Don Panchito: the Dutch shop in Albir

Like many others, I do it almost daily here on the Costa Blanca — driving with the windows down. From Moraira to Calpe along the coast, a stretch of the N332, through the Mascarat tunnel, and then joining the car procession through Altea on the way to Albir. But always: Costa Blanca Radio on. Sometimes just as background, sometimes because there’s that one track that makes you unconsciously press the accelerator. And to be honest: around half past twelve there’s often a delicious Yacht Rock tune in the mix. That Van Velthuysen (music curator, ed.) really has an ear for it. West Coast vibes on the Costa Blanca — he gets it.

And then it happens. You hear a jingle. Once. Then again. And before you know it, it’s stuck in your head — for good. “Don Panchitooooo…”

Sung with so much cheerfulness, you’d almost think it was a children’s song — or a catchy tune from a long-lost TV ad. But no, it’s a Dutch shop in Albir. And after the fifth time singing along at full volume, I think: might as well drive over and check it out.

Wholesome kitsch at its finest

So, Albir. Right in the centre of town, opposite “the big car park” — and yes, everyone knows exactly where that is — I find Don Panchito. From the outside, the shop looks harmless enough, almost as if you’ve accidentally wandered into a Dutch campsite store. But step inside, and you instantly understand why people love coming here.

It’s a steady flow of familiar faces. Customers chat as if they’ve known each other for years — and many of them have. Some live here year-round, others come to overwinter every season. And in Don Panchito, it all blends together. While someone’s paying for their rookworst, a conversation about the weather in the Netherlands breaks out. Someone calls out that the Calvé pindakaas has been restocked. Someone else asks for a jar of pickles. “But only the ones with the black and yellow lid — not those stuck-up soggy cucumbers!”

It’s become a kind of social supermarket — full of nudges, jokes, and stories shared at the counter.

“I usually go for a bag of freshly roasted nuts myself, but the North Holland Lutjewinkel cheese flies off the shelves fastest. Working with products of that quality — that’s what I love most about this shop.”

The taste of home, the scent of holiday

And then there’s Marc — the man who keeps it all running. A true people person. While he slices cheese, he cracks jokes. “It’s charmingly old-fashioned here. I know at least three-quarters of our customers by name, and often I recognise them just by what they buy.”

In between, he points a customer towards the new delivery of stroopwafels. He knows your name, remembers your preference for extra mature cheese, and nods knowingly when you ask if there’s any Van Gilse in stock. Really, it’s not a shop — it’s a clubhouse for taste and nostalgia.

What Don Panchito sells is best described as the contents of your suitcase when you first moved to Spain — only chilled and perfectly organised. From Gouda cheeses and nuts to Conimex ketjap, Hela curry sauce, Calvé mayo, hagelslag, liquorice, peanut butter, pickled gherkins, stroopwafels, and even those biscuits you were sure only your grandma still remembered.

But the beauty of it is: it doesn’t feel like bottled-up nostalgia. There’s something light about it. Something cheerful. Something that says: we know it’s a bit kitschy, but who cares? You don’t have to explain yourself. Everyone here understands exactly why you’re placing that one box of Venz in your basket like it’s a tiny piece of childhood.

And the jingle? That sticks with you.

As I paid for a slice of aged cheese, a pack of ontbijtkoek and a handful of good intentions, I heard it again. And as I stepped out of that little Dutch shop in Albir, a customer behind me was humming the same tune I’d been singing for days. “Don Panchitooooo…”

I turn around, chuckle, and know: I’ve started again.

This Gusto! feature was created in collaboration with Don Panchito.