The way we eat

And a delicious Dutch snack.

One of the reasons I love to cook, is because I find it purely meditative.

There is this false preconception that meditation must look a certain way. You have to be sitting (preferably in a perfect, mess free spot), your eyes must be closed, your mind must be empty. THAT’S THE ONLY WAY IT WORKS. Apparently.

Anyone with a regular meditation practice will know this is not the case. There is no right or wrong way to meditate. I often find myself slipping into this state of bliss while I’m walking or swimming. Particularly when I’m hiking up a hill; I’ll tell you right now I’m very much concentrating on my breath in that moment.

Sometimes cooking is noisy and distracting. I’ll often call a friend or family member to chat to, or listen to a podcast or tunes. But oftentimes, I sit with silence as I piece a meal together.

This is particularly nice with a favourite dish, one you’ve cooked so many times that no recipe is needed. It’s all in your head; it’s muscle memory. You go through the motions without really needing to think. Your mind can settle elsewhere; picking apart a problem, or thinking about nothing at all.

The thing is, and I don’t know about you, but while I often cook without distraction, I don’t always grant the same grace to eating.

My meals are mostly consumed on the go; at my desk during the working week, behind a book or in front of the telly in the evening. I’m not thinking about the food that I’m consuming, that often has had so much effort put into it.

There’s certainly no appreciation of the plants that grew, the animals that once breathed the same air as all of us, that have now through a scarily disconnected food chain, ended up on my plate.

Really, all that’s going on is some mindless shoveling.

In the interest of ritual building, I’ve been trying to, in turn, build a little intent into my evening meals. I grant myself one evening a week where I can catch up on a TV show (maybe one day I’ll finally finish season 2 of The White Lotus), but every other is now eaten at the dining room table. On nice place mats, to boot.

If my boyfriend is home, we participate in the equally wild ritual of sharing stories about our day. If I’m home alone, I put on a record, an easy hack for staying present in the moment as you have to flip the damn thing over once it’s run through four or so songs.

And the result? I chew my food, rather than inhale it. I savour what I’m eating. I think about where it came from. I take the dog for a short, digestion-aiding walk after I’m done. My record collection might be growing as a probably fully predictable knock-on effect. It’s all perfectly splendid.

What’s cooking around the world: The Netherlands

And just like that, ten weeks have passed and we’re at the last stop on our culinary journey around Europe. As we’ve explored both mains and desserts, it seemed high time to throw a simple snack into the mix. An appetiser, if I may?

So, we’re making bitterballen.

What is bitterballen? Well as I understand it, they’re sort of the Dutch version of nuts or crisps at a bar. That is, a savoury snack you can easily pair with alcohol. This is my own interpretation, so I reserve the right to be wrong about this.

I had a great time eating these while sitting by the Amstel in Amsterdam, sipping on sparkling wine during a heat wave, watching local residents throw themselves into the canal to cool off. Now that the sun is back out in my part of Australia, it seems a good idea to make these yummy treats.

What you will need

For the gravy

• 120g of butter

• 1 cup plain flour

• 3 cups of homemade beef stock (sub veggie stock)

• quarter of an medium-sized onion, chopped small

• 1 grated carrot (optional, I omitted)

• 250 grams beef mince (sub chopped mushroom)

• salt

• pepper

• 1 tsp nutmeg

For the bread batter

• 1/2 cup plain flour

• 3-4 eggs

• 2 cups bread crumbs

• vegetable oil

Notes:

• you can greatly enhance the flavour of this dish by making your own stock. Grab beef bones from your butcher or local farmers’ market. Simmer with an array of veggies for a few hours. My gravy was concocted using a bone broth I made following this recipe.

• likewise, make your own breadcrumbs! Save the ends of loaves of bread in the freezer. Once you have a stack, shred them a little by hand, lay on a tray and bake for around 15-20 mins in the oven at 180° until they’re a bit crispy. Blend in a food processor or… blender I guess, and then use as needed.

• meat-free mates you can make a veg version of this. I expect mushroom would make a good substitute and you can throw in eggplant too. And use veggie stock instead of beef. Try this recipe on for size.

This is how much butter this recipe calls for. We are not messing around here.

What you will need to do

1. Melt the butter in a medium-sized saucepan on low heat, until it’s a little bit bubbly. Take off the heat and slowly stir in the flour (1/8s worked for me) ensuring there are no lumps, creating a roux.

2. Place over low heat again. Bit by bit, add the stock, continually stirring to keep things smooth.

3. Throw in the chopped onion, grated carrot if using and beef mince. Stir for a couple more minutes, then add the pepper, salt and nutmeg. I recommend cooking the beef beforehand, but if you FORGET LIKE MYSELF, you’ll just need to leave it on heat a little longer (five minutes-ish) until it’s cooked through.

4. Turn off the heat and allow the mixture to cool down, before transferring to a container and popping in the fridge for a few hours. Overnight is ideal.

5. Once this time has elapsed, pull the gravy out of the fridge. It should have solidifed somewhat.

6. Spread baking paper across two trays.

7. Start balling up your bitterballen. An icecream scoop is great for this, to achieve a ball-ish shape.

8. After you’ve rolled all your balls, pop them back into the fridge, so they can further solidify.

9. Around half an hour or more later, heat the vegetable oil in a large pan (I half filled mine and it worked a treat). Be very careful navigating the hot oil! IT IS DANGEROUS.

10. Set up your station for the breading. Pour the breadcrumbs and flour onto separate plates. Crack the eggs into a bowl and whisk together.

11. Roll the balls into the flour, then dip into the egg mixture, then bread crumbs. Place on the other baking-papered tray. Once you have about five or six ready to go, pop them into the preheated frying pan, for 4-5 minutes. Turn over at the halfway mark.

12. Fry these babies ‘til they’re a nice golden colour.

These are best eaten freshly fried, dipped or smothered in hot mustard. Yum.

DELICIOUS.

So funny thing – I’ve advised providing plenty of time here for the roux to set because I definitely could have given mine longer (I was cooking these last night, what of it). They were a little sloppy and apparently didn’t feel like consolidating themselves into perfect little balls.

Instead, they sort of turned into lumps.

Bitterballen, more like bitterflatten amirite. *high fives the air*

Very reminiscent of…

Oh well. They still taste good.

Some recommendations

Here are a few cool things I’ve been engaging with this last fortnight, that I think you might like.

• Read: Everyone’s got a guilty pleasure and mine happens to be trashy thrillers. Although I didn’t love her second and best known book The Woman in Cabin 10, Ruth Ware’s subsequent novels have been jolly good fun to devour. Her latest Zero Days is no exception; I took it to bed with me, intending to read a couple of chapters and ended up finishing it that night. Oops! Non, je ne regrette rien.

• Listen: I found a rather battered copy of Fox and I: An Uncommon Friendship by Catherine Raven in a favourite free library last week. I’d read it a few years ago, but didn’t have a copy of my own. A friend then saw this on my bookshelf and recommended the ABC Conversations interview with the author. The story is basically about a biologist living in Montana who befriends a local fox. I dunno about you, but I love stories about people eschewing society in some regard and settling in with the natural world, especially if it involves forming relationships with trees or wild animals. Very much recommend listening to the interview, reading the book – or both!

• Eat: With the weather warming up, I’ve been getting into an old favourite and beloved millennial tradition; smashed avocado. Here’s the perfect recipe for this delicious mix. Take half an avo, mash it up. Pour in a couple of tablespoons of apple cider vinegar (perhaps homemade) and add salt and pepper to taste. This is perfectly fine on its own, but if you want to go next level, mix in some goat cheese (Australian readers, I thoroughly recommend the use of Meredith Diary Goat Cheese here). Mash it all up and spread across fresh toast. This is also lovely with some pepitas mixed in, for a bit of crunch. You’re welcome. 👩‍🍳💋

Thanks for reading. What’s Cooking will be back in your inbox in a fortnight.

‘Til then, stay well and well-fed.

-Celine

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