Prix d'Asperge

Seasons come and seasons go; marked by growth, decay and the church calendar of course. In North Limburg, the ridged growing beds, at first covered with protective foil, and then uncovered, reveal the divots cast aside by the thrusting white asparagus to mark the arrival of spring.

Asparagus is associated with many things; first with the pleasures of the table. The noble spear is also deeply embedded in the imagination: in erect bundles on the walls of Pompeii and on the canvases of Edouard Manet. Proust's observations are well known, as Mayor van Graafeiland of Venlo (see below) points out; though he does not dwell on the olfactory remembrance.

Asparagus too is linked with politics and industry. The first politician to devote himself to a description of the cultivation of asparagus was Cato the Elder. He, it will be remembered from our schoolbooks, urged that Carthage be destroyed. What we less often hear is that he feared the competition of the Carthaginian farmers.

The Prize
While Cato wanted the Romans to forsake the luxuries of modern life and return to their agricultural beginnings; Jeu Sprengers, Master of Ceremonies at the Prix d'Asperge, used the noble growth to crown the efforts of Venlo's premier industrial corporation, Océ-van der Grinten.

The prize (NLG 10,000 and a silver tankard) awarded annually by the Asparagus Promotion Foundation, went in 1996 to Océ-van der Grinten and its President Dr. Harry Pennings, for Océ's contribution to North Limburg.

Océ has added to the success of its market performance and the acquisition of an almost NLG 1 billion share of the German copier manufacturing market in the form of Siemens Nixdorf, by spearheading the development of science-based supplier clusters in North Limburg and Southeast Brabant, with input from allied research centers.

This move strengthens technological innovation among the suppliers enabling them to supply integrated modules. At the same time, it raises their status to that of co-developers, making a major contribution to society in North Limburg and its economy. Forty percent of the population of North Limburg is either directly or indirectly involved in Océ's activities. This means wages, salaries and orders of around NLG 600 million per annum.

The prize money will be passed to the Wendel Foundation, a foundation for the mentally handicapped and will be used, in part, for a conference in Arcen, North Limburg in October 1996. Sponsors of the prize are the Cooperative Auction House for Southeast Netherlands (ZON), the Chambers of Commerce and Industry for North and Central Limburg, and Limburg's Horticultural and Agricultural Associations.

The Ceremony
On the stage of Venlo's Maaspoort Theater, 260 places were set at round tables, hosted by the municipalities and other major bodies in the region. The music ranged from a piano start to a Mariachi crescendo. The side pieces were gigantic tapestries of flowers, grasses and willow twigs which dwarfed the Sun and Bird of Paradise flowers and bundles of asparagus at their hearts. The oratory was superb.

Jeu Sprengers, in his introduction, surveyed the historical scene in a cross-border region where smuggling gin, probably originally exceeded the export of vegetables and where 'Rumpies' (rural upwardly mobile professionals) had now taken over from the 'yuppies'. Mayor van Graafeiland reported on his perusal of the Internet pages in search of asparagus and revealed references to Saint Aspergia and Serge Gainsborough and also his own acquaintance with the heights of French literature.

Mayor Fasol of Horst prodded by references to changes in municipal and electoral boundaries gave as good as he got. Mr van Iperen, receiving the award on behalf of Dr. Pennings, and the Governor Baron van Voorst tot Voorst, presenting, responded with consummate aplomb. The Governor observed that not only was Minister Van Aartsen present, but that there also appeared to be a full tally of the Provincial Executive.

At the table presided over by Messrs Mussers and Janssen of the Municipality of Tegelen, Deputies Jan Schrijen and Wien Wijnen from the deepest south assisted LIM in getting to grips with asparagus in its many facets. Asparagus with a mousse of sturgeon and caviar from Iran; steamed with shellfish from the North Sea; in its traditional form with tiny boiled potatoes, ham and an egg dressing; then lightly baked with veal sweetbreads, paté de foie and a truffle sauce too.

260 covers and the brigade from Hotel Valuas and Hostellerie De Hamert never put a foot wrong. Macon Villages 1994 with the sturgeon and the shellfish; Remole 1994 - Chianti with the asparagus comme it faut and that excellent claret, Chateau Carbonnieux, 1992 with the assparagus and sweetbreads. Finally, a splendid pudding wine, a Maury, with the chocolate pyramid and Amaretto sauce.

At last came the time to mingle, with a Mexican refrain in one ear and news from LIOF, the ELC, the Chambers of Commerce, from North Rhine Westphalia and all the great and good in the other. Never let it be said that the North Limburgers don't know how to enjoy themselves. Their performance at work speaks for itself.

LIM June/July 1996
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Another French connection

Salient features in Limburg's cultural landscape are formed by gastronomic peaks of excellence. The clustering of Michelin stars on the map of Limburg both mixes a metaphor and proves the point. The Auberge in Weert, Prinses Juliana in Valkenburg, Chateau Neercanne and Toine Hermsen in Maastricht, the Bloasbalg in Wahlwiller: all testify to the presence of a distinctive culinary tradition.

Scan the map further and you see that South Limburg borders on the northernmost European outpost of the French-speaking world. This area was at one time a department of France, known as Basse Meuse. When you cross the border at Eijsden the highway is already designated "Autoroute du Soleil". The signs to Paris soon appear.

Limburg's culinary tradition is predicated on its closeness to France, the mother country of gastronomy, and also on the efforts of the individual chefs, their provisioners, educational institutions such as Maastricht's famous Hotel School and of course, a devoted restaurant-going public. Individuals keep the tradition alive.

Ger van Sebillen, born and bred in Maastricht, is one such individual. His appearance has something of that Gallic dash: a jauntily perched Louisiana Crawdaddy baseball cap, a Sligro bomber jacket and an Asterix moustache set the tone. Ger is a man with a mission.

Whether in print, on the television screen or leading his acolytes through the halls of the new ventre de Paris, Rungis, he is omnipresent, preaching the gospel of product-awareness. It is a message which many have clearly heeded, since the branch of Sligro wholesale chain that he heads has seen its turnover triple during his reign.

Ger has been travelling to Rungis on weekly purchasing expeditions for 23 years. Once a week he slips into the driving seat of his Volvo station wagon and, accompanied by his righthand man, Wim Kamp, flashes down the highway towards Paris.

On the way, he sometimes does the odd favor for a valued client; a couple of king-size bottles of Anisette here, a pair of special Bragard shoes there, and then back on the périphérique, heading south towards Orly and Rungis. The first night is filled with faxes, but glasses of Calvados maison ensure a few hours sleep.

The next day starts early. Breakfast at 3 a.m. and into the fish hall before 3.30. Things have been moving there since about midnight and the source of all those plateaux de fruits de mer is displayed in full glory: sturgeon, salmon, pike, plaice, sole, flat fish, round fish, shellfish and lobster; fish from the North Sea and fish flown in from Africa.

After a nod of his head and a 'bonjour patron' or 'bonjour chef', 'bonjour Gérard' re-echoes from all sides; the master is on home ground. Cases of oysters, cockles, mussels and dark red chunks of tuna are spirited away to be paletted and wrapped in foil for delivery to the giant Dutch truck which will leave Paris by 9.30 a.m. and have everything in Limburg, Brabant and points north by mid-afternoon.

With the fish safely on their way to the collection point, the purchasers spring on their bikes, or in our case into the Volvo, and drive on to the next hall. There are an estimated 21,000 buyers who operate through Rungis. Fortunately they were not all on their way to the fresh fruit and vegetable hall. This is Ger's special love.

The fresh produce is a feast for the eye. It is probably best appreciated in the accompanying photographs. From the Duryan to the Mangosteen, the king and queen of fruits; from miniature fruits and vegetables to edible flowers, all is there. There are banks of asparagus, spring onions, delicious little radishes and strawberries.

Ger races from stand to stand, monitoring the falling price of strawberries and cursing the inability of the Dutch to appreciate tiny courgettes at a guilder a kilo. He comments on the French prohibition on washing asparagus before sale. "It loses 25 percent of its taste and gains 12 percent in weight." Insider information is profuse on a trip like this.

Of course there is more than we have space to tell about. Jars of caviar being gently rotated under refrigeration. Containers full of sheep's heads, lights and other organ meats, cheeses that rarely see the light of day in our northern climes.

The restaurants, à la Marée, where you can east fish 24 hours a day. Oh for a skate in hazelnut butter, if there is time when the working day ends at about lunch time. In the evening Paris beckons. It is time to get out of the market togs, slip into a suit and dine at Voltaire's old home, Le Procope.

To really be sure that you are in the right place at the right time, you need to visit Paris with Sligro's secret weapon, Ger van Sebillen.

LIM June/July 1994
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