We’ve been staying in this one hotel in the south of the Netherlands for as long as I can remember growing up, in a town called Goes (pronounced like Goose except you doing a hacking throat noise instead of a hard G) that has geese and sheep penned up in the back.
The hotel has the most incredible breakfast and all the guests line up with fists up to get it in the morning; variety upon variety of sliced Gouda, soft wheat bread in all different rolls and slices, hams ranging from fresh off the pig to Baby Boomer era old, bad coffee from a stainless-steel do-it-all machine, hagelslag, and full-fat yogurt. If it sounds quaintly bucolic I must stop you there - this is a chain hotel (a Van der Valk - the Dutch Hilton, if you will) on sparse, alarmingly clean highway. I can’t say I’d ever recommend going there if you didn’t have to visit your relatives’ potato farms that afternoon, but I dunno how serious y’all are about your breakfasts. It might be worth it?
-Paulina
Here lies a photo of the very best thing we ate in Scotland, a grilled pb&nutella made with The Best Peanut Butter of All Time, Holland’s Calve Pindakaas with Stukjes Noot (“peanut cheese” with “lil things of nut.” Seriously, that’s the translation!)
-Paulina
Mango avocado salsa needs no recipe! Just keep tasting until there is nothing left (cilantro, lime, the yellow kind of mangoes, salt, green onions, cayenne pepper).
In other saucy news - you see what I did there, hispanohablantes - I am now engaged to dear boyfriend, so an engagement chicken recipe is bound to pop up soon (in the form of everything I have ever cooked for him, because that cumulative/aggregate is what counts, not that one freaking roasted chicken recipe).
- Nellie B
Gorgonzola-Butternut Squash Tart
This tart dough! You won’t believe how easy and surprisingly successful it is. No food processor, no ice-cold butter, no chilling the dough. It turned out delightfully flakey and the best part of this gorgonzola butternut squash tart. Now, I like blue cheese. But if you’re going to bring this to a potluck (as I did), I’d honestly use gruyere or goat cheese or something mild instead. Apparently not everybody is into moldy stank in their dinners? Who knew?
This recipe is infinitely flexible since I totally made it up and by the Grace of Our Lord In heaven it somehow turned out totally delicious. This is your town, kittycat, and ain’t nobody gonna declaw you so you tweak away. I surreptitiously snuck home the leftovers, which might be terrible potluck etiquette.
French Tart Dough Recipe (from David Lebovitz)
Toss the sugar, salt, butter, oil, and water in a big glass bowl and place it in the oven at 400º. Set a timer for about fifteen minutes and pull it out once the butter starts to brown around the edges. Being careful to hold the bowl with a heat-proof towel, dump in about a cup of flour and mix it with a wooden spoon until it becomes a ball that pulls away from the sides. I needed about another half cup to get it to the right texture - pliable but not a total oil-bomb.
When it’s cool enough to handle, press it into a 9” tart shell and use your fingers to press it into the sides. Reserve a little bit of the dough, about a ‘raspberry,’ David suggests, for cracks - though I didn’t have any. Prick the dough with a fork a few times and slide it back in the oven for another 10 minutes, until golden brown.
Gorgonzola and Butternut Squash Filling
Peel that squash and cube it into lil cubes. I know, it sucks, just do it, it’s full of vitamin A and you only grow when you challenge yourself. Toss it with some olive oil, salt, and pepper and roast it (perhaps when you’re melting your butter for the tart shell?) at 400º for 20 minutes, until caramelized on the edges. You’ll have extra to throw in your salads, deal with it.
Food processor the dickens out of all that business, adding a little bit of water if it’s too thick. You don’t want it sludgy but you don’t want it runny; angle for a medium-pourin’ custard.
Pour it into your pre-cooked tart shell as high up as the edges go, and drop in your roasted butternut squash in a single layer. Or maybe two if you can swing it! Why not. And for the love of all that is good don’t forget to handle your tart shell by the sides so the ring doesn’t fall down and burn your arm or spill the innards! Bake it all at 350º for 40 minutes and let it cool completely before handling.
-Paulina
I usually approach Bon Appetit with slight trepidation, having been burned by a few unreliable recipes. But whaaaat! These pea pancakes from the Canal House column were divine, little pop-rocks of sweet peas (and girlfriend you know I used frozen) exploding in your mouth as a foil to the salty, perfectly textured pancake batter. I found myself pulling one more out of the Tupperware and eating it ham-fisted and cold from the fridge and still being wildly impressed.
All about green things lately: green curry (go get you some Mae Ploy paste in the bag in the tub, full fat coconut milk, potatoes, chicken, green beans, extra ginger and garlic, last minute spinach addition) and blistered Japanese peppers that are fake Padrons. Last night was a traditional Dutch dish of mashed potatoes, kale, green garlic, and spicy sausage. Starting to get back into my cooking groove, finally!
- Nellie
We wanted so badly to love Salt and Straw. Everybody loves Salt and Straw! It’s the ice cream darling of Portland and full of mugs festooned with little animal drawings, lesbians scooping ice cream, a garbage can informing you that “We compost everything here.” (Of course you do.)
But honestly? It was icy and tasted like it was made with skim milk. This isn’t Yogurtland, mama needs dat CREAM.
-Paulina
Sistercation! Nellie just got on her plane and I already miss her so much. Portland was gorgeous. We happily hiked, shopped (matching Baggu backpacks, precious) and ate our way through the city starting with Tasty n’ Alder’s homemade cottage cheese and pineapple jam, then the flakiest fried-chicken biscuit of all time, divinely buttery and crumbly.
(Full disclosure ahead: we had a brief dalliance with a McDonald’s snack wrap at some point, which mostly ended up on Nellie’s yoga pants.)-Paulina
When you peel $8 of baby artichokes in 46 minutes, you really don’t want to do what I do. I slopped their burnt sloppy hearts all over a giant white platter, and grinned beatifically at my romantic roommate, shiftily announcing, “it’s artichoke season!” When he asks you if there is anything else for dinner, it is also best not to whip up some week old ricotta with dried Italian spices and olive oil, the chalkiness of which will only serve to juxtapose against the mushiness of your artichoke disaster. Brb, gonna go cover myself in pea tendrils and cry.
- Nellie
Like the classic tale of King Midas, everything I touch turns to gold. And by gold I mean I crappy food: eggplant wontons in too-thin wrappers and burst out of the sides, tarte tatin that caved in on itself while still undercooked, sweet potato latkes that turned to scorched, farinaceous skitters. Today I poached an egg and managed to turn all of the white into swirling shreds that deftly evaded swats from my slotted spoon.
However everything is salvaged by mashing it in a bowl and throwing some avocado and sea salt on top, right?
-Paulina