My father always spoke of the time he was at Eindhoven, in the RAF during WWII.

The people were most welcoming, generous, even after long privation - he was invited to dinner with a family who killed their goat to feed him, and they opened a bottle of advocaat which they'd kept hidden 'for the liberation'.

I always bought him a bottle of advocaat for Christmas and he used to get a bit misty eyed, remembering.

Anne the Pleater :ootd: