4 September 2007

Pimp your breakfast - Dutch Style



Here's how to do it:


1. Go to Amsterdam
2. Spend an hour or so in the Kitsch Kitchen Shop. (Knowing it's not what it used to be and really too expensive...).
3. Buy stuff anyway. In particular an over the top plastic tablecloth.
4. Have your parents AND parents in law INSIST you take a ton of food home with you.
5. Add this to the ton you already bought yourself.
6. Drive 750 kilometres in a car jammed with suitcases, weekend bags, buggys, toys, blankets, shoes and numerous plastic bags filled with food and other random things.
7. Hope that one day you'll actually be travelling a tad more glamourous. For instance with a matching set of 2 or 3 suitcases. It doesn't have to be Louis Vuitton.
8. Come home and enjoy your breakfast the next day with lots of butter, good old "hagelslag" and soft, preferably white, bread.
9. Look at all the pictures you made, think of the great time everybody had and just feel good about being home again.

2 comments:

Fledgling said...

"Hagelslag" is that Dutch for "carpenter ants"? I wouldn't be surprised. Reminds me of being served a *real* delicacy in De Vier Vliegen. It took all the composure I could muster not to stand on my chair and scream at the site of an entire grey eel coiled up on my plate. Eel eyes. Eel mouth. Eel teeth. Eel tail. Eel butt.

I love Amsterdam. Everything in Amsterdam. I even like the word "Schipol". I like everything ... except that eel.

Love that funky tafellaken. It's kitschy enough for me!

Goede eetlust. I guess.

;-) N

Diba said...

Ich "Grenzgänger" stelle immer wieder fest, wie langweilig Deutschland ohne die
Nebenan-Niederlande ist...
Keen Hagelslag, keine Poofertjes, kein lekkere jonge Gouda kaas, kein Appelflap,kein Hema, kein V&D,
kein Jottum, kein MuyMalo, kein Vingino, kein Oilily, kein Room Seven,...
Kein Amsterdam, kein Rembrandt, kein De Hoop, kein Schiermonnikoog,
kein Ameland, Texel, Vlieland, Terschelling,... ... ...

Ganz zu schweigen von meinem Lieblings-Wochenmarkt in unserer holl. Nachbarstadt!

Ich bin noch lange nicht fertig, aber wem erzähle ich das?

Diba