Memories Are Made of These

Planning a trip to Europe? What a coincidence. I just coaxed the final drop from my last tube of Ducray Ictyane cream.

Oh, the small delights of Dutch, French and Belgian shopping.

Of course, point-me-to-the-street-with- the-designer-boutiques-type shopping is fun too, but any travel book will put you on that trail.

What I love are the special little things that can’t be found in the United States. Things that are different. Or cheap. Or at least cheaper, particularly now that the dollar is stronger than it has been in years.

A temporary job assignment took our family to Amsterdam for two years, and as the assignment came to an end at the close of the century, we tried to stock up on some favorites, circling down to Paris at least a half-dozen times when we remembered something else we couldn’t live without.

Here are my picks for what to pack and bring home:

Amsterdam

For me, grocery stores are a must in every country. I love to wander the aisles, see the people and get a feel for the real-life culture of the place.

Hot chocolate: Albert Heijn is the grocery store of choice in the Netherlands, and no matter where you go, you’re sure to pass one. Because the Dutch specialize in cozy ways to chase away the chill, inside you’ll find a large section devoted to tea, coffee and hot chocolate. In that last category, look for Droste cacao, or cocoa. If you’re lucky, you’ll find the 125-gram tin for less than $4. If not, they’ll certainly have the 250-gram cardboard box for $2. Both packages feature the same wonderful graphic: a serious Dutch maiden serving a warm cup made with Droste’s best. I’d buy it for the package alone, so it’s a bonus to get all that fine cocoa too.

Spreads: If you don’t mind carrying a breakable item, check the jellies and jams and see whether they have Hero Bosvruchten / Fruits des Bois, or “Hero mixed berry jam,” a delicious souvenir for $1.75. (Note: Grocery stores in Holland are BYOB--bring your own bag--or you’ll have to buy one. And in the spirit of equality, shoppers do their own bagging.)

Cheese: If you can resist hoarding it all for yourself, three packs of Gouda cheese make great gifts. There are lots of brands and places to buy Gouda, but my favorites (based on freshness and packability) are the Henri Willig cheese shop at Magna Plaza in Amsterdam (across from the Royal Palace and the Nieuwe Kerk and open on Sundays), and the Catharina Hoeve Cheesefarm at Zaanse Schans village in nearby Zaandam (where you’ll see Gouda being made). Both shops will slice off a piece for you to taste, so give yourself a treat and try at least these: the baby Gouda, the goat cheese and the herbed Gouda. Unrefrigerated, the wax-covered wheels (about $8 each) keep for up to six weeks if you’re careful not to let them get punctured or broken. Once home and in the refrigerator, ours were still delicious after 10 weeks. (These cheeses sail through U.S. Customs; cured cheese is one form of dairy that’s allowed.)

Flower bulbs: Not edible but definitely eye-opening are bulbs from Holland. This year cars slowed down in front of our house to enjoy the show: drifts of lilac blue hyacinths, spiky crimson tulips and buttery yellow narcissus. The bulbs came directly from the grower; we ordered them last spring when we toured Keukenhof in Haarlem, a day trip from Amsterdam. The bulbs were mailed to us months later, exactly when they were supposed to be planted.

Strolling in the park’s stunning flower displays, you’ll notice a few discreet booths staffed by representatives from well-regarded Dutch bulb growers. They’ll answer your questions and take orders in English. Bring your charge card (minimum order, about $25) and your address book.

We bought from two sellers at Keukenhof (now open in spring and summer) and were pleased with both. By contrast, the hundreds of bulbs I bought from that enormous shop at Schiphol Airport--and gave as gifts, unfortunately--were a bust: straggly green sprouts and no flowers.

Sweatshirts, novelties: Schiphol redeemed itself with the sweatshirts we bought there. Originally a last-minute, last-ditch purchase, those $40 navy, gray or white sweatshirts with the embossed Amsterdam crest became the mainstay of my gift-giving repertoire. We also got great sweatshirts, key chains, boxers and socks, all with the University of Amsterdam logo, at a shop on Spui across from the entrance to the Beginhof, the hidden courtyard of 16th and 17th century homes.

Confections: The Dutch are crazy for black licorice. I hate it, so I never bought a single piece, but if you know anyone who likes it, plan on buying it for them at any shop in Holland or look for Jamin, Holland’s favorite candy store. Likewise, check out the magic of the marshmallow. In the Netherlands, marshmallow seems to inspire creative expression. I used to visit the V&D; Department store on Kalverstraat just to see the different holiday marshmallow displays: bunnies, Santas, handbags, flowers, cows, ponies, anything can and has been sculpted out of the fluffy stuff. My daughter Kira gave a marshmallow cell phone to her 15-year-old boyfriend (the real thing that grows from his ear being his most valued possession), and it was a sentimental and gustatory hit. The creations cost $1 and up, depending on their size and complexity.

Paris

In the movie “Gigi,” Leslie Caron sang: “The night they invented champagne/They absolutely knew that all we’d want to do/Is fly to the sky on champagne.”

All the better when it costs less.

Food and drink: We found the best prices at suburban chain discount-type grocery stores (like Intermarche or Carrefour) when we were driving on the outskirts of the city. There were so many brands and varieties that it was overwhelming. I would just stand in the aisle and read labels until someone came up and selected a bottle; then I’d follow suit. An interesting game, and we’ve enjoyed every bubble. (Mumm, Moet, Laurent Perrier, Perrier-Jouet, $19 to $23 and up.) While you’re in the store, other aisles also deserve a look. Cans of pa^te are lightweight and unbreakable. Jams, jellies, mustard and candy--really, everything--taste special when the label is in French.

Skin cream: We still don’t know why, but my daughter’s skin became so dry in France that she started to scratch. It was painful for her and, well, disgusting to watch. So off we went in search of a pharmacy, the kind with the green cross outside. Although the salesclerk spoke little English, she understood my pantomime and with great conviction pointed to Ducray Ictyane creme secheresse cutanee, or treatment cream for dry skin. Could anything more wonderful come in a tube? You can stroke it on and feel the velvety softness. Don’t miss the opportunity to load up, although pharmacies sometimes seem to let their stock run perilously low. Look for a pink, white and gray label on a box that says “Ducray Ictyane.” It costs about $15 for 5.39 ounces, and is worth every penny (or franc).

Soaps: I’ve seen Roger & Gallet soaps in the States, but the fun of getting them in France is the amazing selection of scents. There are bins full at the pharmacies, and they’re also available at any chain drugstore, such as Prisunic. The 5.2-ounce round bar comes in a plastic case for about $6.50, but I love the elegant three-bar boxed sets for about $14. One whiff of the wild mint, or menthe sauvage, and I bought as much as I could carry, but I still didn’t get enough. The only way I can smell it now is to visit my friends’ powder rooms.

If you’re going to be driving in France, early in the trip put a couple of French music audiotapes on your shopping list. Though it requires some persistence to find tapes, they’re cheaper than CDs, and you can listen to them in your rental car. “Edith Piaf 35eme Anniversaire,” recommended by an audiophile at Printemps, is a classic. We popped it into the tape player while sitting in standstill traffic in Paris, and the music provided a perfect soundtrack for the rest of our trip. Now, back home, eating quiche becomes an event when we put Edith into the tape player and join her in a chorus of “Padam Padam” ($14 and up).

Antwerp, Belgium

Chocolate: In Belgium, where Godiva is just another name, everyone has a favorite chocolatier. I liked all of them--until I was ruined for life by Pierre Marcolini.

I had an out-of-body experience at the shop that sells it in Antwerp. I’ve never smelled anything as sublime as the air in that place. The chocolates we selected were extraordinary. But the most sensual part was beyond the counter to the right: a fountain that flows with liquid chocolate, the most satiny velvet I have ever tasted. You are given a small white spoon to use to dip into the flowing sheet of liquid. Once is not enough. I confess, I dipped twice. And I’ll do it again given the chance. In Antwerp, head for Le Chocolat du Iris, Huidevettersstraat 38-40, telephone 011-32-3-226-5001, fax 011-32-3-213-0560. Brussels has four Pierre Marcolini locations, the main one on Place du Grand Sablon 39, phone 011-32-2-541-1206. Cost is $1.50 and up per piece, chocolate fragrance free on entering shop.

Bon voyage. You’ll get to poke around in all the shops and follow the locals to discover other bargains and new finds. You’ll have your own stories to tell about the remarkably different shopping tempo, where stores open late and close early, where you’re expected to say hello upon entering, and where the owner himself will be happy to come out and give you directions to get you back to your hotel. Where salespeople who have only the most passive interest in selling their wares suddenly spring to life when you accept their offer of gift wrap. (Isn’t it an almost guilty thrill to see the concentration and devotion lavished on ribbons and bows and beautiful paper for your modestly priced purchase?)

I don’t mind that I’m sitting home. I’m happy that you’re going. Really. Did I mention that the last of my Ducray Ictyane cream is gone? That the menthe sauvage soap makes a great gift and that we prefer chocolate with nuts?