Say Cheese!

Think Holland, and several iconic notions should come to mind. Windmills, of course, wooden shoes, tulips. Second round thoughts brings out chocolate and cheese. Now, if your thoughts don't register cheese when you think of The Netherlands, you obviously require some gentle education. Cheese is Holland's claim to cuisine fame, and rightly so. This is a dairy country rich in history and tradition of cheese making. And cheese is what I want to talk about today.

Oh, Cheese,
Wonderful cheese,
Marvellous cheese,
Glorious cheese.*

I love cheese.

Twice each week, Leiden hosts a market in the city center. I have yet to find it's equal in size and charm nearby my home in The Hague. Open stalls filled with foods, flowers, clothing, fabric, sundries, snacks and just nearly anything you can imagine. It's a grand affair filling both sides of the canal streets behind city hall.While we were living in Leiden, I quickly made it a habit to shop at market on Saturdays, using the day to gather fresh produce, flowers, nuts and yes, cheese. In addition, often on a Wednesday you could find me strolling the streets and combing the scaled down market stalls for a rotisserie cooked chicken, or some fresh fish for dinner. I love shopping at market. I love the sights, the sounds, the smells, and certainly, the savings.

It was at the Leiden market we found our favorite Dutch cheese. Sold from a red-awning stall, it is called Assumburger and as far as I can tell is farmed locally, marketed and sold only at open markets such as Leiden's. I have searched the cheese shops, the grocery stores and other village markets and have not tripped across it again.

So I still travel to Leiden's market on a regular basis, just to fetch this cheese. I don't mind the extra bit of travel to get my hands on it, because, well, for one thing, this is who sells it to me:

Answer honestly, wouldn't you travel to Leiden to be waited on by such a one as this?

No matter. I would.

And I do.

However, whether he or one of the other guys assists me, I place my order "A kilo of Assumburger please" and he expertly rolls the wheel from the shelf and places it upon the cutting table.

First he carves a small piece from the block and extends it on his knife offering me a taste. I never refuse.

Then without a moment's hesitation slides the cutting wire into place estimating the measure and slices through the paraffin shell downward through the soft, fragrant cheese.

Quick as you please he tosses the wedge onto the scale and invariably he is right on the mark with its weight. He looks to me for a nod of approval. My face always registers awe over this particular skill.

Lastly, he whisks a special cheese paper from the stack and expertly folds it around my selection, offering it to me with a gentle 'alstublieft'.

I reply with a 'Haartstikke bedankt' for the cheese and the show. He grins.
It gets me every time, and he knows I'll be back. For his smile, sure, but mostly for my cheese.

Oh, Cheese!
Magical cheese,
Wonderful cheese,
Marvellous cheese,
Fabulous cheese,
Beautiful cheese,
Glorious cheese!*

*My apologies to Lionel Bart, the lyricist for Oliver!, for the liberties taken here with his song, but I can't help the thought that if the orphaned boys had Dutch cheese on the menu, they mightn't have been so hungry.