfkn list.

There are also a couple of esoteric things here that are great memories for me, but might be like "so what" to anyone else, or might not even be experienceable by anyone else because they were really one of a kind moments. This is the kind of thing you can include on your top 20 or 30 list when not many people read your blog.

Provenance aside, I say it's still good eatin' any way you slice it. I'm going to furnish the entire list first (for those who are coming to Amsterdam imminently and need some tips for cheap eats) and den fill in the details as I has time. BTW, should you be unfamiliar with any of the terrain, Mappy is a stupendous way to get directions to these places. OK, in the order I thought of them in:

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1a) Broodje Pom at De Tokoman, Waterlooplein 327.

Above: a broodje pom, not from De Tokoman.

As you probably know if you've eaten in Amsterdam before, a broodje is a sandwich. As you may not know, pom is a glorious Surinamese sort of casserole. I think its full name might be pom tajer nanga fouroe. It's a slowly baked, kind of Thanksgiving-y seeming dish with pomtajer (malanga), chicken legs, orange juice, a sort of bacon (zoutvlees), and nutmeg, with a bit of of room for embellishment and variations. As soon as I can find an English recipe, I'll post it, and if I can't...well then I'm just going to have to fire up my Translation Engine (which is sitting on blocks in the back yard right now).

When you order a Broodje Pom at De Tokoman, one of the invariably pleasant ladies behind the counter will ask if you want "zuur and peper" on it, and you definitely do: in this case zuur is a yellow cabbage/carrot/onion relish called atjar tampoer. Peper is fiery madame jeanette (scotch bonnet relative) pepper sauce or paste.

Anyway, what we have here: the creamy comfort of the pom combined with the tart relish and the (usually) gentle smoky heat, all on a crispy baguette...you get the picture. Totally dreamy. The Hete Kip broodje (spicy chicken) is also nice and perky (but can be a tad dry if you go later in the day), as are many of their other sandwiches--I just never really got over those first two I had there. They also have some nice vegetarian choices if you're so inclined. Buy a cold coconut water or tamarind drink to cool off with. ALERT: all pom broodjes are not created equal. I've had some rather gross ones at other places in my quest for More Pom. So don't improvise on this one: go to the Tokoman. ALSO ALERT: They run out of pom at about 4pm every day, sometimes earlier. So this is probably best done as a lunchtime thang.


1b) Broodje Chili Kip at De Hapjeshoek, Metrostation Waterlooplein 6.

Another Surinamese/Indonesian sandwich place, across the street from the Tokoman. This one's down in the subway station underneath the opera house (Stopera) and Waterloomarkt. Same general setup, but I find his pom to be less appealing. Instead, order a broodje Chili Kip (also 2,50 i think, maybe 3,00). It's "just" sauteed chicken with both mild and hot peppers and onions on freshly baked bread, but done perfectly and spicy as heck. Same drill, when he asks if you want peper and zuur, say yes...he makes his own zuur, which in this case are pink-tinged homemade cucumber pickles (compared to the Tokoman bright yellow, off-the-Albert Heijn-shelf atjar...both work well). Another great sandwich here is the Kip Ketjap, a dark sweet Indonesian chicken with ketjap manis, but like the Tokoman almost everything here is pretty swell.

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2) Lamahcun/Turkse Pizza at Mercan Patisserie, Rozengracht 148.

Pictured above: Turkish pizza, not from Mercan.

They have great boreks and baklava here as well, probably because they're primarily an actual bakery (as opposed to a bakery storefront, where everything is made offsite) and they make everything themselves. But, they also do a fine, fine version of the ubiquitous lamahcun (called Turkse pizza on Amsterdam menus), which is an oven-blistered flatbread coated with ground lamb, pomegranate syrup, garlic, tomato, and spices. When you order, they'll ask you if you want everything on it (they might say, "Alles erop?") and you say yes. A handful of chopped onions, lettuce, and red cabbage are placed on top of the flatbread, and then you get a squirt of a garlic-yogurt sauce and a squirt of spicy red sambal sauce on top. It's then rolled tight like a burrito, and you walk out as happy as anyone else in the city for the next 5 minutes.

This is totally not the only place to get a great Turkse pizza, but this is one of the few I've had that is truly excellent and reliable in the center of town, and where I can heartily recommend the rest of their roster as well, especially the pastries. Actually everything. Another very reliable lamahcun source is Kismet (Kinkerstraat 350), but they're a bit further off to the west (the rest of their Turkish food is also nice, if the tiniest bit bland, mostly stuffed vegetables, more of a sit-down lunch place but without table service). Kismet also has an Albert Cuypmarkt location, but last time I visited they didn't have a pizza oven at that location, which meant they also had no Turkse pizzas.

And having said all that: like the "bad pizza/bad sex" joke/truism, a "bad" Turkse pizza is still really not that bad. And if you don't like it, you're usually only out 2 euro or so, just like with sex. What I'm saying is, at least have a lamahcun somewhere if you can't get to Mercan or Kismet. The Albert Cuypmarkt and surrounding streets offer an especially good chance for your hits to outnumber your misses (I'm thinking specifically of the southern corner of Van Woustraat and Albert Cuyp).

















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3) Kibbeling , Gebakken Mosselen, Krabsalade at Volendammer Vishandel 't Centrum, Haarlemmerdijk 4.

Well, I've listed three of my favorites above (fried cod, fried mussels, and crab salad), but every single thing I've ever eaten here has been sterling, which explains the constant line out the door (I say out the door, but it's a small place. The line's never longer than 10 people), I guess. So, in order to not have to stand in line more than once: if I were you, I'd definitely get 1) something fried, 2) a sandwich, and 3) some herring. At least. Their smoked salmon is also pretty terrific. Let's tackle these in order.

When you hear the words "something fried", don't think of generic cheapie-style fried seafood, 3 parts breading to 1 part marine life. This is just the barest coating of thin batter, and the other 90% or so is fish. Cod, or kabeljauw, is the most common choice, but their fried mussels are perfect as well. So, to order, you want a bakje (a little plastic tray) of kibbeling or mussels, this is typically 150 grams or so (6 ounces?). Or you can order by the gram. The extremely Dutch girl behind the counter might tell you that it's only lukewarm and do you want to wait for a fresh batch. I wouldn't, it's still great lukewarm. She'll ask if you want sauce, and your choices are the Viswinkel Holy Trinity of ravigotte/tartar, knoflook/garlic, and cocktail/whisky. Cost: I think it's 2 euro per 100 grams, so 150 grams is..............3 euro.

















Sandwiches? They make their own fish salads: smoked mackerel, herring and beet, paling (smoked eel), tuna, etc., and you can get all of these on a sandwich. They're all good, but I'm a sucker for the "crab salad", which is really surimi (sucka), but it's in an amazing dressing of mayo and oranges, just perfect on a hot day. So in this case you'd want a broodje krabsalade, or broodje makreel, etc. There's a menu on the counter.

And then herring. I'm not truly a convert to non-pickled herring yet. As in, I like zure haring in a jar a lot, but if it's the fresher stuff (Hollandse Nieuwe, which is only very lightly salted), I still have to be in the mood for it, like oysters. When I am though (beer is usually involved), I ask for it with uitjes (onions) and zuur (pickles). Some would say that's wrong (Amsterdammers can be criticized for adulterating the haring with accoutrements when it should really just be dangled and swallowed), but I'm just not ready for the sea lion approach yet.

Pay, and then squeeze your way out the door and walk across the street to the little bridge where there are some benches upon which you might sit and eat your catch.


4) Okonomiyaki at Japanese Pancake World, Tweede Egelantiersdwarsstraat 24A (link).

Considering the voluminousness of my original post about the Osaka-style food love called okonomiyaki, I think I could probably just refer you to that post, but that's mostly about the food. I should mention that this "pizza joint" may have been the best restaurant experience I've had in Amsterdam.

It was a dark and stormy spring day just like any other in our fair city, except that three days before, on Queen's Day, I'd had the luck to amble past JPW while cruising for cheap vinyl. The JPW crew had a stand outside where they were nonchalantly griddling these incredible-looking discs of unidentifiable origin, kind of like ring-molded hash browns, and then suddenly executing a startling series of ninja-like (ed. note: racist) moves to squirt and spackle and baste it with all manner of viscous substance. Finally, the cook reaches into a tupperware bin and with a flourish coats the top of the cake with live butterflies.

I wasn't even high. I'd just never seen katsuobushi in action before. The shavings are so thin that when they come in contact with anything hot, they flutter and move, making your dish look very eerily alive. I swear I was not on any drugs. Look, I'm not alone. Does this man sound like he's on drugs?

Anyway, aside from the amazingly complex taste of such a simple dish, and the fact that JPW is a charmingly cool little space to eat in, another reason to go is that the chef (Frank, I think) could not be more inviting. I came in totally rain-drenched on the Tuesday after Queen's Day, and flopped down at a table near the front door. He came over and asked if I wanted to come upstairs to the teppan bar and watch him cook my food. Turns out I did, with him explaining everything he was doing and passing me the odd tidbit to taste. Very educational. BTW, I ordered plain Osaka style and plain Hiroshima style and preferred the Osaka by a nose.


5) Roti Canai at Nyonya Malaysia Express, Kloveniersburgwal 38.

The interior of NME is quite possibly the mathematical opposite of JPW above. Just imagine a well-architected, gezellig, candlelit two-level dining room with subtle modern touches, quiet bossa nova on the stereo and a good shade of red on the walls....then reverse everything about it and you've got NME. I've never eaten there, I don't even wait for my takeout food there, I pretend to have an errand to run so I can order, leave, and come back. And come back I do, bitches...for the Roti Canai, y'all (sound of muffled, somehow severely injured beatboxing fades in...).

(...and out, just like on NPR) If you've never had Malaysian roti, it's quite different from the Indian version after which it's named. The ghee-rich bread seems flatter, thinner, and more stratified than the Indian ones I've had, which is great because the more layers there are, the longer it lasts. And instead of dipping your bread into dal or chickpea curry, you dip it into head-lollingly rich and spicy coconut chicken curry broth. It's the kind of thing you hate to stop eating because it's doing everything right. But I'm sure it's a gazillion calories as well, so maybe it's best that they only have an appetizer portion on the menu. I think it's 2,50 euro for a 1-person serving. Get two, you won't want to share.

Everything else we've had there has ranged from good to excellent...I had the Malaysian equivalent of an ikan boemboe bali (Indonesian fish curry with candlenuts) and it totally rocked. Girlfriend is addicted to the Nyonya Fried Rice, which seems expensive for 10 euro until you realize that it's really just chock full of chicken and whole shrimp, more like a biriyani than Chinese fried rice.

They're very sweet there. But geez guys...can we dim the lights a little? Or turn down one of the TVs? And exactly how many simultaneously screaming kids is too many? No matter. Take your grub 50 feet away to a bench on the Kloveniersburgwal canal and prepare to receive inner beauty.

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Yet to be elaborated upon (where are 6-10? about to be posted):

11) Falafel at Maoz, Leidsestraat 85 (also Muntplein 1, others). (link)
12) Frites/Patatje Oorlog at Vleminckx, Voetboogstraat 31.
13) Beer at The Movies, Haarlemmerdijk 161. (link)
14) Smoked Anything from Frank's Smoke House, Wittenburgergracht 303. (link)
15) Tofu-Kerrie Broodje at Bakkerij Paul Annee, Runstraat 25.
16) Uitsmijter at Kat in de Wijngaert (Lindengracht 160) or Daalder Cafe, Lindengracht 90. (link)
17) Fresh Oysters at De Engelbewaarder, Kloveniersburgwal 59. (Fridays only, and not every Friday either. And not all night either. It's a bit of a secret. I'll explain.)
18) Thyme or Lemongrass Chocolates at Puccini Bomboni, Staalstraat 17. (link)
19) Appeltaart at Latei, Zeedijk 143. (link)
20) Silsi at Abyssinia, Jan Pieter Heijestraat 190hs.

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12.10.05

it's not easy being green...













...greener than a Kuih Cara with envy over not being Malaysian, in Malaysia for Ramadan. Check this out. Not just this post, but the whole blog is full of great pictures of fantastic-looking Malay exotica.

Now, on the plus side of being here, other than a better-than-average opportunity (in Europe) to sample Malaysian food (a new Malaysian place opened up literally around the corner on the Kloveniersburgwal...haven't eaten there yet), October weather has been ridiculously pleasant. 60F and sunny today, and it's been that way pretty much all month. I don't even know where my raincoat is. And it's October. Huh.

Food-wise, what've I been up to? Sardines. Maybe I had to endure Herring Boot Camp in order to appreciate these guys, but I must say I'm totally impressed. Recipes and further geeky analysis to follow.