Sometimes I wish I had the refined manners of a French Madame. She eats an éclair without getting any pastry cream on her dress – dabs her perfectly red-colored lips and continues her journey elegant and flawless.

Unfortunately, I prefer to eat with my hands and won’t receive the award for ‘refined table manners’ anytime soon. There is simply not a lot of restraint. This has everything to do with my unstoppable eagerness to discover new places, flavors, and stories. Not the stories about a new hot spot in town, or the El Bullis of this world. No, I’d rather dive into the smokehouse of a barbecue joint in small-town North Carolina, or drink Japanese rice wine in a family restaurant in Osaka. The result is always the same: two oily hands, a messy notepad, and a delicious memory.

Afterward, I capture those experience in words. I’ve written for Dutch magazines (Elle Eten, Bouillon, Food Inspiration Magazine) and occasionally for Dutch newspapers (, Parool, regional newspapers).

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