BozarThe day started off with a walk through the Parc de Bruxelles down to the royal palace…we thought we would just pop in for a tour, but that wasn’t happening. The park is somewhat like Central Park, shrunk down to about two by three blocks in size, with a little European flair with fountains, a theater (du Parc, of course) and long straight walking paths. So it was actually nothing like Central Park, but still a nice place with kids playing and couples lounging on the grass in the afternoon.
From there we tried to go over to the Musees Royaux des Beaux-Arts (Bozar, get it?). One might think that the entrance to the royal art museums would be prominent, or have a sign or something. Instead, we set up a pattern that would follow us for the rest of the day, wherein we got continuously lost, wandering back and forth in front of the door, trying to find the museum. Several times we walked for (literally) an hour to get a few blocks down the street.
Here is a picture of the main hall in the museum…swanky, huh? By the way, that globe down on the floor, way at the other end is made of bugs. Real bugs. Thousands and thousands of beetles and moths. Gross, huh?Here’s the business
After several hours of appreciating Belgian arts and culture, it was lunch time. We wanted to get to the Plaza du Petit Sablon, so we decided to walk in completely the wrong direction. (Incidentally, Google Map that puppy to see how dumb we are.) Down that way we saw a neat little café called Ciabata Mania. I would post a picture, but the only one we took has soup and crumbs everywhere, with half-eaten sandwiches in the background. The space was light and airy, friendly hipsters behind the counter and at all of the tables, and carousel music remixed as Euro-techno.
I think a place like this would do great in the US, and I’m thinking of downtown Nashville or a college district here. The menu was essentially soup, pre-composed pannini sandwiches, and espresso drinks. The sandwiches hit the grill for a few minutes when you order and they bring it out to you. The food was hot, fresh, and delicious, it comes out quickly, and you really can’t screw it up. We split a bowl of tomato soup and a pannini with mortadella, provolone, pesto, and tomato.
Chocolate (eventually)
So, appetites satisfied, we made our ill-advised way down the hill in search of a park and church. We ended up in the uber-touristy part of town. Realizing the error of our way, we consulted a map (should have done that to start, right?) and headed back up the big hill. By sheer luck, we wandered through a square housing two of the most highly recommended chocolatiers in the city, plus Godiva. In we went to Pierre Marcolini, where Dru spent a good thirty minutes perusing the offerings. Eventually we ended up with six selections, plus two macarons (high pressure up-sell by Dru).
Here is a picture of four of the six…we went to town on two of the chocolates before we remembered to document. We ended up with Violet, Safron, Almond, (hot) Pepper, Four Spice, and Cardamom. The last four are in the picture, in clockwise order. I’m going to let Dru wax poetic about chocolate now:So, I like chocolate and usually I don’t discriminate between some M&Ms and a fine truffle. Both delicious, both fix the craving. But take it from me, these Belgians? They know what they are doing. These tiny morsels of delicious literally start to melt the second you pick them up. Biting into them, they disintegrate even more - making the ones we had a tad difficult to share. Share we did, after an excruciating decision making process. The flavors we got - exquisite. The Violet had subtle nuances of raspberry, the Almond was a marzipan morsel with a hint of pistachio. The cardamom had coffee undertones for a sultry spicy experience and the Pepper was a veritable bloom of flavor on your tongue. Needless to say, a return trip is in order! Back to Ben:
We wanted to take the chocolate to a park called the Petit Sablon, by a plaza called the Grand Sablon. The church was visible from the chocolate shops, as in we were already in the plaza. Did we pay attention? No, of course not. Instead, we walked a half mile in the wrong direction, to the Palais de Justice. We ate our macaroons (chocolate and coffee) to fortify us for the return journey, and set off. Finally! We arrived at the park, took a seat, and enjoyed on one of the most expensive foods (by weight) that I’ve ever had.
…and conveyor belts.So eventually we went to dinner. We had a nice long walk (not lost this time) to work up an appetite. Dru: Ok, really it was like, half a mile. (Ben: that’s a long enough walk, ok?) We were excited to try the “trendy tapas” bar we read about in the guidebook - as we like tapas and especially like foods that come around on conveyor belts! Here is a garlic, white bean, roasted pepper, and olive tapenade crostini trundling by:
…. And the after picture 19 plates later! Basically you sit at a bar, drinks are self serve, and several small plates of finger food rotate before your eyes. The plates are color coded, so you know if you are getting veggies, fishies, porkies, meaties, cheesies, sweeties, or garlicies. Highlights included the lamb ribs with rosemary, chorizo wrapped in puff pastry, bacalao with a sabayon, fuet, lentils with apple compote, manchego with chestnut puree, and churros with dark chocolate sauce. Add 4 Spanish beers and we were some happy tapas-filled campers!We rounded the night off with a few beers at a neighborhood bar near our apartment, and ended up closing the place. Duvel for Ben and Bergen-something Abbey beer for Dru. Delicious nightcap. As an added bonus, we’ve picked that bar for moules and frites some night when we are feeling a bit lazier.
So that’s the story
Up next: two days in Amsterdam, crazy international friends, plus malt clowns and hop jugglers.
Now, for your viewing pleasure, Dru with a plastic cow:
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