Whilst driving around Wellington, New Zealand, I saw this little fish and chip shop. Look at the sign: I mean, a fish wearing a hat leaps out of the water to give you a wink and a thumbs up… What’s not to like?
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
Directly next to the “hippopotamus” building of my yesterday’s post, we find this adventurous mural. It’s huge… the fish swim in a large school that covers the entire length of the building. Traffic behind us meant that pulling over wasn’t really an option, and the rain was getting harder. I had to compete with the windscreen wipers for space to see out of the windscreen: this is one funny mural, someone with an excellent sense of humor painted these fish. Wellington, New Zealand is excelling itself with beautiful murals and the decorative arts…Kudos!
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
Himself sat out the ride on the Singapore Flyer, the heights of things such as tall Observation wheels really not being something he enjoys. Sat more comfortably on terra firma in the cool surrounds of the Flyer building indoor / outdoor tropical rainforest garden, he enjoyed a quiet break. Later, when he and Kiwi Daughter went off the collect cold drinks, Little Mr. and I paused to take a look at the fish in the gardens pools. I love how the patterns of the water, the combination of opacity and transparency. light and shadow interact with the different colours of the Koi fish. I could imagine one or two of these photographs as studies for impressionist style paintings. An “arty” post therefore… Enjoy!
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
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(photograph © Kiwidutch)
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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Singapore_Flyer
Wikipedia / Singapore Flyer / Observation Wheel / Singapore
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
If you think that neighbourly disputes are a new phenomenon then you would be very much mistaken.
Next to “de Waag” (Weigh house) in Gouda is a large white building called “de Zalm” (The Salmon) and a permanent reminder of the neighbourly dispute between the two that took place in 1670 is set into the wall of “de Zalm’ that faces “de Waag“.
There is an information plaque on the wall but it’s only in Dutch so I’ve translated it into English.
The text is also a little bit higgledy piggledy so I’ve added some information so it makes sense and then marked out the original translated text in italics.
With the construction of the “de Waag” by famous architect Pieter Post, and in order ‘to guarantee the prestige of their new building, the city council demanded that it’s height become a benchmark for other buildings in the area.
The roof of the adjacent building, the Inn called “de Zalm”, built in 1670 was required to be at least 6 feet lower than the Waag (also completed in 1670) according to city government regulations, much to the displeasure of it’s owner.
This displeasure is recorded in stone with a picture of an angry looking salmon and the text (in old Dutch:)”Niet te hooch niet te laech van passe’, which means ‘not too high not too low, just right’.” It’s certainly a statement that the owner may have been forced to comply with the regulations but he didn’t have to like it.
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
My weird sense of humour gives me a thought: what if all of today’s neighbourly disputes were recorded in such a way too? You (and your descendants) could walk around a neighbourhood and have a laugh at all of the petty things that get on people’s nerves.
I’d love to see walking tours that visit the houses of ” yappy dog, tall trees, untidy gardens, noxious weeds, party house” disputes and see appropriate pictures in stone with a well thought out text below. It might also make people realise that life is short and that many of these disputes could be settled amicably.
Strangely, benieth the text relevant to “de Zalm” is another paragraph that relates to, and in my opinion would be better included with other information plaques for, “de Waag“.
Again it’s only in Dutch, and even though it’s completely unrelated to the story of “de Zalm“, I will translate it here in case visitors find the Dutch and go looking for a translation. ”
‘The Gouda historian Ignatius Walvis reports that for “de Waag” to be built, several buildings on, or very close to the market were bought and demolished. The upper floor of “de Waag’ was not important for the weighing and was used from 1668 to 1907 by the Gouda weapons / firearms store.
Thereafter the space was used in succession as an exhibition room, Vet’s office, office of a cleaning service, local tourist office and a branch of the Dutch dairy board. Since 1995 “de Waag” has housed the Gouda Cheese museum (formerly known as the Gouda Cheese and Professional Craft Trades museum)’
I then found further information about “de Zalm” on a Wikipedia page (but in Dutch only.) Interestingly, “de Zalm” Restaurant’s own page does not appear to have a history page at all. I have translated the Wikipedia page:
‘In 1551 this inn had gone by the names of ‘de Oude Salm” (Old Salmon) or “de Vergulde Salm” (the Gilt Salm).
The owner feared that the building of “de Waag” (Weigh house) would overshadow his establishment so decided to build a new (and bigger) Inn. The city council permitted this but under strict regulations.’
‘The Inn was required to be six feet lower than “de Waag“. Displeased with this the innkeeper has laid down this requirement in 1670 with the text: Niet te hooch niet te laech van passe’, (not too high, not too low, just right).
The premises has held a catering / hospitality function from 1551 until the present day, and could be the oldest inn in North and South Holland. “de Zalm” was also an important station for the postal service between Amsterdam and Antwerp in the 19th century. To this end, a horse stable was built behind the hotel, which was converted into a “pannenkoeke” (pancake) restaurant in the 20th century.
On 5th May 1945, the District Commander of the National Armed Forces made the proclamation in “de Zalm” that the war was over and transferred power over the city. The liberation of Gouda was thus official. The building is listed as a Dutch national monument. Finally, I notice that another fish has been added to “de Zalm’s” wall. It is two thirds of the way up, and an advertisement for the establishment. In a small twist, this fish has a smile instead of a frown: maybe the message is that after almost 350 years the feud is over?
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
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Wikipedia: “de Waag” (Weigh House) / Gouda/ The Netherlands / (Dutch text only)
Wikipedia: “de Zalm” (the salmon) / Gouda/ The Netherlands / (Dutch text only)
Brasserie – Bar / De Zalm (The Salmon) / Gouda
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
Somehow when we arrived at Fort Kijkduin I had a few preconceived ideas about what we would see.
History? Check? Exhibits? Check. An Aquarium?… Ch…
Wait, What!?
The wonderful surprise that I discovered in Fort Kijkduin is that it houses a massive aquarium, and all sorts of fish.
First on display is a walk through tunnel where, separated by a thick perspex wall, fish swim over our heads, and to our left and right.
I have no idea exactly how intelligent fish are but there are some fish here that appear to have a “personality”, because they are right up against the perspex, following us as we move, seemingly keeping eye contact.
Are they waiting for a selfie? Trying to strike up a conversation? Who knows? It’s a wonderful surprise and completely unexpected since I had not read any brochures or known about this place in advance. I have special thanks for our friends who found this attraction, this activity is spot on for everybody!
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
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We can see through the tank to the Fort’s walls on the other side. Viewed through the water, it makes an interesting pattern…
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
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The fish in the right hand corner seemed unusually attentive…
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
You know I love quirky things: seen on English motorway, a truck carrying one of the strangest cargo’s I’ve ever seen (and it’s headed towards the sea, but maybe that’s just a coincidence). We have a giggle and tease about pulling them over and cheekily asking of we could have chips with these please?
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
I never thought I could enjoy a holiday in a large camping ground, packed with hundreds of caravans, tents, static caravans and campers.
Himself and I are definitely “off the beaten track” kind of people, we love nothing better than getting away from the tourist traps, eating where the locals do and inhaling as much of the local culture as possible.
Ok, that last bit sounds a little bit wrong… rest assured we aren’t smoking anything, but rather trying to get the real flavour of somewhere new by blending in with the locals whenever possible.
That’s been easier on some occasions than others, Himself’s height often captivates peoples attention and instantly marks us out as tourists but his passion for languages quickly puts people at ease because nothing stuns a little Portuguese /French/ German farmer more than a gigantic Dutchman asking for directions to a good local restaurant in very decent Portuguese / French or German. Of course now that we have children, and even worse picky children who fuss over what they will or won’t eat, “going local” has had to be curtailed to some degree, but I am proud that despite my kids frustratingly difficult culinary habits, we have never ever eaten at certain fast food burger chain restaurants.
Personally I’m not a huge fan of pizza places either but that’s only because I’m probably one of the small percentage of people who never really got a pizza habit, unlike the rest of my family for whom the words “Italian Restaurant ” are a little piece of magic promising pizza and pasta and upon which they would live happily three hundred and sixty five days of the year.
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
I was therefore in two minds about our decision to eat at the Pizzeria located on site at the Sandy Balls camp site . The rest of the family were relishing the idea but I wasn’t feeling the love for either pasta or pizza and wasn’t particularly looking forward to looking at a menu for the “least worst” option.
Imagine my delight when we discovered that the pizzeria said it would be no problem for me to have fish and chips!
Now I’m not one hundred percent certain if it was on their own menu or if they collaborated with the snack bar close by, but we managed to get a meal where everyone got what they fancied on the day.
Kiwi Daughter even ditched her original pizza plans for fish and chips too, (by working out that she could get pizza “any time” at home but that fish and chips were a treat that we could only get in the UK or when back in New Zealand). Little Mr even wrangled the dreaded chicken nuggets out of us, I’ve long since banned Himself from buying them at home but we have a rule that on holiday we are allowed a treat, a rule that Little Mr is exploiting as much as he can humanly manage.
Himself naturally went for the pasta option, Kiwi Daughter and I got a piece of fish each and then shared a portion of chips and the kids had shushies for drinks and ice-cream for desert. Every one was happy, and Himself could even enjoy a glass of wine because he didn’t have to drive back. Win, Win.
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
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Himself, Little Mr and I are exploring Palio Trikeri Island at the end of the Pelion Peninsula in Greece.
The boat trip was only about ten minutes long and we find ourselves in the heart of the village and since it’s now lunch time, getting very hungry.
This is a retrospective post, we were there at the end of October 2012 and it was the very end of the tourist season, we see a couple leaving one of the outside restaurant tables who look like they are on some sort of walking tour, but for the rest we appear to be the only “non-locals” in sight.
Just before reached the island we thought we might walk a little bit and then sit and get a bite to eat but the sight of food makes our tummies rumble and the plan quickly changes to eating first and walking later.
There are several restaurants open but on a whim we choose the one that the previous couple just left. It’s been trying to rain off and on, but the weather is easing considerably as we enquire about a meal and by the time we have finished it”s completely dry. The temperature even in the last week of October is still a respectably warm 26 C (78.8 F) and the outside seating area is covered, so even if it would have been drizzling a tiny bit it still would have been comfortable outside.
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
We order the Greek equivalent of “fish and chips” for little Mr., the fish comes whole and un-filleted, so I had to pick as much of the fish off the bones for him, which kind of worked, in reality he mostly ended up eating a lot of French fries.
Himself’s dish came with deep fried squid and mine was a different fish on the menu to Little Mr., also deep fried.
We shared a large salad together and Himself had a yearning for some beans and tzatziki and got an extra hummus dish on the side as bonus .
(he’s not sure if it came with the larger dish he ordered, if it was an entrée or if whatever the lady said in broken English he just randomly agreed to) but however we got it, it was delicious.
I have to say now that my fish, although it had bones in it too, is definitely best fish dish I have ever eaten in my life. The fish “batter” was of a thin-ish consistency, it’s super crunchy and the flavour was drool-worthy. This is the kind of meal that you find yourself wishing you’d eaten two portions of, even if you were not actually hungry after the first one was finished.
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
This is the kind of meal you want to eat more of in gluttonous fashion simply because you don’t want the magic to end.
After initial dissections with the knife and fork I quickly abandoned the knife and resorted to using the fork and my fingers, not wanting to waste even a single morsel.
I find myself wishing we had planned to spend the night here, just so we could come back to this restaurant and I could have this again, even all the twists and turns in the road were worth it.
Of course the fish is mega fresh, it was certain to have been caught the same morning, and this is the kind of dish that the local eat, so probably it’s a local family recipe made with years or decades of experience.
It’s simple but done to absolute perfection.
The owner was delighted with my gushing compliments and obvious pleasure, and bought out a little square of something that was kind of nutty and cake-like free of charge for dessert. Himself finished it because like many Greek desserts it was too sweet for my liking. I dreamed about this meal for the rest of our holiday and semi-regularly since. I tried to make it at home, and failed… one day, somehow some time, clearly, I will have to come back…
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
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(photograph © Kiwidutch)
There are places in any city that only the locals know about, hidden treats in unassuming looking places, sometimes in neighbourhoods or streets that tourists never enter.
The trick is to know which of these places are the best of the best, which are value for money and which are places well worth advertising to a wider audience.
One such place in the Hague, or more specifically the seaside area of Scheveningen is a fish restaurant and sea food shop in the heart of the harbour area.
Getting there involves a trip down the Vissershavenweg and then a left turn into an unassuming street called the Visafslagweg that looks to be full of fish processing warehouses (which they indeed they are).
Your nose will tell you that you are in the right place, it smells of the sea, and rather fishy… love it or loathe it, the smell comes with the territory I’m afraid.
When I first came to the Netherlands to live some twenty years ago, Simonis fish restaurant and shop was an exceptionally plain place, more or less a bare minimum style sitting area with plastic outdoor chairs, the food served simply and with little decoration: these days the place has undergone a style transformation, it’s gone noticeably up market and everything is significantly more elaborate.
One thing that hasn’t changed is that the fish is fresh, the portions are hearty and you stand in a queue to make your order, pay, take a ticket with a number on it and then go to the counter to collect your food once your number comes up.
Simoni’s on the actual harbour has very slowly but surely become a secret that has leaked out: partly because they now also have a branch in the Gedempte Gracht in the Hague’s central city, and another further along the Scheveningen boulevard on the Strandweg, and because apparently they were mentioned either in a travel magazine or guide book and last but not least because the Hague’s international community has grown significantly in recent years and expats who dine out often and find a treasure tell their friends. Himself and I had good friends come and visit us from England in 2012, we have had the pleasure of being visitors to their home in Folkestone on several occasions and their hospitality has been beyond excellent so now it’s our turn to return the favour.
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
Himself knows that they are both lovers of sea food and that Simoni’s regularly does a fresh “plateau de fruits de mer ” which literally translates as “fruits of the sea”.
It’s a seafood platter for lovers of shellfish to delight in, and it’s almost always a platter intended for more than one person.
I am allergic to the mollusc group of shellfish (generally that means things with hinges) but can eat things like crab, prawns and shrimp because they belong to the crustacean family and not the mollusc one.
Himself and I can never share a “fruit de mer” platter but our friends would be delighted to help Himself out, and I can then head for a plate of garlic shrimp and everyone is happy.
One of the new additions to the renovated Simoni’s is a massive chiller cabinet close to the front door in which all sorts of the days fresh fish and seafood are displayed, it’s from here that the lobsters, shrimps etc will be heading onto diners plates during the evenings service and it’s testament to the popularity of the place that the cabinet was getting severely depleted by the time we finished our meal. The display cabinet certainly offered some excellent photographic opportunities.
Our group, all of us having a slow eating finger food meal, took far longer than most of the diners who come for the fish dishes, we observed what other people were ordering, made notes for next time and then polished off some very Dutch apple taart for dessert. (I however was swayed by the chocolate taart instead) Simoni’s in the harbour is still a place where locals love to go, but it’s also a treat for visitors, it has an ambience all it’s own, and from fish to seafood the choice is amazing. It may have gone upmarket but it retains the old feel of the place in it’s bones and that’s what everyone always goes back for.
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
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(photograph © Kiwidutch)
I was born into a Dutch family so you’d assume that I was genetically and culturally predisposed to consider certain Dutch traditions and cuisines as “normal” fare.
Not so…
Way back in the nineteen eighties on one of my visits to the Netherlands with my parents, my father tried to introduce me to the Dutch speciality of “haring” (herring).
These small fish are filleted (the tail is left on) and the whole fillets emerged in finely chopped raw onion and some lemon.
This semi-cures the raw fish, which is then most popularly eaten in two ways: the first involves picking up the fillet by the tail with two fingers, raising your arm high in the air, tipping your head back, opening your mouth and disposing of the fillet of fish more or less in one go. The other most popular scenario is to have the fillet of “haring” served sandwich style in a small soft white bread roll, along with a dollop of the onions it has been perviously sitting in. As with the pervious method usually the tails of the haring have been left attached to the filet so the tail traditionally sticks out of one end of the bread roll.
By now, having read so far you are probably feeling one of two things: delight because this sounds like a delectable treat or revulsion because this all sounds more than a little disgusting.
I’m a foodie and even in my younger days I was not averse to trying a few new culinary dishes at least once (OK to be fair I have always drawn the line at offal, insects and anything that sounded more than a little wierd) and I also discovered that “trying new things” was sometimes the less than easy way to discover my multiple food allergies, after reactions and subsequent hospital visits. Some things apparently you have to learn the hard way and I lived to tell the tale.
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
So, harking back to my eighties Dutch visit, the haring season has just opened and my father has gleefully been down to the local fishmonger’s kiosk for a treat that has been absent from his diet since he emigrated to New Zealand. He has been looking forward to this a lot and so have his brothers and sisters that we are visiting and a handful of my cousins who have all gathered.
My Aunt’s and Uncles are busy me telling how they consider the first haring of the season the best so I am in for a treat.
The haring is unwrapped, I’m confronted with a rather strong smell of fish… now I like fish a lot, but this is raw and packed full of raw onion and a tad overwhelming. I tactfully negotiate that I take a small bite-sized piece rather than an entire fillet to try first.
Pinching one corner of the piece between two fingers I close my head back…. My father, mother, aunt’s, uncles and cousins do the same but with bigger pieces. I hear noises of culinary appreciation all around me. I haven’t joined them. Instead I’m standing there in panic thinking that this is the most disgusting, vile, awful thing I have ever tried to eat in my entire life, it’s smelly, slippery, I hate the taste and the texture and I’m now wondering how far I could spit it to get rid of it. I closed my eyes, ew, that just intensified the panic, I opened them again, my father is looking at me, telling me how good it is and holding out a bigger piece for me to take. I still don’t know how I can physically swallow the first piece.
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
In the end, since more of my relatives were now looking at me and it’s become clear that any attempt to sneakily eject the offending mouthful would be doomed to failure I did what I have never done before or since: I made one huge gulp and swallowed the piece of fish whole. Choking and gasping and trying not to wretch in the presence of company is never done with dignity, so my mother ended up thumping my back and handing me a glass of water.
“You need some practice” laughed my father, and offered me some more. I politely declined and admitted it “really wasn’t my thing“. He looked shocked and jokingly asked me if I was really his daughter? Certainly the rest of the family were also surprised and rather shocked that I didn’t adore this treat like they did.
Fast forward to the early 1990’s… I’ve met my Dutch husband to be and discovered that he’s a “haring” lover. He invites me to join him in a haring treat and I tell him about the nightmare taste experience etched into my memory. We make a pact: we have no secrets in our marriage with one exception: he’s most welcome to eat haring but please don’t do it around me, he has to brush his teeth five times before he kisses me next, I don’t want any sign that this slippery fish has passed his lips. We are both happy.
Now during the summer of 2012 I’m with my visiting Singaporean friend “Velvetine” in central Delft… there’s a fishmonger’ stall on the corner and haring to be tried. You can guess which delicacy she is excited about trying. I steel myself to take the photographs and look away as soon as I can. She’s more than delighted with the taste, …more power to her, but at least I won’t be kissing her later!
(photograph © Kiwidutch)
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