What is Holland famous for? Tulips, bikes, coffeeshops and the red light districts. Cheeses are not on the list of things that would come to mind. So when we see “Gouda” like the name of the cheese on the map, we decide to go on and visit it.
Unfortunately, we have started writing the travel diary but, for now, it doesn’t have a name yet; something tells me that today we’ll find the right idea…
“We went to the city of the best cheese in Holland!
It’s very pretty, with a large central square where there the market used to be.
In the middle of the square there is the most beautiful town hall in Holland (and with good reason). We went inside and it was truly majestic, with the Flemish walls and the late Gothic style of the building. Outside there was a carillon that two old men wisely illustrated to us as well as telling us about the war and having been in a concentration camp. One of these gentlemen also told us that he considers himself a citizen of Europe and we must think of ourselves as citizens of the world!
We visited the city and a cheese factory where we tasted two hundred types of gouda, then we returned to Delft and had a tour of the pottery factory. We bought a tile with a ship to hang in Bruttone’s house.
For dinner we went downtown and, after wandering for a while, we eventually found a medieval restaurant where we could eat typical dishes for 19€. There was no light, not even cutlery, there was a bowl with water and lemon to wash your hands. The food didn’t arrive so we started eating the starter… a loaf of bread with some garlic sauce. The bread was warm and fresh so we basically ran out of it. After the soup we were full but they also brought us a plate with ribs and bacon, one with chicken, one with ribs and mustard, some “papà” potatoes (with the peel) and some vegetables. We barely tasted each dish before we both started feeling unwell. How sad, the menu wasn’t finished yet.
Best thing of the day: where we got the cheese we had the chance to see and pet some newborn calves; they are very thin!
There was one that wobbled and was struggling to stand… Well, a tiny, little cow could fit in the car, right?
At the tourist information office, we decide to ask the clerk the most important info of all: where do locals, and not tourists, buy cheese? I'm aware that if back home someone asked me the same question, I'd just send them to the supermarket, but apparently she liked us and she gives us directions to a local dairy farm. The ``come on, we can fit a cow in the car`` supporter slept all the way, while we were crossing herds of cows.
We arrive and the shop is a rectangle of 13x4 feet, with two shelves filled with dozens of cheeses that basically taste all the same if it wasn't for the aromas they put into the dough. ``
