A Dutch Chef Makes His Mark

SLUIS, The Netherlands -- When culinary adventurers set off on a
voyage, the Netherlands used to be among the least appetizing possible
destinations.

Almost all Dutch meals consisted of soggy fish, overcooked
meat, boiled potatoes and bland cheese, often washed down with a glass
of milk, or at best, cheap wine. A dour Protestant tradition seemed responsible.
Only a few miles away, Dutch-speaking Belgians, Roman Catholics,
reveled in restaurants featuring a wonderful mixture of French style
and German-size portions.

But over the past few years, interest in fine food has soared
in the Netherlands and the country no longer is a gastronomic desert.
In a strange way, the lack of culinary traditions has allowed Dutch
chefs to think out of the box and experiment. Leading this avant-garde
wave is Restaurant Oud-Sluis in the village of Sluis, population 6,500.

"In Belgium and France, there is such a heavy food culture,"
says Oud-Sluis chef Sergio Herman, a 37-year-old magician at the ovens
who looks the bohemian part: a baby-face flanked by a shock of long,
wavy black hair falling almost to his shoulder. "In Holland, it's
different: Since we have no culture for food, we are free."

His success has caused a reverse migration. Instead of the Dutch
heading south for a good meal, Belgians now head north. Oud Sluis is
located just over the Belgian border, only a few miles north of the
medieval city of Bruges and a few miles west of the fancy seaside
resort of Knokke.

Sluis itself is a charming Dutch market town, clean and tidy.
Herman's restaurant is in the center, in a small, one-story building,
originally a farmhouse and later a merchant home. The restaurant
consists of two cozy rooms with 12 tables, seating a total of about 35
for each meal. Behind, there's a sparkling modern kitchen half hidden.
Décor is simple and warm; this is no baroque palace but a clean,
well-designed modern Dutch home.