We retrace our steps to the sixteenth century, a time when the potato was still an exotic newcomer. Today, children grow up on pasta, pizza, burgers, shawarma, sushi, mountains of noodles, and fried rice. That is why, when you serve them plain boiled potatoes for supper—once in a while, with a pinch of salt and plenty of gravy—it suddenly feels like a treat again. The humble potato has become special, even exotic. And that is no applesauce. Which makes us wonder: how seriously should we take Van Gogh’s grim portrayal in The Potato Eaters? The global history of the potato is a fascinating one, and the fertile clay soils and the briny winds along the Frisia Coast Trail played its part as well, as we will see.

There are countless words for the tattie—or potato. In the Netherlands alone, the variations are endless: aardappel, erpel, aerpel, eerpel, irpel, jirpel, patat, and pieper, to name just a few. In Germany, the official word is Kartoffel, but there too you find many variants, including Pipper, Tüfte, and Tüffel, the last two probably derived from truffle. For this blog post, though, we will simply stick with potato.

And the names do not stop there. Beyond the nicknames, there are more than 5,000 known varieties of potatoes worldwide—each with its own label. Best not even try to list them all. Add to that the linguistic minefield of French fries, chips, patat/petat, and friet/frieten—all describing those fried, elongated strips of potato—and you have got enough confusion already. The dividing line between friet/frieten and patat/petat in the Netherlands is shown on the map below.

According to DNA research, the birthplace of the potato lies in the south of the land of the condor—Peru (Pieter Wilkens; Veenstra 2024). Nevertheless, Chile and Peru remain almost at daggers drawn over which country may rightfully claim to be the true cradle of las papas, the once-poisonous plant. Why they still quarrel over it is anyone’s guess, since it’s far too late to secure a patent—the global claim to potato fame has long since slipped away. We, bastards of the Frisia Coast Trail, do know from our own experience that southern Chile and Peru is excellent hiking material, that is, National Park Torres del Paine. But this aside, and actually, it is not relevant to mention here.

The earliest evidence of the potato crossing the Pond dates to 1573, when the vegetable was first recorded in Spain. From there, monks were likely responsible for spreading it further into Europe, perhaps first through Italy. By the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, the potato had reached Germany and the Netherlands. At that stage, it remained a curiosity—cultivated mainly in cloister gardens, at academiae and universities for study. People decided the odd-looking, rather tasteless tuber was better suited as fodder for pigs (we will come back to Peppa Pig, the animated children's television series, later in this blog post) or, at best, for the poor. Not much difference between the two, apparently.

Things changed due to clashing religions, as they so often do in history. Shortly before the potato arrived in Europe, Martin Luther had nailed his Ninety-five Theses to the door of the church in the town of Wittenberg, in the state of Saxony-Anhalt, Germany, in 1517. This schism eventually sparked (civil) wars and persecution between Roman Catholics and Protestants. As a natural consequence, it also triggered refugee flows within Europe, including movements toward the Low Countries. Among those adrift were the Huguenots from France at the end of the seventeenth century.

Huguenots, in general, did not bring much wealth or other particularly valuable skills with them, contrary to the sometimes-romanticized view—perhaps influenced by today’s emotionally charged migration debates. Yet they did not arrive entirely empty-handed. Among the things they brought was a different cuisine, in which the potato featured as a staple—think of it as the ancestor of the noodles, kibbeh (a bulgur wheat dish), nasi goreng (fried rice), or pom (a taro root dish), etc. of today’s immigrant communities in Europe. Between 1680 and 1720, these religious refugees also settled in the province of Friesland, where they began cultivating potatoes in small, private kitchen gardens. Small-scale at first, and strictly for personal consumption.

In 1761, it was in the area between the terp villages of Firdgum and Tzummarum—terps being artificial settlement mounds—on the north-western edge of Friesland that the first commercial potato field of Europe was ever harvested. Firdgum, with its remarkable freestanding slim church tower perched on the terp remains, is depicted on the cover photo of this blog post. The first load of potatoes was shipped to the ever-hungry city of Amsterdam via the harbour of the port town of Harlingen by skipper Johan Pieters, originally from the town of Franeker. To this day, the potato remains the main crop in the area, although farmers now specialize in seed potatoes.

The reason the potato has thrived—and continues to do so—in this area lies in the combination of rich clay soil and the salty sea breeze. The latter makes life very difficult for greenfly, which is excellent news for the potato. This clay soil was once tidal marshland, reclaimed from the Wadden Sea during the High Middle Ages, and as a result, it is exceptionally fertile.

Clothes for the Pope — Before the introduction of the potato, the area of Firdgum was known for its flax production. Flax is the basis for linen cloth. The local story is that even the Pope in Rome wore clothes made in Firdgum. If you want to have a clue what is true of this local rumour (and it is more than you think!) read our blog post Haute couture from the salt marshes. Traditional carbohydrate crops of the salt marsh were barley, especially sea barley, and emmer wheat. Possibly spelt and (bread) wheat too. But archaeological research has to further substantiate the growing of these two crops.

Because it was both hearty and nutritious, the potato became known as the poor man’s food—the inexpensive staple that the gray masses could actually afford.

With the French occupation at the turn of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the economy of Friesland collapsed. Sea trade with the Baltics, the British Isles, and Scandinavia suffered greatly. For Harlingen, still a major Dutch port at the time, the impact was disastrous—the sea trade would never regain its former glory. On top of this, in 1843, an economic crisis struck, leaving many people unemployed once again. The situation was worsened by a series of epidemics—malaria, influenza, cholera—and, last but not least, potato blight. Crop failures caused serious famine, yet the few healthy potatoes that were harvested were exported via Harlingen. Malaria hit the town particularly hard, as the mosquitoes thrived in the brackish waters surrounding the area.

On 24 June 1847, the hungry masses erupted in this small but overcrowded town on the Wadden Sea coast, an event that became known as the Aardappeloproer ('potato riot'). First, they plundered a ship loaded with potatoes. Once they had secured the cargo, mobs went on to loot the homes of the wealthy, including that of Mayor Rodenhuis (Vuyk 2011). The next day, the King’s governor and military arrived to restore order, and fifteen people were arrested. Adding to the drama, the Minister of War—no, we are not making things up—sent a gunboat to Harlingen to secure steam navigation with England (Schroor 2015). Incidentally, in 1917, Amsterdam experienced its own Aardappeloproer. There too, the export of the few potatoes that could be harvested to England and Germany provoked the masses (Historiek 2022).

In the 1850s that followed, conditions were little better. Poor people continued to die in large numbers from cholera, tuberculosis, and malaria, and potatoes remained scarce and prohibitively expensive. The second half of the nineteenth century also saw many Frisians emigrating to Canada and the United States, including notable names such as Folkert Kuipers (alias Frank Cooper), Sybrigje Viersen, Douwe or Dow Drukker, and the parents of William Sake Hofstra, Wiebe Klaas Frankena, Rod Jellema, and Lenny Dykstra (alias 'Nails'), the famous baseball player.

Not long after these troubles, in the year 1885, Vincent van Gogh painted the grim life of the poor. The painting is named De aardappeleters ('the potato eaters'). The name is not to be confused with those youngsters in the Netherlands today, who are known as patatgeneratie, literally meaning ‘French fries generation.' A generation of the period from the early ’70s to the mid ‘80s, typified by their passiveness. Indeed, real potato heads.

Given the exceptionally harsh, poor, and unsanitary living conditions in nineteenth-century Harlingen—and the persistent poverty that followed—it is no surprise that the foundations for modern district nursing were laid here, even if the profession has since been curtailed by neo-liberal policies in the Netherlands. The founder of home nursing, also known as district nursing or home care, was Sien van Hulst (1868–1930), a native of Harlingen. In 1896, she began providing care in the town’s impoverished backstreets, initially focusing on women in childbirth and new-borns. Over time, her growing organization merged into the Groene Kruis association. Her famous adage, “Reinheid, Rust en Regelmaat” ('cleanliness, rest, and regularity'), formulated in 1907, remains familiar to many today. Indeed, the town of Harlingen can rightly claim to be the European cradle of district nursing.

Leaving behind the harsh lives of nineteenth-century Harlingen, let’s turn back to the potato heads of today—children, and their unexpected connection to potatoes. Headmaster Kornelis Lieuwes de Vries, from the village of Suameer in central Friesland, cultivated potatoes at his school. In 1905, he developed a famous potato variety, Bintje, which he named after one of his eager pupils, Bintje Jansma. Other pupils also lent their names to potato varieties, including Cato, Sipe, and Trijntje. As a side note, apparently, the children in class were still so disciplined back then, that the teachers had plenty of time to pursue their hobbies.

And now, after centuries of loyal service, potatoes are slowly disappearing from the staple diet, especially from the tables of city dwellers. They are seen as old-fashioned, bland, and, above all, time-consuming. The bags are heavy to carry from the supermarket, and the peeling takes effort — too tiring, too much hassle for a family where both parents work, with their weekend full of social activities, and have only a few minutes to prepare a meal. Too many carbs, anyway, especially now that (cargo) bikes have gone electric. Yet, as always, scarcity has a way of making things suddenly popular.

So go the extra mile and treat your children, once in a while, to this former poor man’s food: boiled potatoes with a pinch of salt and plenty of gravy—or, alternatively, earpels mei smots (Carla van der Zwaag; Veenstra 2024), that is, finely mashed with applesauce. And if they do not like it, remind them that poor children in the port town of Harlingen once starved and even rioted just to get a potato. Need a final nudge? Show your kids this short Peppa Pig movie Mr. Potato Head Comes to Town—and good to see Peppa Pig lives on a terp too! ;-)

Your kids love it and not grim at all (anymore)!

Note 1 — When hiking the Frisia Coast Trail you pass through this area, and you have the option to visit the Yeb Hettinga Museum in an old school-building, and the Zodenhuis, a sod-house replica made of clay grass-sods being the practice in the Early Middle Ages.

Note 2 — If you happen to be in the Queen of the Hanseatic League, the city of Lübeck in northern Germany, you have the chance to go out eating in the Kartoffel Keller ('potato cellar'). A restaurant dedicated to the potato. Now, how cool is that!

Note 3 — We explained that the port town of Harlingen went into decline from the end of the eighteenth century and has remained poor ever since. Quite recent reports, among others that of the Sociaal en Cultureel Planbureau (2022), Erasmus School of Economics (2020), and the reports of Kinderen in Tel before, confirm that Harlingen is still one of the poorest places in the Netherlands, and its children have almost no chance to escape from it.

Note 4 — Credits (featured) images Firdgum by Fotogorter and De Aardappeleters by Vincent van Gogh

Further reading

Buist, G., Bintje, vernoemd naar een ijverig schoolmeisje uit Friesland (2019)

Haan, de P. & Huisman, K. (eds.), Gevierde Friezen in Amerika (2009)

Historiek, De Aardappeloproer ontspoort (1917) (2022)

Nicolay, J., Schepers, M., Postma, D. & Kaspers, A., Firdgum: pioniers, boeren en terpbewoners (2018)

NOS, Harlingen laat oorzaak armoede in gemeente onderzoeken (2020)

Oliemans, W.H., Het brood van de armen. De geschiedenis van de aardappel temidden van ketters, kloosterlingen en kerkvorsten (1988)

Pot, G.P.M., Arm Leiden. Levensstandaard, bedeling en bedeelden 1750-1854 (1993)

Rek, de W., Rust, reinheid en regelmaat. Wijsheid van vroeger voor het leven van nu (2024)

Schroor, M., Harlingen. Geschiedenis van de Friese havenstad (2015)

Scheltema, J., Geschiedenis van de dagelijksche kost in de burger-huishoudingen (1830)

Stichting Bildtse Aardappelweken, Poetic Potatoes (2014-2018)

Trouw, Waarom Trouw een week lang naar Harlingen gaat (2022)

Veenstra, E. (ed.), Us aller ierdappel (2024)

Veldhoen, L., Bintje, de populaire aardappel die tot ‘gifpieper’ werd gebombardeerd (2025)

Vliet, van H., Aardappel deed Friese bevolking in eeuw verdubbelen (2024)

Vries, de E., Ype Baukes de Graaf. De laatste Fries die de doorstraf kreeg (2003)

Vuyk, S., De blikken dominee. Een verboden liefdesaffaire die eindigde in moord (2011)

Wiegman, N., Hulst, Aafke Gesina van (1868-1930) (2017)

Wiersma, J., Noord-Nederland na de bedijkingen (2018)