Gastronomy can sometimes become a weapon, even if it is double-edged. Authoritarian states have used it —and still use it— to subject citizens to their orders and whims. But the towns have also turned cooking into a form of resistance with which to put an end to these impositions. In the Netherlands, in the autumn of 1944, the liberation from the Nazis was wreaking havoc on the population. The great famine, aggravated by a freezing winter, was appeased with the use of an ingredient that now decorates or stars in haute cuisine dishes: tulips.
Many Dutch survivors of World War II have a story about tulip bulbs, served in the form of a soup back then. The bulbs already had a long history in the country as a commercial crop, being one of the most valuable products of the time. However, the idea of ​​eating tulips was ridiculous.
But the winter of 1944, known as Hongerwinter (Hunger Winter, in Dutch), was a time when desperate measures were taken. Months earlier, in September of that same year, Dutch railway workers tried to disrupt the movement of Nazi troops and supplies by stopping trains across the country. In retaliation, the Third Reich, under the command of Adolf Hitler, blocked food supplies arriving by sea.
Added to the revenge of the Nazis was a freezing winter, one of the coldest in memory in the Netherlands. The country’s main rivers and canals froze, and with the entire rail system paralyzed, there was no way to transport goods to the most densely populated cities, such as Rotterdam, Amsterdam or The Hague.
This critical situation gave rise to a great famine, especially in the western urban areas of the country. Energy intake dropped dramatically, from 1,800 kilocalories per person per day in May 1944, to barely 500 kcal in February 1945 (at the hardest time, the average ration was 340 kilocalories per day). It is estimated that, until May of that year, between 20,000 and 25,000 Dutch citizens died of malnutrition.
To survive, the population found ways to stretch the little that was available, turning hitherto unimaginable products into cooking ingredients. The broth was replaced by water with Maggi (a seasoning containing various spices), and the curry became flour or some other starchy binder colored with yellow food colouring.
The first application given to the tulip in the kitchen was to make a kind of coffee, which barely contained coffee beans and to which barley or rye, chicory, green peas and tulip bulbs were added. The latter were dried into flour and, when roasted, gave the drink a deep nutty flavor.
The tulip thus infiltrated coffee cups, but the Dutch were still skeptical about eating them. But when temperatures dropped further and food supplies ran out in the dead of winter, the Dutch government sought desperate solutions. And, despite the fact that the western region of the country grew few vegetables, it did have abundant fields of tulips.
The bulbs of this plant were rich in energy and nutrients and easily accessible, which was essential for survival. But, since the citizens did not see them with good eyes, the government faced the challenge of convincing the entire population to eat tulips. Flyers, cooking demos and even recipes were published in local magazines.
One of the recipes for tulip bulb soup from that time, preserved by the Dutch historian Christianne Musers, indicated the following method of preparation: “Peel the tulip bulbs, cut them in half and remove the yellow germ and the hard and soft parts. bad. Chop the onion and fry it with oil and curry substitute until light brown. Add water and bring the soup to a boil. Grate the cleaned bulbs over the boiling liquid. Cook some more while stirring and don’t forget to add a little bit of salt”.
As can be seen from this preparation, the bulbs contain an allergen: the compound called tulipalin A. This is found mainly in the outer layer, but also in the stem, leaves and petals. Bulb growers were already aware of this inconvenience, as they often suffered from a dermatitis caused by contact with these plants, known as “tulip fingers”. For this reason, the Dutch also had to be informed about how to clean and cut the bulbs well if they wanted to use them as food, as well as indicating which varieties were edible, to avoid serious indigestion.
Despite initial resistance, by late winter the locals were boiling bulbs in syrup, grinding them into flour for bread and crackers, making potato fritters or cabbage in sauerkraut. And while those months left lasting physical and psychological damage for an entire generation, the death toll would have been much higher were it not for the ingenuity of cooks in the Netherlands.
In modern gastronomy, likewise, it has been that insight that has led haute cuisine chefs to incorporate tulips into their dishes. They do it, as before, drying them, pulverizing them and adding them to the cereals to obtain flour with which to prepare other preparations. But its application today is much more sophisticated and beautiful than it was 70 years ago.
The tulip flower is used to decorate dishes, although it can also be eaten (if the pistil and stamens are removed) in salads or other recipes. In confectionery, the sugary petals are served in a cake or can even be consumed with syrup. Some restaurants in the country incorporate them into their menus, such as Café Caron in Amsterdam (which prepares oysters accompanied with this product) or De Librije in Zwolle. The restaurant De Nieuwe Winkel (Nijmegen, the Netherlands), awarded two Michelin stars and one green star, uses the tulip bulb in several of its dishes, being one of the most expensive ingredients on the menu.
Today, the Netherlands produces approximately 90% of the world’s supply of tulips. It has become a luxury product, since it takes five or seven seasons to obtain them. But in their day they were the only alternative to face almost certain death and, somewhat honorably, to resist. Even in hellish conditions, ordinary people did everything in their power to undermine the Nazi regime, including eating tulips.
