Moules, frites, and wafels...some of the most well-known of the touristified Belgian culinary attractions. The sweet dough smell of wafels pervaded through every city, gently dissipating into a mysterious sweet potato aroma from afar. In the city centre, it was either the click and flash of cameras or the white sticks pricking into baskets or cones of fresh frites served with mayo. Seriously, no one could starve themselves of carbohydrates in Belgium with the chocolates, frites, and wafels saturating every nook and cranny. I definitely didn't have enough time to try all of them, but I did attempt a few.
A chance encounter with a street stand at the Korenmarkt in Ghent unveiled a local delicacy--"vlaaien." Ginger-spice flavored, the texture resembled a pumpkin pie filling--custardy yet puree-like. The only crust was the top and sides formed by the direct contact with the oven fire. It was definitely a nice dessert on a cold day.
Next came the search for the meat and beer stew called "stoofvlees" or "stoverij." I found one serving "stoofvlees met sla," a Flemish beef stew, with frites. Hearty, slightly sweet, and flavorful, it was beef stewed in beer, bay leaves, maybe tomatoes and onions, plus a mix of sauces/spices/herbs. The frites themselves resembled the !McDonald's thin strips, and with the typical Belgian mayo pairing, it was delicious! Add a little stoofvlees sauce, and it was beyond delectable!
Finally came the moules at the Rue de Bouchers in Brussels. Gauntlet might just begin to describe the atmosphere. Every restaurant sold moules. Criss-crossing awnings barricaded the sky while bright neon signs bathed the enclosed alley with an eerie glow. Tables spilled out from both sides forcing pedestrians to walk single file in either direction. Large poster signs surrounded the tables, chairs, and storefronts advertising moules, other seafood dishes, menu du jour, and suggestions du jour; some even included pictures. The finishing touch were the hired sirens beckoning guests to enter their restaurant, where undesired service began with any accidental eye contact.
After circulating the street a couple times, I ultimately chose one without a hawker that happened to fit the vague descriptions of the best moules restaurant recommended by my gourmand friend. Soon, a big bowl of moules with an equally big empty metallic bowl for the shells and a small plate of frites arrived. The moules were simply poached in white wine, butter, and celery to create tenderful meat with a light refreshing soup. Simple, bountiful, and relatively inexpensive, I wonder how the more than 20 restaurants on that street differed...
Sunday, October 28. 2007
The Foods of Belgium
Trackbacks
Trackback specific URI for this entry
No Trackbacks

