A bad translation
In Nederish it is called 'Zuidlaarder bol'.
Great with coffee
It is that time of year where the last of the harvest is brought in. In the Northern Hemisphere autumn really is starting to become evident. Even though in Nederland we will have another warm after summer day, 25 degrees Celcius. Great to do some woodwork repairs. Waiting now for the morning dew to disappear.
During autumn we do have several kinds of annual markets up North. In my hometown there is the 'All hallows' one, in Oaldamster dialect known as 'Addrilntje'. And for many people around here it really starts off with the 'Zuidlaarder markt'. (Kookul translated that as 'South-bearing market.) It is about 30 Kilometers from where I live.
Might go there again this year. It was a tradition for the family I grew up in. It has been a long time since I have been there, good memories. Somehow during the second week of october I am focussed on a certain kind of bread. To be more specific, I am on the lookout for the worldfamous 'Zuidlaarder bol'. It is a currant Bun, quite big in size, named after the village that gave it fame.
Fishy things
So when I spotted it at a local supermarket yesterday I just had to buy it. And it is no way near the real thing, as far a I remember. Those were baked 'live' at the market. The enchanting smell of the fresh sweet oven baked currant Bun was hard to resist. Getting one shortly before heading home, still warm. Also some smoked eel and raw herring were part of the things the family would take home.
Well, I never cared for the fishy part. The smell was enough to put me off, it still does. But the currant Bun, could hardly wait to dig in. We would have a visit at my grandparents' in the village of Muntendam. They really loved those fishy things. Think I must have been found as a baby between the Cauliflowers. Although my brother also disliked them fishy things. But he started to change his eating preferences a bit.
Best served warm
Hot chocolate milk and dairy butter melting away softly on a warm slice of currant Bun. Me trying to find a spot at my Grandparents' house that did not have the dominant smell of them fishy things. Outside it would be cold and inside it was warm in many ways. Finally I could dig in. The cream on the cake. Life was as simple as it was good.
This morning I sliced myself a big chunk of 'Zuidlaarderbol'. Butter on it and powder sugar, as I am a sweettooth. No hot chocolate, but coffee, getting myself ready to finish up on the woodwork, before it gets too warm. Now who would have thought I could state that on saturday the 13th of october 2018? Anyway, think I'll just get me one more cup of coffee and then get sanding.
And the 'Zuudloarder boale' (dialect)? Well, it was okay, but it did not hit the right spot. Think I might head for Zuidlaren coming tuesday and get me the real thing.
Have a great one!
Having some good memories for breakfast.
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