Holland in the summer: North and South

I have been living in Holland for five years and three months now—man, that seems like a long time—and yet I'm still discovering its treasures. Holland is such a small country and sometimes you feel like you've seen it all but, no, there's always more. There are hidden gems everywhere you travel. You just need to dig a little deeper, search for them.

This summer, we have been busier than ever before, traveling around the country and seeing (almost) all that is has to offer. We still have places to visit, people to meet, there are plenty of good times to be had. Of that I'm certain.

We traveled north, to Volendam, an old Dutch fishing village. Small traditional houses, drawbridges, traditional costumes and wooden clogs, a harbor filled with old fishing boats and well, fish; that's what Volendam is famous for.

We ate a lot of raw Dutch herring there. And yes, we liked it.
Haring met broodje en ui (herring with bread and onion or pickles) and on the far left, smoked eel. Not the most romantic food, no?

And of course, we had our sweet treat, poffertjes, little Dutch pancakes, dusted with lots of icing sugar. They're delicious. Who needs regular pancakes when you can have these?


We traveled southwest to the province of Zeeland, Zealand in English, and if that name makes you think of New Zealand, you're correct. The island country of New Zealand is named after the Dutch province of Zeeland after it was discovered by a Dutch seafarer.
Zeeland is famous for its tiny brown shrimp and its pastry. Oh, the pastry, I loved it all.

We first visited the capital of Zeeland, Middelburg, which during the Middle Ages was an important trading center and one of the most powerful cities of the Low Countries.

The Middelburg Stadhuis (City Hall), built in late-gothic style during the Middle Ages. It is now a University.


Then we went to the picturesque village of Burgh-Haamstede.

We went to the most amazing bakery, run by a Jewish baker, with recipes for bread and pastries almost as old as the village itself. The owner, Harry Sonnemans, collects Volkswagen cars and motorcycles and his bakery, as well as the surrounding area, is filled with crazy VW knick-knacks.

Okay, this is the stuff dreams are made of. Soft and amazingly fluffy like the best doughnut you'll ever have, with a cinnamon-y, nutmeg-y, dark brown sugary, sweet glaze. And did I tell you it's baked? Yep, no greasy oils here. This is the Zeeuwse bolus, a traditional pastry of Zeeland, of Jewish origin.

This is the Zeeuwse kruidkoek, meaning spice cookie, and it's a spicy cake-biscuit. It's sticky and gooey and soft and has chocolate and marzipan and nuts inside. Crazy good.

Take a speculaas biscuit and remove that pungent spicy flavor, leaving only the cinnamon and brown sugar. Coat it with caster sugar and you're set. Perfection. That's the Zeeuwse speculaas, milder than the traditional speculaas and much more to my taste.


In the upcoming months, I plan on sharing with you recipes for all the aforementioned sweet treats. Hold on tight!!

And they were

There are people who get excited simply by looking at a plate of food. They eat with their eyes first, feasting on it before they have even taken a single bite. Needless to say, I am one of those people.

I'm a very visual person and if something looks good, it immediately tempts me to eat it. I salivate in anticipation but sometimes, unfortunately, I get disappointed. Every so often, food, as well as all else in life, is not what it seems.

I have many a time tried different kinds of food, from street food to desserts, driven by their alluring look or mystifying aroma, only to be let down after the first taste.

There are times, however, when I see an ugly plate of food, something that is so totally unappealing that I want to turn around and run away from it and yet, when I do try it, I am amazed. Because, my friends, not everything that looks good, tastes good, and not everything that looks bad, tastes worse.

When this nectarine jam and semolina biscuit came out of the oven, it wasn't looking that good to me. It was too dark, the color of the nectarine jam was not as vivid anymore and it seemed uncooked in the middle. I was overtly disappointed, telling S how it was a waste of time and effort, and I even doubted my own sense of smell when it was dictating to my brain that what I was about to taste would be heavenly. And it was.

Full of buttery goodness and sweetness from the dark brown sugar, with a biscuit that was moist and soft in the middle and deliciously crumbly on the outside, covered by a lace of nectarine jam that added another level of sweetness and a hint of tartness as well. I doubted the possibility that these could be the best biscuit bars I'd ever have the pleasure to eat. And they were.

Nectarine Jam and Semolina Biscuit Bars
Biscuit recipe adapted from Donna Hay

I used my own nectarine jam and I have also made these bars using strawberry jam, but I can't wait to try them with my fig jam. Choose whichever one you enjoy the most and make these, pronto.

By the way, if you're Greek, this may remind you of a pasta flora but it's not. It may look like pasta flora but the taste and texture of the biscuit is very different and in my opinion much much better.

Yield: 9 large or 16 small bars

Ingredients
270 g unsalted butter, softened, plus extra for greasing the pan
130 g soft dark brown sugar
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
2 small eggs
250 g all-purpose flour
135 g fine semolina
320 g nectarine jam

Special equipment: 20x20 cm square baking pan, baking paper, stand or hand-held mixer, piping bag with 1 cm round nozzle


Preparation
Preheat your oven to 180 degrees Celsius / 350 Fahrenheit.

In the bowl of your stand mixer (or in a large bowl) add the butter, soft dark brown sugar and vanilla and beat, using the paddle attachment (or with your hand-held mixer), on medium-high speed until pale and fluffy.
Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after the addition of each egg. Add the flour and fine semolina and beat on medium-high speed until well combined but be careful not to overmix. You should end up with a soft biscuit dough.

Measure 1½ cups of the biscuit dough and put it into your piping bag fitted with a 1 cm nozzle, or if you're using a disposable piping bag, you can cut the tip, as I do.

Butter the bottom and sides of your pan and line the bottom with a piece of baking paper, leaving an overhang; it will come in handy later on when you remove the bars from the pan. Butter the baking paper and spread the remaining biscuit dough into the pan, leveling the top with the back of a spoon or a spatula.

Place the pan on the middle rack of the oven and bake for 16-18 minutes or until the biscuit has taken on a golden color. Remove the pan from the oven and spread the jam evenly over the top of the biscuit. Pipe the reserved biscuit dough around the edges of the pan, creating a frame, and then pipe 3 vertical and 3 horizontal lines, creating 16 squares. Return the pan to the oven and bake for a further 20-22 minutes or until golden-brown.

Remove the pan from the oven and place it on a wire rack. Allow the biscuit to cool inside the pan and then remove it, holding it by the overhanging baking paper, and place it on a cutting board. You need to be a bit careful when you remove it from the pan, it may be a little soft. Transfer it quickly so it doesn't crack. Cut with a large, sharp knife into 9 large or 16 smaller pieces and enjoy.

You can keep them at room temperature, covered, for up to 5 days.