Cinnamon. Lots of cinnamon.

A “Gezelligheid” Dutch Christmas fair

For someone from India, which has a very diverse cuisine, the Netherlands needed to improve in that aspect. And I was very heartened when I heard someone else use my oft-used line of

“What Dutch cuisine, mashed potatoes and meat?”

This, despite munching on the one good thing you find in the Netherlands — the snacks. I fell in love with the kaassoufflé (literally, cheese souffle) and the Oorlong saus (A curious combo of mayo, peanut sauce, and onions) for the fries. However, all bets are off during December.

Enter Christmas Fairs.

From the first Christmas markt I got to visit in Delft, all the way until today four years later, the annual fairs have been one of my ‘to-dos’ every December. Among the festive cheers, the most important attraction is, most definitely, the winter delicacies.

Disclaimer — You get most of these even in supermarkets, but I am partial to the markets.

And that is where I fell in love with the various avatars of cinnamon, each a specialty unlike the other.

The Oliebollen Affair

The entry/exit of the market is almost always marked by that stall specially constructed during winter, replete with colorful lights, cardboard gnomes, and an assortment of oil-fried balls, named literally oliebollen.

By themselves, the oliebollen are the Dutch response to donuts (or was it the other way around?), oil-fried, fluffy, and sweet. Optionally, they are filled with custard or other creams, and then, heaped generously on the top, a dusting of cinnamon sugar. Each bite has just the right amount of soft and hard textures, a mixture of sweetness and spiciness from the cinnamon and sugar.

The stalls also have other worthies like churros, but the oliebollen scream ‘Christmas’ unlike these. A seasonal delicacy, one to try out.

And the perfect warm item to hold on to in the cold winter of the Netherlands, walking through the stores. That is where you might run into the treasure hunt, aided and abetted by cinnamon (again).

Say hello to Pepernoten.

If there’s one snack you must stock on before hibernating for the winter, go for these.

Pepernoten (also called kruidnoten, where ‘kruid’ literally translates to ‘spice’) are bite-sized cookie-like morsels and the must-have of Dutch winter festivities. I got caught in a Sinterklaas rally just this year at Rotterdam, where the participants were stuffing the pouches of kids with these small crisps of cheer, and, to my dismay, also throwing them around. I’m not too fond of food being wasted, so I had to assuage myself to think that it’s for the birds.

The traditional pepernoten carries a blend of our protagonist, cinnamon, along with its best friends — cloves, nutmeg, and ginger — to create the warmth sorely needed in the winter. But, the markets, and especially the supermarkets, have reinvented this one with a few iterations. Between chocolate-dipped (white, milk, dark) noten, and those covered by a range of other flavors (Just this winter, I tried banana, carrot cake, truffle, caramel-sea salt and another I am pretty sure is orange), this is nothing short of a treasure hunt.

Take as many as you can of these, and when you think you are done, you see the next big item.

A Speculaas Spectacle.

At first glance, despite the difference in shape, it might give an aroma that can be confused with pepernoten itself. After all, it’s a cinnamon-starrer yet again. But, one bite into the biscuit, and we are boarding a different flavor train. The speculaas have a snappier taste to them, thanks to the additional, well, speculaaskruiden, like cloves, white pepper, and then some.

Speculaaskruiden-infused chocolates and biscuits are available around the year in supermarkets, but the freshly made cookies out of a Christmas marktraam, oh boy.

Hope your oliebollen are done by now, or you’ll be overcrowding your hands.

You then go through the rest of the market, giving yourselves the experience of a traditional Dutch markt, tasting the usual varieties of cheese, snacks, and, of course, the stroopwaffels.

Then, it’s time to wash it down.

One for the throat, one for the soul.

I don’t drink alcohol, so I have a slightly different take here. But in general, you go for a pint of Glühwein, a mulled wine simmered with cinnamon sticks. I’ll probably walk next to you, blowing the steam off my winterthee.

The last entry in this edition of a Christmas market sojourn.

Gezelligheid indeed!

(Submitted as part of January prompt, thanks for tagging me Alec Zarenkiewicz)