Number of days in Amsterdam – 480-486
Number of days without a bike theft – 476-482
It would seem that I’m running perpetually behind on this blog, keeping you all abreast of our Amsterdam adventures, but it’s time for another push.
When I fall behind, it’s when I get buried by work and parenthood. Well, parenthood isn’t going anywhere soon, but work has the tendency to dry up occasionally, and the hustle of the freelancer continues, where I find myself spending more time convincing folks to give me money than I spend making money. It’s a frightening aspect, but the thoughts of the needs of the Kitten are the sort of thing that leads me to continue the hustle and playing the game.
The rain count is going away for awhile. It rains a lot here – you know this. But I think the rain count loses its impact when the posts encompass a week or so at a time.
Now where were we?
Roodbaars came in the crate this week. AKA redfish.
It’s an innocuous name, something I was very familiar with, or so I thought. I’d had blackened redfish before, it’s a very common ingredient in Cajun cooking.
There’s but one problem – the redfish I had wasn’t this redfish. When you have a very common name like this, it turns out that lots of people have their own ideas of what is what.
So I started digging. And the more I dug, the less I knew what we had.
It turns out that almost every country with a coastline seems to have their own version of the redfish. In the US, it can refer to red snapper, red drum or ocean perch. In Europe it can refer to the ocean perch, Norwegian haddock, rosefish or any sort of a wide array of snappers.
Want to further confuse things? Ocean perch and Norwegian haddock are the same thing.
We simply decided we had ocean perch and prepared it accordingly. It was good.
We also had salsify.
Now to me, salsify sounds like a verb, as in to say “it’s time to salsify,” thay may imply you are spicing things up, or somehow taking something and making it into a salsa, or into something salsa-like.
Instead, this is a root vegetable that tastes like artichokes.
Incorporating into the local food culture since 2011 – that’s us.
We also took part in another local tradition, visiting de Bijenkorf during their big sale, and while there were great deals to be had (including a special present for the Kitten’s upcoming birthday), I’ll just say – NEVER AGAIN!
It was more packed than usual, piled up on all floors with rude, shoving shoppers. I carried the Kitten in her stroller up and down the stairs rather than deal with the shoving masses at the lifts (most shoving into the lift “just because,” rather than having any need to avoid the escalator. Seriously, why force your way into a crowded smelly lift when there is an escalator RIGHT THERE! It takes more energy to pile into a lift like this than to step on the escalator and step off again a few moments later. Seriously. Just… seriously.
Never again.
We did manage to catch an image of what may be the lamest toy ever, though.
“Mom, I’m bored.”
“Why don’t you go play with your bread basket action play set?”
Ryan!
Wait!
If she’s a future foodie, the bread basket action play set might just be indispensable!
My grandbabies have loved their fake food, fake kitchen, fake shopping cart, fake pots & pans & plates … all of it. You have no idea! I’ve been fed more plastic broccoli, rubber cupcakes, and wooden pizza than you can shake a fake rolling pin at! It’s not just a foodie thing, it’s a nurturing thing, and a community thing! And the make-believe that happens with fake food during the wobbly years leads up to side-by-side REAL kitchen activities with grown-ups during the steady-enough-for-the-step-stool years. I promise.
AND WHEN IT RAINS FOR FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN A ROW, YOU CAN HAVE FAKE FOOD PICNICS ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR!!
Please reconsider your position on the bread basket action play set!