‘You’re going to like it in Amsterdam,’ says the text message from my husband three months before we fly out. He is already there, having flown out just after New Years.
Photos of a market flood through, fresh fruit and vegetables. ‘All organic,’ he says. And a butchers display. ‘Organic!!’ he says.
‘Looks good,’ I type back, followed by a list of questions I have for the butcher, about the type of cuts, and the farms he sources his meat from.
‘I’ll do my best to find out,’ says my husband but I know he won’t ask the questions, it’s one area in which he embarrasses easily.
‘This is the organic grocer that’s walking distance from our house,’ he sends a little while later.Read More