Tag: utrecht

lekker ijs en goede prijs (or: IJssalon Vorst, Utrecht)

2014-05-18 15.29.55
Vorst handmade ice cream – with organic milk and lots of fruit, according to the sign. (you can taste it, too)

Utrecht is a good city for ice cream; lots of people have their favorite place to go to. Mine was IJssalon Vorst, in-between Wilhelminapark and the University College Utrecht. On a nice day I would stop by for a scoop — two or three if I was with good company — and then go for a stroll around the park.

The scoop would be long gone before I even walked half a lap.

~

The sign outside doesn’t lie. Their sorbets have heel veel fruit, and they put all sorts of spices into the ice cream. You’ll find combinations like orange & clover, coffee & ginger — ingredients you’d never think about mixing together, but they create all sorts of tingly sensations. And at one euro per scoop, it’s one of the best deals in town.

The flavors change every week.

Photo from UUT’s “Ijs-Tijd” review of IJssalon Vorst. That’s the owner behind the counter. The store looks much the same as when I went there.

I was a regular customer for a while, but I only had a chat with the owner during my last day in Utrecht. Jan is his name.

I don’t know his greatest hopes and fears, the company he keeps, or the thoughts he thinks on the slow days.  (How funny that you can see a person regularly and still not know these sorts of things). All I know is that Jan lives and breathes ice cream, and that he likes to get other people excited about all of its possibilities. He’s very good at that.

I was snooping around the Facebook page and saw that he was recently rated the #1 ice cream maker in Utrecht. Gee whiz, some may think. Less than a year in the business and he’s already top banana in town.

But that’s not exactly the case. He’s been honing his ice cream skills for years. He said something about making ice cream in Paris, and some other places before this. Ice cream is his profession, and he takes great pride in it. He’s unafraid to experiment, to improve his craft. To combine old flavors and make something new, nearly every week.

(an approach like that will take you far in life, ice cream or not)

Jiro Ono, master sushi chef, says he has grand visions of sushi when he sleeps. I wonder if Jan has the same.

–

The ice cream business is tough. Despite being near Wilhelminapark where all sorts of people and families stroll around, a lot of the business comes from the university students studying down the street at Prins Hendriklaan. What to do then, when all those students pack up and leave for their hometowns or go on vacation for the summer?

“We’ll just have to see what happens.”

fiets pomp

You could say that I took my bike for granted like many husbands do to their wives, or vice versa — that its tires were fine and dandy even if they were squished to the floor, and that the squeaky chain was just a minor offense to the ears. I can still balance on the bike after all, right?

On Saturday, the rear wheel became flat.

But rather than wagging my finger and telling you that it’s important to patch holes before they become bigger, let me tell you a story about how my negligence was rewarded in an odd way.

I was walking my bike from campus to the city center where the closest working bike pump I knew about would be. The stroll isn’t too bad as the city itself is gorgeous, but there is a strong sense of envy present when you see everyone else zipping along on their bicycle while you slog away.

But my luck turned around on the intersection of Prins Hendriklaan and Jan van Scorelstraat, just fifteen minutes into the trip. I had barely finished crossing the street before a Dutch gentleman lounging outside noticed my flat tire and told me I could find a working fiets pomp inside the bar.

He tells me the magic phrase to use:
Heeft u een fiets pomp, alstublieft?

And sure enough, the bartender pulled one out of the closet. And soon enough, everyone who was sitting outside the bar was helping out, squeezing the tire and checking for air holes as I pumped. I thought it was magical.

It was 7 o’clock and I hadn’t eaten dinner yet. I could have easily just ended it there, say my thank yous and bid my farewells. But this kind of luck doesn’t happen every day, so I thought I’d stay for a while.

Two hours later I’ve been introduced to all the dogs that live inside the pub, and caught a glimpse into the daily lives of the people who come by to relax during the weekend. One guy pulled out the rock he keeps in his right pocket — a small piece of obsidian — one of the 1000+ rocks he keeps in his collection in his home around the corner. He’s still looking for a deep red colored one.

My glass is empty for less than ten minutes before another man tells me:
“I’m getting you a drink. Beer, pepsi, doesn’t matter. I’m getting you a drink.”

Oh, fine by me. Dank je wel. I feel I can use the informal je instead of the formal u at this point.

~

I sent the man who noticed my flat tire a message on Facebook later that night. Is this a regular evening for him — helping out random international students and having drinks with them? Are all the Dutch this helpful?

The man replied: “I have lived in this area for years, [but] I spent my childhood in small villages in Gelderland, where you greet strangers and help them if needed. So, if you ask me ‘Dutch helpfulness?’, I’d say it is rural culture. I left the countryside, but it never left me.”

And then he ended it with a winky face.