Dear reader,
The Dutch are known to be a very frugal people. There’s a reason, after all, why splitting the tab at a restaurant is called “Dutch treat.”
This frugality is an expression of a general tendency to sobriety – not in the drinking sense, but in the sense of being sober and valuing humility. It derives from their Calvinistic roots, even though half of the Dutch population is atheist.
Among recently-arrived foreigners, this frugality can come over as “cheap” or “miserly,” words with a much more negative connotation than “frugal.”
Food frugality
It’s in the realm of food and drink that this trait is most visible to visitors, especially visitors from the US, where servings are huge and soft drinks – already large – sometimes come with free refills.
Order a cola in a café here in the Netherlands, and you’re liable to get the smallest cola bottle you’ve ever seen: about 2/3 the size of a can of soda in the US. Order tea, and the cup is likely to be smallish, and it won’t even be very full. With your tea, you’ll almost always get a cookie: a very small one, and very plain.
Too much food
In my family in the US, we always cooked extra, especially when we had guests over for dinner. Perhaps this comes as a reaction to our family history of poverty: my grandparents emigrated as children from the shtetls of Eastern Europe to escape pogroms. Their families worked hard to make a place for themselves in the US. They continued to struggle in the Great Depression. In the post-war period both families pulled themselves out of poverty, and both my parents were able to attend college. Being able to be generous with food was a demonstration of love and well-being.
(I still remember how embarrassed I was as a teenager whenever we went to a restaurant with my grandmother. If there was any bread left in the breadbasket, she’d wrap it up in a napkin and stick it in her purse. I lived in dread that someone would see.)
Anyway, we always made too much food for guests. We knew it would be too much, but that was okay. The lesson was about hospitality: running out of anything when your guest might want seconds would be embarrassing. It was a risk not worth taking. Yet, at the same time as offering too much, we still avoided wasting any. We’d eat leftovers as a matter of course in the days that followed.
Dutch vs. international
This is something that has always puzzled my husband about me. We hold a New Year’s Day open house every year (except this year!), and I always prepare far too much food. I would feel like I’d let my guests down if we ran out of anything.
So instead of one batch of American chocolate chip cookies (which our Dutch guests love, but never bake for themselves), I bake two, along with three batches of muffins, two batches of brownies, two freshly baked loaves of bread, a huge vat of snert (Dutch pea soup) and far too much mulled cider. I make lots of nibbles of various sorts, which vary each year, but it’s always too much.
My husband rolls his eyes and tells me every year that I’m overdoing it. We’ve gotten to the point now after 30 years of marriage where I can just say “I know” and keep on baking.
I was once at a conference in Amsterdam which was attended by perhaps two or three hundred teachers from all over Europe and some from Africa and the Middle East as well. I was leading one of the workshops, and all the workshops had the same break times. During those breaks, all of the participants left the conference rooms to meet in a central location for coffee and a snack.
This is where it went wrong. It was an international audience in a Dutch venue. I let my group out a few minutes late. We went to get our coffee and there were - gasp! - no cookies!
No cookies! It was a disaster. People at these conferences expect a snack between sessions and there were none left.
Being a workshop leader and being able to speak Dutch, I went in search of someone in charge of food service. “The cookies are gone. Could you put more out please?”
The man looked at me, puzzled. “But we put out one per person. Where did they all go?”
Clearly, I’d let my group out too late. All of these international attendees, used to taking as much as they wanted in a conference context, had done just that. We were just out of luck. I told the man that he needed to make sure to put out more cookies in the next break.
This time, I let my group out a few minutes early so they got their cookies. But by the time all of the groups arrived, the cookies had all disappeared again. I doubt the food service had supplied even two cookies per person.
Again I alerted the manager that this wasn’t enough. Again this happened in the morning break on the second day. I explained to the manager that these people came from a variety of countries and that they expected an abundance of cookies. He just looked puzzled. Finally, at the last break of the second day, enough cookies appeared to provide as much as everyone wanted.
Having people to dinner – which we haven’t done in a long time now! – involves a bit of a tug-of-war with my husband over what to cook or, rather, how much. In his very Dutch view, you cook enough for everyone to have a meal. That’s it. No extra helpings, because they’ve had enough. The mere thought of not having an extra supply just in case fills me with anxiety.
In many ways I admire the Dutch tendency to frugality. They’re much less likely than Americans, in my experience, to flaunt their wealth by buying ostentatious cars, over-the-top houses or showy jewelry. I appreciate that.
But not when it comes to food! Give me a refillable cola, please. Use a big mug to serve my tea. And feel free to ask me for an extra serving if you’re at my house for a meal!
Met vriendelijke groeten, (with friendly greetings)
Rachel
P.S. I write about independent travel at Rachel’s Ruminations. Please join me there!