The return of Condiment Grrl and the Fritessaus!

First up, I must apologize for my blogging deliquency. My day job sent me away on a key mission overseas to the land of bounteous mayonnaise, marijuana and bicycles -- the Netherlands.

Please note, for those of you from said place of employment who may browse here, that I engaged in only two of the three national pasttimes listed above -- bicycles and mayonnaise. Although the mayonnaise (or fritessaus) is rich enough that it should be against the law.

I have a series of blog posts planned for this week, each of which explore a different condiment aspect of my trip abroad. But today I wanted to focus on the thing that added 4 pounds to my weight during my travels -- fritessaus.

Exhibit A (actually, the only exhibit so I don't know what you call that)

Of course, I barely took any photos of the sights, just lots of photos of the condiments. I should have been an important photojournalist, except for that whole I suck at photography thing. So, I was blown away by two things in this aisle at the Super de boer:

- The amazing variety of fritessauses

- The giantness of the fritessaus jugs. They're HUGE.

It's like, how much fritessaus can one nation go through? Every single meal I had there, it didn't matter what kind of restaurant, the waitress would place a bowl of french fries in the center of the table and next to it, a little pot of fritessaus.

And let me explain a little bit about fritessaus. At first taste, the creaminess and texture remind you of mayonnaise, but the flavor is richer, deeper. I couldn't tell you what made it different, what the flavor was, but I can say that it was like they took the best of what makes mayonnaise taste good and kicked it up a notch. It was so good, that even when I knew I was waiting for some yummy carpaccio (man, they love their raw meat over there) or some crispy kipfilet (chicken), I would find my hand buried in the fries, then swiping again and again through the fritessaus.

I know many of you are thinking, "Well, was her hand acting of its own accord?" And the answer my friends is "Yes." Maybe it was the blue skies, the canals, the cobblestones, but it was a hunger beyond reason that drew me to the fritessaus. And though it is my hands that commit the crime, my thighs are the innocent bystanders that pay the price.

Another interesting fact -- there are barely any overweight or fat people in Holland. Really, hardly any, even with the apparent consumption of jugs and jugs of fritesaus. A clue might be what I referenced in my first paragraph - bicycles. Lots and lots and lots of bicycles that people ride everywhere. And the walking through places like the photo below.

So, my thighs could get moving and help serve the time the hand caused with fritessaus consumption. And now, here's a photo of the city I was in, Eindhoven.

More later on the international condiment situation.

Condiment Grrl