In the county Limbourg, there are the Dutch unlike elsewhere in the Netherlands. They talk a lot about carnival. And I can barely understand them. So I was very long under the assumption that a boy from Limbourg talked always about his stomach. I did not understand much of the story, but later I understood that he was just the word “but” pronounce as “stomach”. Seems to do Limbourg. My father-in-law from Limbourg invited me to a course. I thought I would learn something important, but he took me to take a course rice tart. Also seems to be typical Limbourg. An absurd combination, rice and flan. Like all Dutch, they do all kinds of stuff with their bread. Each bread has a different color and other seeds. The choice is huge. Too big for me. Syrian bread looks like a pancake. We tear off a piece and dip it into the siege or pinch eat in between. In the Netherlands, the other way around. The siege is on the table and that should get you with cutlery from the pot and transfer to the bread. A hassle. In the course rice cake making I first ‘cooked’ as Dutch people. With a recipy. During the course leader and make the dough kneading asked how I got my technique. I did it -after her opinion- accordingly with my routine and different from the rest. During the war in Syria, I made lots and lots of bread. I bought a bag of flour and made bread with my mother. Meanwhile, I can make a rice cake. I can only say, it’s incredibly tasty. My Syrian housemates were gagging on the word “rice cake”, but after the experiments all about. I can set up a small business in Arnhem, it seems to be a gap in the market.