No, whatever you say, a person is an animal...
I saw Rembrandt in two museums, and saw Vermeer in person for the first time... Also in the Mauritz and the Reichsmuseum... And Van Gogh is a whole separate, special museum...
And I remember, painfully and with profuse salivation, Dutch herring. I'll spell it with respect, with an "ё" (sound). It's incredibly tender, both in taste and sensation.
We didn't arrive during herring season; it's in June. So, as described in the guidebooks, there weren't any "haring" stalls at every tourist intersection. But once we stumbled upon one on Albert Kaupmarkt, my keen eye would always be on the lookout for herring stalls in the most unexpected places. For example, by the church walls in the eastern docks area.
There it lies (the herring), the dear, in a row on an oval platter, expertly separated from the backbone and rib bones, but with the tail intact. You're supposed to grab it by the tail and carefully lower it into your mouth, preferably eating it whole in one sitting. I did this on my last day in Holland, in Delft, although I didn't manage to swallow it all in one sitting. I need more practice.
Herring is served in three ways.
Method 1, fast food, for tourists
It's placed, like a cradle, in a soft white bun cut in half, sprinkled with finely chopped onions, and a couple of pickled cucumber slices complete the ikebana. The bun has a delicate flavor that doesn't overpower the delicate, lightly salted herring, and the dough is airy, so the taste buds can reach it quickly and easily.
Method 2, intermediate.
Place the herring on a tray, carefully cut it into pieces with a very sharp knife, ensuring the shape is preserved, and top with finely chopped onion and cucumber. Instead of a fork, insert a toothpick with a small red, white, and blue Dutch flag.
Method 3, the original one :))
The herring, tail on, is placed on a tray, sprinkled with onion, and that's it... No forks or toothpicks required. And this herring costs a whole euro less than the first two options. That is, not 2,5, but 1,5 euros. And it's the one you're supposed to swallow whole, smacking your lips with gusto, ensuring the contact area between the herring and the pimples above is as large as possible.
And no beer at these stalls. And rightly so, as beer isn't as delicate and full-bouqueted in flavor as "haring."
True, Yurochka and I, like Russians, grabbed some herring by the church using method #1 and ran, drooling, to the nearest bench on the canal bank. There, we pulled a young jenever from our backpack and...
Ah, it's good to live in the Dutch country...
I saw Rembrandt in two museums, and saw Vermeer in person for the first time... Also in the Mauritz and the Reichsmuseum... And Van Gogh is a whole separate, special museum...
And I remember, painfully and with profuse salivation, Dutch herring. I'll spell it with respect, with an "ё" (sound). It's incredibly tender, both in taste and sensation.
We didn't arrive during herring season; it's in June. So, as described in the guidebooks, there weren't any "haring" stalls at every tourist intersection. But once we stumbled upon one on Albert Kaupmarkt, my keen eye would always be on the lookout for herring stalls in the most unexpected places. For example, by the church walls in the eastern docks area.
There it lies (the herring), the dear, in a row on an oval platter, expertly separated from the backbone and rib bones, but with the tail intact. You're supposed to grab it by the tail and carefully lower it into your mouth, preferably eating it whole in one sitting. I did this on my last day in Holland, in Delft, although I didn't manage to swallow it all in one sitting. I need more practice.
Herring is served in three ways.
Method 1, fast food, for tourists
It's placed, like a cradle, in a soft white bun cut in half, sprinkled with finely chopped onions, and a couple of pickled cucumber slices complete the ikebana. The bun has a delicate flavor that doesn't overpower the delicate, lightly salted herring, and the dough is airy, so the taste buds can reach it quickly and easily.
Method 2, intermediate.
Place the herring on a tray, carefully cut it into pieces with a very sharp knife, ensuring the shape is preserved, and top with finely chopped onion and cucumber. Instead of a fork, insert a toothpick with a small red, white, and blue Dutch flag.
Method 3, the original one :))
The herring, tail on, is placed on a tray, sprinkled with onion, and that's it... No forks or toothpicks required. And this herring costs a whole euro less than the first two options. That is, not 2,5, but 1,5 euros. And it's the one you're supposed to swallow whole, smacking your lips with gusto, ensuring the contact area between the herring and the pimples above is as large as possible.
And no beer at these stalls. And rightly so, as beer isn't as delicate and full-bouqueted in flavor as "haring."
True, Yurochka and I, like Russians, grabbed some herring by the church using method #1 and ran, drooling, to the nearest bench on the canal bank. There, we pulled a young jenever from our backpack and...
Ah, it's good to live in the Dutch country...
