Beachclub Peanuts

There are beach clubs that try to distinguish themselves through a certain theme (often country-related), special food, or through flashy design, often clearly geared towards a specific niche of the public that can be found here in Scheveningen. And then there are beach clubs that are decidedly middle of the road, apparently trusting that their ideal location close to the boulevard and the sea are enough to attract the amount of customers they need. Those probably also aim at a more general public of whomever happens to be at the beach, rather than at a specific crowd. A rule of thumb seems to be that the closer to the Pier, the blander the beach club.

Beachclub Peanuts falls in the latter category. Its design is very old school Dutch beach club: a square tent with a slanting roof, made of weathered wood and surrounded by a terrace. There's little to distinguish its interior except from the rather harshly coloured black and red furniture and a lost bonzai tree (alongside the olive trees that are very common among the beach clubs in Scheveningen - it's either olive trees or palm trees and I always wonder where they keep those during the winter months when the beach clubs are stored). Country and seventies folk is playing on the dated sound system.

Except from two middle aged women having breakfast outside, we're the only visitors today. It's Saturday - the second week in a row that we need to shift our weekly brunch because I am engaged otherwise on Monday, and I promise myself not to make a habit out of this. However, the quietness of the place and the grey, rainy weather give this morning a very Monday-ish feeling. We've cycled here, because after our brunch we're headed for Leiden where we're meeting an old friend of mine and plan to visit the National Museum of Ethnology there. We're a bit later than we've been the last few weeks, because Rihanna Gaga was busy playing at home, and was hesitant to leave: the clock is already approaching eleven when we enter Peanuts.

A very jovial, smooth talking waiter welcomes us and takes our order. We take the deluxe breakfast (€12,50) and an apple juice for Rihanna Gaga. We settle at the table. Rihanna Gaga starts drawing right away and makes a nice picture of me. She's getting very good at this: eyes, ears, hair, legs and arms are all clearly distinguishable now and she's also obviously planning her picture before drawing each following part. We chat a little bit about all the things we're going to do today. "Are there going to be toys at the museum?" she asks me. I admit I don't know. She looks disdainful. Yesterday she went to a great children's museum with her mum and now she clearly feels that museums without toys to play with aren't really worth her time.

The waiter brings two plates, remarking that the young lady surely wants one for herself - a nice servive, especially because there's a little pile of salad on her plate as well as on mine. I already prepared Rihanna Gaga for the fact that the breakfast comes with a croissant, and she's accepted this fact on the condition that she could have the egg. She's a bit disappointed that the whole breakfast is covered with little flakes of parsley (a touch that I rather like, myself) and asks me if I can please remove them from the egg. I glance over the breakfast: considering that it comes with tea (or coffee, but I choose tea) and orange juice, and not forgetting the location of the place either, the price doesn't seem very high: there's lots of fried bacon, cheese, ham, salami, and plenty of slices of toast and bread (not whole-wheat, unfortunately). Especially the amount of bread is nice, because at other places I've often noticed that there is just not enough bread for all the coverings offered with it. Somehow, however, it does seem a little too little. I check the menu and realise they've forgotten the smoked salmon. I notify the waiter and he notifies the chef in a jokey tone - within seconds, the salmon is brought as well. I reach a deal with Rihanna Gaga, who's alread claimed all of the egg: she can have half of the salmon if I can have half of the egg. Quietly, we enjoy our breakfast. After eating the egg and salmon, Rihanna Gaga has several slices of bread and butter and then when she discovers there's sprinkles too, she wants another slice with that.

After breakfast, we need to go to the toilet. Rihanna Gaga finds the fact that the toilet is outside of the main building hilarious. "A toilet outside!" she cries, and giggles hysterically.  To her, it's a very funny joke and I laugh along. Then I pay, tipping the waiter for his friendly mood, and we're on our way to Leiden.