Last weekend, I discovered that there was a food festival in Haarlem – one more item to add to the not-particularly-rapidly-growing List of Reasons to Leave Amsterdam at Weekends. And so, determined to give Haarlem its full opportunity to impress me, I decided to make a day of it. I arrived in time for lunch and a stroll round the market housed in the Grote Markt – a square dominated by the cathedral towering above it. The stunning weather might have increased my general feeling of optimism, but it struck me that the colours and exuberance of the market were redolent of the French markets we idealise so readily. The flower stall, for instance: I have no idea of the amount of climate change-inducing heat, light and irrigation required to produce to many variously-hued tulips in early February but… well, I’ve never been much of an environmentalist. And the food stalls were just as impressive. I was pretty low on funds so I allowed myself only to buy my trusty parsnips and not to indulge in the shiny red strawberry tarts or pungent olives with whose odour one has a love-hate relationship. But I did resolve next time to go armed with plenty of cash and those amazingly expansive string bags, and arrange a dinner party to coincide with my trip.
Having exhausted the market and local kitchen shops (the Manolo Blahniks of coffee machines, Francis Francis, sat tantalisingly in the window flashing its discount at me – €450 reduced from €569 – I may yet cave in), I found my way to the actual food festival, which was held in some conference rooms just off the main square. Its concept was to showcase the talents of various local restaurants, each of which had set up a stall selling various ‘tasting plates’ in exchange for what looked like casino chips. In order to purchase your new plastic money you had to pay a €10 entrance fee followed by €2 per chip, that could be exchanged for both food and drinks. My eye (and nose, and mouth) was immediately drawn to the people taking careful cuts off a leg of cured pork, spooning quenelles out of a bowl of rillettes, shaving slivers off truffles and drizzling thick, sweet, smoked balsamic vinegar over cheese. The tasting plate was excellent, especially coupled with a glass of the good-quality house merlot. Moving on, I tried various antipasti and a kind of chocolate truffle on a stick, which tasted better than it sounds. I’ve heard that Haarlem puts on an outdoor food festival in summer, without the entrance fee, which I would be interested to experience, not least because I felt that by the end of my evening I’d had not a lot of food (standing up and without service) for quite a lot of money.
My advice, however, is this: don’t wait for a food festival to visit Haarlem. The markets and shops alone are enough to keep a foodie entertained for hours, and a good stroll doesn’t cost you a cent.
