Markets and Mushrooms in Amsterdam (no not that kind!)

 Saturday mornings in Amsterdam there's an organic farmers market at the Noordermarkt on the west side of town. I've found quite a decent selection of organic and free range in the local food shops and supermarkets but it's not the same as a farmers market and we hadn't hit an organic market till this weekend.

Of course one must bike to the market.

Saturday mornings are nice and quiet.

Till you hit the market. You know your there because you can hear the music as you arrive.

There's meat, cheese and bread but also chocolates, teas and legumes.

 And a whole stall full of mushrooms, not the kind you get further in town, the kind you can feed to your kids.

Oh yes,  a nirvana of culinary mushrooms. It took me a while to take in the varieties and the huge quantities! The delicious smell of frying mushrooms and garlic from the stall's hotplate was amazing.

I settled on some miniature Japanese mushrooms and a hunk from the huge wild Dutch Eikhaas (that's just one and a few bits in that basket). Admittedly my family isn't quite as curious as I am when it comes to mushrooms but they are good sports, my last adventures with mushrooms had me trying a suspected morel from my backyard. This was it- a stunning mother of a morel;

I did a lot of surfing and looking and brought it to the local mushroom vendor at my old nearby market before I tried it.  I survived. I didn't feed it to my family of course. But I didn't see dancing  purple elephants or end up sick either. 

The mushrooms from the vendor at the market are quite safe I figure and a joy to find. My family is going to have to deal with future fungi experiments showing up at the dinner table - I will be trying a great many more of these babies in the months to come.

So what did I do with the mushrooms? I sauteed them with garlic, Spanish paprika and a splash of wine and serves with Irish grass fed bifstuk, mashed potatoes and fresh organic green beans also from the market. Not everyone loved the mushrooms but that's ok. Maybe next time!

Sint Maarten in the park

At the end of dinner tonight I hear my daughter humming. The tune is a Dutch children's song. I smile. She learned it back in Toronto but it's in her head because we'd been to the Sint Maarten parade in Vondelpark last night.

The parade is a casual procession of children carrying lanterns behind a band around the park. The lanterns are as varied as the people. We saw ones made of leaves, ones that looked like gnome house mushrooms, ones made from recycled milk jugs and even the older traditional jack-o-lanterns carried by a rope handle or in a arms.

The band played children's songs like the one my daughter was later humming, Het Matroosje, and jazzy (sometimes even a little raggy) tunes guided by two tall lanterns. The music was great, the mood serene as a huge mass of people walked in the lantern light with their kids, and sometimes their bikes too.

Later in an Italian restaurant we laughed as a bunch of kids came joyously through the door singing loudly, lanterns swinging expecting candy for their tune. Although the candy collecting is not part of the walk it is part of the door to door singing part of the evening's traditions. (Although usually done at the doors of peoples homes) The waiter, a non-dutch speaking Italian with a smattering of English, was quite ruffled by it and clearly did not have a clue why they were doing what they were doing. A group of American parents and their little kids who seemed to also have been at the parade and were sitting near where he was standing explained the custom in English and the need to give them candy for their efforts. He hastily grabbed the mints by the cash and doled them out as quick as he could, so very funny the whole restaurant enjoyed the spectacle.

Our ride home was a leisurely  bike ride down quite main streets with the kids perched on our back racks tired and full, holding their lanterns. My son looks forward to next year when he will know enough of the songs that he too can go door to door for candy.

I can't wait to hear him sing for it.

Grootjes from Amsterdam,
B