A link to a list called “you know you’re Dutch when” came to my attention this week, and I laughed and laughed as I read it. I laughed even more when I read the last line:
And finally, you know you’re Dutch when..
You’re laughing along with this list because you can relate to most it!
With a last name like Koopmans, few would be in doubt. But I swear, my mom is of British descent!
I grew up saying things like, “If you ain’t Dutch, you ain’t much!” and putting chocolate sprinkles (hagelslag) on open-faced buttered bread.
My mother saved aluminum foil, ziploc bags, plastic and glass containers that food came in, and washed out milk bags to freeze food in. You could pretty much guarantee that most of the yogurt and sour cream containers in the fridge did NOT contain yogurt or sour cream.
I draw the line at milk bags, but I do all the rest.
I have a hard time throwing out leftovers, even when there are only a few spoonfuls of corn left in the bowl.
I put water in EVERY empty food jar (spaghetti sauce, jam, mayonnaise) and shake it! When I was a kid, we used to put milk in empty jam jars and shake them to make all of the leftover jammy goodness into a sort of fruity mikshake.
We had a birthday calendar in our bathroom growing up. I don’t think the names were written in capital letters, but they were there, with the year they were born (or married) written in brackets beside their name.
I also have trouble finding hats that fit, but I think that’s because of my hair. It’s big. (see profile photo)
I don’t know what I’d do without my special tool for cutting cheese (though they’re not exclusively Dutch – the Swedes and Norwegians lay claim to them as well).
And then there are the delicious bits about being a Dutchie (mmm Dutchies!):
- Gouda cheese!
- “Paper” cookies
- Tai tai!
- Butter on Rusks!
- Meatball soup… what did we call that again?
Every New Year’s, I think perhaps it’s finally time for me to break out the deep fryer for my boyfriend’s family or my friends. But honestly, who wants to be up to their elbows in hot grease on New Year’s Eve?! One of these days, I will perhaps host my own party and pre-prepare the batter and dishes of icing sugar, and fatten everyone up with deep-fried balls of dough and apples and raisins (optional). Mmmmm.
I also have facecloths that I can put my whole hand into. All the better for “washing up,” which is a must-do every night before you go to bed. Or at least that’s what was expected of me when I was 3 and visited Holland with my family.
Okay, so I’m pretty Dutch. I don’t identify with EVERYTHING on that list, but enough of it. And I’m feeling proud of my heritage.
Dank je wel.