What do magnets, awesome hair, bruised toes, and a fragrant bath soap have in common? Balls. Soccer balls, specifically. Read about the feats of the feet at Dikken Bal, Ideal's blog!
For my writing and shakes of the pom-pom:
http://dikkenbalideal.wordpress.com/2013/04/01/observations-from-the-invisible-pom-poms/
4.02.2013
Guest Writer for Zinneket.be
The gents at Zinneket.be, a multidisciplinary and thought-provoking Brussels commentary blog, have asked me to wrangle a few words for their readership. How could one resist?! A revised edition of the Chim-Chiminey article can be found here:
http://www.zinneket.be/?p=460
Chins up!
http://www.zinneket.be/?p=460
Chins up!
1.09.2013
The Chime of Chim-Chimineys and the Right of Priorities
To celebrate, commemorate,
exclaimerate with delight my recent
move to Brussels – the move
to Brussels – I present a portrait from above and below. It
is an ambitious attempt to steel a glance at this diverse and prismatic city. So here we are, of chimneys and priorities.
----------
The Chime of Chim-Chimineys
Florida, my home state, is
not particularly renown for all that chimney jazz. If you do catch
sight of one, its exterior is likely some chunky, rectangular
protrusion entirely void of character or charm. Those made of brick
are tolerable. Those of painted cement, nauseating. The blatant
impracticality is another reason for Florida's chimney few. Average
temperatures in the “mild” to “blistering” do not exactly
soot the needs of homeowners.
So upon first moving to
Brussels in 2010, I became particularly enchanted by rooftops,
rooflines, and roofscapes. And with each new design encountered, I
became increasingly jaunty. More so than any fiddler on a...
My return to Belgium after a
year's absence has not extinguished this fascination. If anything, my preoccupation with chimneys has – for lack of better words – “gone through the roof.”
Perhaps it is my orientation
to look up. Perhaps it is my preoccupation with things different,
things new, things open (but also “shingle”) minded.
Nevertheless, I consider a stroll with neck-craned-upwards as prime
time to recharge.
Diversity of the skyline is, perhaps, a testament to the diverse character of the city. A lens from which to view Brussels as playful and enchanting. A city made all the more alive.
So leave your cookie-cutter,
pre-fab designs! And come visit me as we chim-chiminey our way
through the city.
----------
Priority of the Right
From steel on high, let us
turn now to steel on low. Brussels, steel on wheels.
As center of the European
Union, it is no wonder why Brussels is the crossroads of diversity.
Of people, customs, goals, and – unquestionably – of driving
styles. So diverse, drivers seem unable to communicate except by
honk, finger, or exclamatory raising of one or both hands. So
diverse, attempts to unify driving styles would render one more tired
than a set of Goodyears.
1. their sorta, kinda, occasional adherence to what is known as “priority of the right” or “priority to the right”
and when exercising said "priority of the right" –
2. their “when I feel like it” or “when I remember to do it” attitude towards pedestrians in the crosswalk – in other words, their disregard for "the priority of the pedestrian"
 |
| a signal that "toots" to a different tune, nyc 2012 |
This “priority of the right” rule is new to me. And remains to be new, even after nearly two years of exposure. Since it does not exist in America – at least to my knowledge – here is an explanation in brief:
Imagine a four-way intersection. In the US, you would generally encounter stop signs – be they two or four in number. The person who arrives at the stop sign first is thus granted priority. The other cars follow in subsequent order of arrival. In short, first come first served. IF you do not have a sign indicating that you must stop – you, without said sign, are allowed priority, whereas the others with sign must wait in envy for you to saunter through, unabashed.
a) they happen to have a stop sign and you don't
or
b) they arrived at the four-way stop sign after you.
BUT, should you be in a country operating in the “right of way” model, the person approaching from the right has priority. Hence, the name. Thus, drivers must yield to cars that approach from the right – regardless of who arrived at the intersection first. There are exceptions – something about triangle markers – but we need not involve geometric shapes in this discussion.
 |
| Notice the absence of stop signs altogether. The green car has priority to turn in any direction it so chooses. The blue car must yield. If it remembers to, that is. |
The main purpose of such a model is to facilitate circulation while decreasing the number of traffic lights. In other words, force the stream of traffic to yield to new comers, thus improving circulation of those coming from subsidiary roads on the right. In more colloquial terms, freak out your passenger by stopping just short of collision with the car that has every “right” to pull out in front of you (inevitably, last minute) from the right. Makes for a delightful aerobic exercise, this heart-palpitating response to thoughts of being the next t-bone'd special. Also makes for more lively car conversation, at that.
Instead of looking
right, at the potential for pedestrians, or even yielding to them altogether, drivers seem more focused on their auto-equivalents. Pedestrians are left
without the right
to cross, as is their priority – that is, strictly speaking of those
intersections where bands of black and white clearly mark a crosswalk and where there is no light or signal instructing when to cross.
So what does all this
traffic jargon mean? It is
made clear by experience that the “priority of the pedestrian” is
not the practiced norm, which therein puts me – a driver and
pedestrian – at a personal cross-roads. The advantage for drivers
is in plain view, but so is the disadvantage to non-drivers. So who
has priority now?
Given that “the priority
of the right” is so openly embraced by drivers, I think it within
reason to suggest that public programs propel “the priority of the
pedestrian” to the forefront of state, um, priorities. How might they do this? My first and only recommendation is for drivers – repeat offenders who ignore said "priority of the pedestrian" – be publicly announced via photo jumbo-tron
at De Brouckere and Place Flagey. Yes, let guilt and
self-reproach do all the work. Like a sort of auto-correct, no?
So I say to ye diverse
drivers – be they of Brussels or worldwide – in your effort to practice "the priority of the right," please do the way of right. Please pay mind to the very
precious, very people-y reasons why it is not a good idea to fly
through intersections in your effort to claim “priority” and,
likewise, why it is a good idea to pay mind to your right when
exercising your right.
Physics proves in your
favor – that you have priority by virtue of your size, strength,
and potential to inflict irreparable damage. But, remember the pedestrian when making your next turn, right?
Thanks and happy honking!
Thanks and happy honking!
12.01.2010
Of All Things Toast-Worthy: Beer, Bagels, & British Bikers
Perhaps it is no stretch to suggest an American preoccupation with beer, bagels, and bikers.
But picture for me an American eating a bagel somewhere in Belgium, while sipping beer imported from Bolivia, simultaneously browsing the Dutch-language television channels only to happen upon a travel/cooking show hosted by a British biker-duo as they peruse through major sites across India.
In this globalized world of ours, I would not be entirely shocked to find such a combination.
And it could well happen if you know where to look in Brussels. Hence, the following submission.
And please pay no mind to the overwhelming--though hopefully not bothersome--bombardment of b's, as Brussels, Belgium, and Beckers (the street upon which I live), have a subconscious and contagious effect on me.
---------------------------------------------------------
Behold the Beer and Bars of Brussels, Belgium
Below is a quick word or few on local watering holes of honorable mention, accompanied by a list of the beers and krieks I have tried--or at least remember trying--upon moving to Brussels.
Delirium Café
Impasse de la Fidélité 4A
[city centre, down a small alleyway, just opposite of Jeanneke Pis--not to be confused with Manneken Pis]
http://www.deliriumcafe.be/
Are you jones'n for a beer or cider not found in your local supermarket? Care to browse a phone-book size listing of brews from your A to V's? (Angola to Vietnam, that is)
Sounds deleterious--wait, I mean delirious. Doesn't it?
Delirium is by no means representative of a traditional Belgian café or brasserie. But it certainly exists as one of the only places to find locals and tourists in harmonious intoxication year round.
The atmosphere in the cave is, as one would expect, quite dark, perhaps a tad damp, and yes, teeming with metaphorical rats. Beware the former wine casks that serve as your tables, as their tops are often warped and leave your drink vulnerable to spill with the gentlest of nudges.
Also pay mind to petty thieves and the unfortunate aggressive drones who, at the slightest of accidental eye contact made, will gladly fasten themselves to you for the remainder of the evening as they engage in a sinewous attempt to take you home.
For better results, try the ground floor just to the right of the entrance. The tables are much more stable, the air cleaner, the decor chipper, and the general disposition of patrons on this floor is less intrusive.
So why venture to the cave, you ask? Well, each floor serves a different beer on tap (of which there are 25+ per floor). Osmosis of the crowd, I suppose.
---------------------------------------------------------
La Morte Subite [The Sudden Death]
Rue Montagne aux Herbes Potagères 7
[city centre, just east of La Bourse]
Characterized as a traditional Belgian brasserie and famous for its own brand of beers and krieks, I present unto you La Morte Subite. The art-nouveau accents are mildly indicative of what you might find in Ixelles or Etterbeek communes of Brussels. They certainly coordinate well with the vaulted ceiling and interior walls draped with mirrors spotted from age.
At some point during your visit, I also suggest that you take the grand staircase to the first floor and look over the railing to gaze down upon the handful of waiters bustling about in synchronized, maddening motion. And it is only from above that the spectacle below resembles a giant art-nouveau game of frogger as each server, tray of drinks in hand, miraculously darts across aisles congested with bumbling tourists too entranced by the decor to pay notice.
Ready your appetite for traditional croques, sandwiches, sausages, cheese platters, and omelets. But let's be quite honest here. You really just wanted to sample the beer. And so I have provided you a front-seat view of the bar:
---------------------------------------------------------
Café Belga
Eugène Flageyplein 18
[Place Flagey, just south of Frites Flagey]
Come aboard this little beauty and discover why I made La Belga my local favorite. It is almost cafeteria-like in its design, with food and drinks ordered at separate counters and carried back to your table in trays. But there is a familial, coffee house, "perfect for sunday brunch" touch to the place different from the days of Morrison's.
The food selection varies--with soups, salads, sandwiches, and other cold appetizers always present, and at a price that is most reasonable. Then, there is the added bonus of a non-smoking interior, coupled with live jazz and d.j. nights interspersed throughout the week. You can find a small selection of beers on tap and a few more provided in bottle, but I recommend the mint tea; a warm cup of freshly steamed herbs, with customary spekulaas in hand, makes for quite the content Kat.
---------------------------------------------------------
Goupil le Fol [The Mad Fox]
Rue de la Violette 22
[city centre, due east of the Grand Place]
Think estate sale of the most eclectic, eccentric, and maybe even ecclesiastical. Wind your way up a seriously narrow circular staircase to discover that no wall or ceiling of the establishment's four floors is without ornamentation. I am especially fond of their house made fruit wines and a juke box of whose musical menu is a prismatic reflection of the decor.
---------------------------------------------------------
Le Poechenellekelder [The House of Marionettes]
Eikstraat 5
[city centre, opposite of Manneken Pis]
Disarm your spell check. This is a Bruxelloise word, hence a combination of French and Dutch.
I mentioned a bar well-known for its marionette decor in a previous submission on Toone Theater. This particular cafe, just minutes away from Toone, also teems with marionnettes. Though, to be fair, there is a more pronounced emphasis on Manneken Pis.
Same as A La Morte Subite, small dishes can be ordered. Their beer selection is quite extensive, bordering 100+. I have also included a photograph of their Christmas menu. Note the generous alcohol content. Tis the season to be jolly...
---------------------------------------------------------
Beers in Belgium: A case study
I included "Freelance Researcher" on my name card with good reason, as this short list might serve you well--with the assumption, of course, that 1) our preferences align and 2) these particular beverages are geographically available to you for purchase.
Recommended without hesitation:
Gueuze Jacobins:
Finally, a gueuze worth guzzling! I wrote before of my negative reception towards gueuze, the lambic beer made famous by the Belgians. But it seems as though this particular gueuze (of which a student of the French Revolution would naturally choose) is without that tangy, bitter, bite--perhaps uncharacteristic of the Jacobins, as some historians might suggest.
Delirium Nocturum:
I usually keep an arm's distance when it comes to ales and stouts, but this was chosen on accident. And as luck would have it, my taste-buds received it well. Perhaps it gives hope for those less inclined to choose a darker brew.
Leffe Brune:
A good friend recommended this Leffe--which coincidentally enough--played a role in the French Revolution! Well, not exactly...but the brewery supposedly fell victim to the hands of revolutionaries in 1794. In any case, it is deliciously smooth and inviting.
Tripel Karmeleit
A gentle caramel taste does a body good. But to have such a drink with a deceptively high alcohol content of 8% would do a body harm, don't you think?
Trappists: Orval, Chimay Bleue, and Chimay Blanche
Brewed by monks of the Trappist order, these ales are delicious in their own right. And with as much as 7-11% alcohol by volume...well, perhaps there is a fair balance in a life of devout spiritual devotion and celibacy.
Floris Passion Fruit:
True to its name, some might find its sweet disposition a bit too passionate for their tastes. Indeed, its aroma is quite strong, but I find its taste to be mild in proportion to its scent. Then again, I can never pass on anything passion fruit, so I'm admittedly biased.
St. Louis Kriek
Of all the krieks sampled thus far (including Morte Subite, Floris, and Lindeman's), this particular mark tops the sundae. Trust me with this morello-cherry tangy concoction with just enough sweet to make you pucker up for more.
Faro
A lambic cider with a caramelized tint, which is only customary for having been made from brown sugar and molasses. Think dry, yet with a mild hint of the sweet we Americans are accustomed to with ciders of the Woodchuck and Hornsby varieties.
Duvel
A Flemish brew with a name derived from the dutch word for "devil." And tempt you, it just might.
---------------------------------------------------------
Ehh...one time at most. Or better yet, settle for a sip of your acquaintance's
[I suggest your acquaintance simply because friends don't let friends spend money on the following beverages.]
La Chouffe Blonde:
A slightly dry blonde, but nothing exceptional. The label is quite cute, so adding to its appeal.
Floris Pomme (apple):
It was a bit chewy, as if you carbonated a diluted solution of apple compote and evaporated all the flavor you might expect from a fruit lambic.
Floris Cactus:
There is a lot of hype and expectation surrounding this one, but I was disappointed to find that it was more akin to a panache than anything else.
Vedett Blonde:
A safe choice. And a slice of lemon adds to the experience, but then again, I'm always one for adding a little fiber or 100% real fruit juice to my diet.
---------------------------------------------------------
If you are a gastronomic masochist:
Pink Killer:
Yes, by far the most ill-satisfying of my choices. Its color and taste are fairly reminiscent of soap in the mouth.
Mystic Citron Vert:
If someone hands you a tarte au citron vert, take it. It should taste something like key lime pie. But if someone were to offer you a Mystic Citron Vert, you'll know to politely decline. Watery, panache-y, and essentially a waste of your hard-earned caloric intake.
---------------------------------------------------------
Onto a subject of a different grain!
The State of Bagels in Brussels
As with France, Belgian boulangeries and patisseries procreate on a daily basis. Exaggerate, I do not. They really have a way of dotting every street corner, alongside snack and alimentation shops or pharmacies. And while many people can (and do) appreciate a pain au chocolat or tarte aux frambroises, those stricken with contemptible gall bladders just cannot enjoy most butter-laden carbohydrate fabrications like the rest.
And then there are those who desire something with a little more fibrous "oomph" than a customary baguette.
So what is one left to do? Find a whole wheat bagel and some schmear, of course! Hence, my quest.
Without choice, bagels exist as part of my staple diet. I credit my parents for having us spend every Sunday morning at the Bagel Bar in Miami Lakes, circa 1989-1994. But, regardless, reason should have it that, when bagels become hardly accessible, nay impossible to find, my hunger pangs naturally begin. So I find myself trying to satiate this craving in Brussels, cream cheese or not.
I stumbled upon only four shops in my quest, two of which I dined at so far:
---------------------------------------------------------
Sens Bagel
62 rue Armand Campenhout, 1050 Ixelles, Brussels, Beglium
(near the intersection of Avenue Louise and Rue du Magistrat)
If you have the hankering for a bagel and drink combination, with only 5 euros in your pocket to spare, there is hope in the form of Sens.
They serve only four kinds of bagels (plain, wheat, poppy, and sesame--of which they bake on-site), yet there is a lengthy two-column list of toppings (including the ever-elusive cream cheese) and a good handful of sandwich creations (ham, chicken, salmon, oh--and hamburger, too).
Seating is made available on the terrace or tucked away inside where large mirrors greet you. The interior is quite intimate, with space made available for maybe twenty people at most. However, I am not particularly fond of the patio-like furniture that somehow found its way into the interior dining area. The all-white and stainless steel decor also offers an air of sterility that I found a tad uninviting. But regardless, the establishment is certainly clean and the staff courteous.
---------------------------------------------------------
Les Gens Que J'Aime
Rue du Midi 15-17, 1000 Brussels, Belgium
(just south of La Bourse in the city centre)
If you should want to consume an everything bagel, or perhaps one baked from pureed olives, take a detour from your tour of the city center. Awaiting you at at Les Gens Que J'Aime is a list of gourmet bagel sandwiches. A toasted bagel, in combination with creamy brie and crunchy apple (drizzled in honey, no less) makes for a contrast of the senses that I have since developed a dangerous craving for.
The staff was the most inviting I have witnessed in all my dining experiences in Brussels thus far. And there is a certain charm that overtakes you when walking into a dining area littered with wooden school chairs from the 70s. The ambiance is definitely warmer than Sens, and their hours more accommodating (with food served from noon to well past ten in the evening).
**There are still two more establishments that I have yet to try: 1) The Coffee Company, just outside my school, and 2) a coffee/bagel establishment of whose name escapes me, located just opposite Luxembourg Station.**
---------------------------------------------------------
Oh--
And in case you were anxious about the bagel situation in Japan, surprised was I to find a plethora of local options.
Find your way to the refrigerated section of the grocery store and bagels await you somewhere between the pizza dough and ready-to-eat naan. They came individually wrapped in the following flavors (can you really label a bagel a flavor?): caramel, strawberry, berry-berry, mango, and chocolate. Oh, yeah, and plain was thrown in there somewhere, too.
If mango is not quite adventurous enough, try the bagel store at the basement of the JR Funabashi station. There, you can boast to your friends for having tried raisin pumpkin or green tea with white chocolate chunks. Then, if you should care to brave the madness that is Costco on a Saturday afternoon, you can purchase the ever-American Einstein's brand of cinnamon raisin, plain, onion, and cheese.
Or, if all else fails--perhaps this will satisfy you well enough:
when bagel supplies decline...
---------------------------------------------------------
A Reincarnation of the Two Fat Ladies--still British, still biking, just a different gender
Have you really made it this far in your reading?!
Thank you, devoted reader! To commend your dedicated efforts, I have provided a small clip of the visual kind, should your attention be waning.
Remember days of yonder Food Network TV when Yan Can Cook, Two Hot Tamales, and Two Fat Ladies reigned supreme?
Meet my recent discovery: The Hairy Bikers.
Keep an ear out for those harefooted similes.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgQYBqO9q-8
Enjoy!
But picture for me an American eating a bagel somewhere in Belgium, while sipping beer imported from Bolivia, simultaneously browsing the Dutch-language television channels only to happen upon a travel/cooking show hosted by a British biker-duo as they peruse through major sites across India.
In this globalized world of ours, I would not be entirely shocked to find such a combination.
And it could well happen if you know where to look in Brussels. Hence, the following submission.
And please pay no mind to the overwhelming--though hopefully not bothersome--bombardment of b's, as Brussels, Belgium, and Beckers (the street upon which I live), have a subconscious and contagious effect on me.
---------------------------------------------------------
Behold the Beer and Bars of Brussels, Belgium
Below is a quick word or few on local watering holes of honorable mention, accompanied by a list of the beers and krieks I have tried--or at least remember trying--upon moving to Brussels.
Delirium Café
Impasse de la Fidélité 4A
[city centre, down a small alleyway, just opposite of Jeanneke Pis--not to be confused with Manneken Pis]
http://www.deliriumcafe.be/
Are you jones'n for a beer or cider not found in your local supermarket? Care to browse a phone-book size listing of brews from your A to V's? (Angola to Vietnam, that is)
Sounds deleterious--wait, I mean delirious. Doesn't it?
Delirium is by no means representative of a traditional Belgian café or brasserie. But it certainly exists as one of the only places to find locals and tourists in harmonious intoxication year round.
The atmosphere in the cave is, as one would expect, quite dark, perhaps a tad damp, and yes, teeming with metaphorical rats. Beware the former wine casks that serve as your tables, as their tops are often warped and leave your drink vulnerable to spill with the gentlest of nudges.
Also pay mind to petty thieves and the unfortunate aggressive drones who, at the slightest of accidental eye contact made, will gladly fasten themselves to you for the remainder of the evening as they engage in a sinewous attempt to take you home.
For better results, try the ground floor just to the right of the entrance. The tables are much more stable, the air cleaner, the decor chipper, and the general disposition of patrons on this floor is less intrusive.
So why venture to the cave, you ask? Well, each floor serves a different beer on tap (of which there are 25+ per floor). Osmosis of the crowd, I suppose.
---------------------------------------------------------
La Morte Subite [The Sudden Death]
Rue Montagne aux Herbes Potagères 7
[city centre, just east of La Bourse]
Characterized as a traditional Belgian brasserie and famous for its own brand of beers and krieks, I present unto you La Morte Subite. The art-nouveau accents are mildly indicative of what you might find in Ixelles or Etterbeek communes of Brussels. They certainly coordinate well with the vaulted ceiling and interior walls draped with mirrors spotted from age.
At some point during your visit, I also suggest that you take the grand staircase to the first floor and look over the railing to gaze down upon the handful of waiters bustling about in synchronized, maddening motion. And it is only from above that the spectacle below resembles a giant art-nouveau game of frogger as each server, tray of drinks in hand, miraculously darts across aisles congested with bumbling tourists too entranced by the decor to pay notice.
Ready your appetite for traditional croques, sandwiches, sausages, cheese platters, and omelets. But let's be quite honest here. You really just wanted to sample the beer. And so I have provided you a front-seat view of the bar:
---------------------------------------------------------
Café Belga
Eugène Flageyplein 18
[Place Flagey, just south of Frites Flagey]
Come aboard this little beauty and discover why I made La Belga my local favorite. It is almost cafeteria-like in its design, with food and drinks ordered at separate counters and carried back to your table in trays. But there is a familial, coffee house, "perfect for sunday brunch" touch to the place different from the days of Morrison's.
The food selection varies--with soups, salads, sandwiches, and other cold appetizers always present, and at a price that is most reasonable. Then, there is the added bonus of a non-smoking interior, coupled with live jazz and d.j. nights interspersed throughout the week. You can find a small selection of beers on tap and a few more provided in bottle, but I recommend the mint tea; a warm cup of freshly steamed herbs, with customary spekulaas in hand, makes for quite the content Kat.
---------------------------------------------------------
Goupil le Fol [The Mad Fox]
Rue de la Violette 22
[city centre, due east of the Grand Place]
Think estate sale of the most eclectic, eccentric, and maybe even ecclesiastical. Wind your way up a seriously narrow circular staircase to discover that no wall or ceiling of the establishment's four floors is without ornamentation. I am especially fond of their house made fruit wines and a juke box of whose musical menu is a prismatic reflection of the decor.
---------------------------------------------------------
Le Poechenellekelder [The House of Marionettes]
Eikstraat 5
[city centre, opposite of Manneken Pis]
Disarm your spell check. This is a Bruxelloise word, hence a combination of French and Dutch.
I mentioned a bar well-known for its marionette decor in a previous submission on Toone Theater. This particular cafe, just minutes away from Toone, also teems with marionnettes. Though, to be fair, there is a more pronounced emphasis on Manneken Pis.
Same as A La Morte Subite, small dishes can be ordered. Their beer selection is quite extensive, bordering 100+. I have also included a photograph of their Christmas menu. Note the generous alcohol content. Tis the season to be jolly...
---------------------------------------------------------
Beers in Belgium: A case study
I included "Freelance Researcher" on my name card with good reason, as this short list might serve you well--with the assumption, of course, that 1) our preferences align and 2) these particular beverages are geographically available to you for purchase.
Recommended without hesitation:
Gueuze Jacobins:
Finally, a gueuze worth guzzling! I wrote before of my negative reception towards gueuze, the lambic beer made famous by the Belgians. But it seems as though this particular gueuze (of which a student of the French Revolution would naturally choose) is without that tangy, bitter, bite--perhaps uncharacteristic of the Jacobins, as some historians might suggest.
Delirium Nocturum:
I usually keep an arm's distance when it comes to ales and stouts, but this was chosen on accident. And as luck would have it, my taste-buds received it well. Perhaps it gives hope for those less inclined to choose a darker brew.
Leffe Brune:
A good friend recommended this Leffe--which coincidentally enough--played a role in the French Revolution! Well, not exactly...but the brewery supposedly fell victim to the hands of revolutionaries in 1794. In any case, it is deliciously smooth and inviting.
Tripel Karmeleit
A gentle caramel taste does a body good. But to have such a drink with a deceptively high alcohol content of 8% would do a body harm, don't you think?
Trappists: Orval, Chimay Bleue, and Chimay Blanche
Brewed by monks of the Trappist order, these ales are delicious in their own right. And with as much as 7-11% alcohol by volume...well, perhaps there is a fair balance in a life of devout spiritual devotion and celibacy.
Floris Passion Fruit:
True to its name, some might find its sweet disposition a bit too passionate for their tastes. Indeed, its aroma is quite strong, but I find its taste to be mild in proportion to its scent. Then again, I can never pass on anything passion fruit, so I'm admittedly biased.
St. Louis Kriek
Of all the krieks sampled thus far (including Morte Subite, Floris, and Lindeman's), this particular mark tops the sundae. Trust me with this morello-cherry tangy concoction with just enough sweet to make you pucker up for more.
Faro
A lambic cider with a caramelized tint, which is only customary for having been made from brown sugar and molasses. Think dry, yet with a mild hint of the sweet we Americans are accustomed to with ciders of the Woodchuck and Hornsby varieties.
Duvel
A Flemish brew with a name derived from the dutch word for "devil." And tempt you, it just might.
---------------------------------------------------------
Ehh...one time at most. Or better yet, settle for a sip of your acquaintance's
[I suggest your acquaintance simply because friends don't let friends spend money on the following beverages.]
La Chouffe Blonde:
A slightly dry blonde, but nothing exceptional. The label is quite cute, so adding to its appeal.
Floris Pomme (apple):
It was a bit chewy, as if you carbonated a diluted solution of apple compote and evaporated all the flavor you might expect from a fruit lambic.
Floris Cactus:
There is a lot of hype and expectation surrounding this one, but I was disappointed to find that it was more akin to a panache than anything else.
Vedett Blonde:
A safe choice. And a slice of lemon adds to the experience, but then again, I'm always one for adding a little fiber or 100% real fruit juice to my diet.
---------------------------------------------------------
If you are a gastronomic masochist:
Pink Killer:
Yes, by far the most ill-satisfying of my choices. Its color and taste are fairly reminiscent of soap in the mouth.
Mystic Citron Vert:
If someone hands you a tarte au citron vert, take it. It should taste something like key lime pie. But if someone were to offer you a Mystic Citron Vert, you'll know to politely decline. Watery, panache-y, and essentially a waste of your hard-earned caloric intake.
---------------------------------------------------------
Onto a subject of a different grain!
The State of Bagels in Brussels
As with France, Belgian boulangeries and patisseries procreate on a daily basis. Exaggerate, I do not. They really have a way of dotting every street corner, alongside snack and alimentation shops or pharmacies. And while many people can (and do) appreciate a pain au chocolat or tarte aux frambroises, those stricken with contemptible gall bladders just cannot enjoy most butter-laden carbohydrate fabrications like the rest.
And then there are those who desire something with a little more fibrous "oomph" than a customary baguette.
So what is one left to do? Find a whole wheat bagel and some schmear, of course! Hence, my quest.
Without choice, bagels exist as part of my staple diet. I credit my parents for having us spend every Sunday morning at the Bagel Bar in Miami Lakes, circa 1989-1994. But, regardless, reason should have it that, when bagels become hardly accessible, nay impossible to find, my hunger pangs naturally begin. So I find myself trying to satiate this craving in Brussels, cream cheese or not.
I stumbled upon only four shops in my quest, two of which I dined at so far:
---------------------------------------------------------
Sens Bagel
62 rue Armand Campenhout, 1050 Ixelles, Brussels, Beglium
(near the intersection of Avenue Louise and Rue du Magistrat)
If you have the hankering for a bagel and drink combination, with only 5 euros in your pocket to spare, there is hope in the form of Sens.
 |
| Je me sens [I feel] like a bagel, and perhaps it is this exact sentiment Sens Bagel projects onto innocent passersby with this hearty, humousy handful. |
They serve only four kinds of bagels (plain, wheat, poppy, and sesame--of which they bake on-site), yet there is a lengthy two-column list of toppings (including the ever-elusive cream cheese) and a good handful of sandwich creations (ham, chicken, salmon, oh--and hamburger, too).
Seating is made available on the terrace or tucked away inside where large mirrors greet you. The interior is quite intimate, with space made available for maybe twenty people at most. However, I am not particularly fond of the patio-like furniture that somehow found its way into the interior dining area. The all-white and stainless steel decor also offers an air of sterility that I found a tad uninviting. But regardless, the establishment is certainly clean and the staff courteous.
---------------------------------------------------------
Les Gens Que J'Aime
Rue du Midi 15-17, 1000 Brussels, Belgium
(just south of La Bourse in the city centre)
If you should want to consume an everything bagel, or perhaps one baked from pureed olives, take a detour from your tour of the city center. Awaiting you at at Les Gens Que J'Aime is a list of gourmet bagel sandwiches. A toasted bagel, in combination with creamy brie and crunchy apple (drizzled in honey, no less) makes for a contrast of the senses that I have since developed a dangerous craving for.
The staff was the most inviting I have witnessed in all my dining experiences in Brussels thus far. And there is a certain charm that overtakes you when walking into a dining area littered with wooden school chairs from the 70s. The ambiance is definitely warmer than Sens, and their hours more accommodating (with food served from noon to well past ten in the evening).
**There are still two more establishments that I have yet to try: 1) The Coffee Company, just outside my school, and 2) a coffee/bagel establishment of whose name escapes me, located just opposite Luxembourg Station.**
---------------------------------------------------------
Oh--
And in case you were anxious about the bagel situation in Japan, surprised was I to find a plethora of local options.
Find your way to the refrigerated section of the grocery store and bagels await you somewhere between the pizza dough and ready-to-eat naan. They came individually wrapped in the following flavors (can you really label a bagel a flavor?): caramel, strawberry, berry-berry, mango, and chocolate. Oh, yeah, and plain was thrown in there somewhere, too.
If mango is not quite adventurous enough, try the bagel store at the basement of the JR Funabashi station. There, you can boast to your friends for having tried raisin pumpkin or green tea with white chocolate chunks. Then, if you should care to brave the madness that is Costco on a Saturday afternoon, you can purchase the ever-American Einstein's brand of cinnamon raisin, plain, onion, and cheese.
Or, if all else fails--perhaps this will satisfy you well enough:
when bagel supplies decline...
---------------------------------------------------------
A Reincarnation of the Two Fat Ladies--still British, still biking, just a different gender
Have you really made it this far in your reading?!
Thank you, devoted reader! To commend your dedicated efforts, I have provided a small clip of the visual kind, should your attention be waning.
Remember days of yonder Food Network TV when Yan Can Cook, Two Hot Tamales, and Two Fat Ladies reigned supreme?
Meet my recent discovery: The Hairy Bikers.
Keep an ear out for those harefooted similes.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgQYBqO9q-8
Enjoy!
10.27.2010
For the Love of Frites!
** [Addendum Alert] **
Forget all that you are about to read regarding Frites Flagey.
I just visited the friterie at Place Jourdan--for the sake of research, if you will.
And it certainly reigns supreme--in taste and texture, but not necessarily wait-time.
Plus, the surrounding area is quite beautiful and littered with charming cafes from which you can enjoy your frites alongside a drink of choice.
But enjoy this excerpt anyway!
For the Love of Frites!
There sits a metal stand painted cream and forest green, best described as unassuming. Its interior is no bigger than your average white, unmarked van--maybe with a little added ceiling space--and yet, like most things modest, it exists as one of the premiere friteries in the greater Brussels area.
Perhaps it is a thing of legends--or just sheer real-estate savviness.
Let us see...
Step 1: Place yourself in the center of an area densely populated by bars and cafes.
Step 2: Stay open late enough to accommodate those persons, generally drunk and hungry after a night of drinking at said bars and cafés, who crave something cheap, greasy, and within close proximity..
Step 3: Operate the station with as little staff as possible to extend the wait time (upwards of 2 hours in some instances), which therein magnifies the hunger-to-pocketbook-to-taste ratio.
Ultimately, customers are so striken with hunger, they order a size larger than what they first desired, with some additional toppings or croquettes to boot. And because they have waited with such fiery anticipation, expectations turn into projections, thereby making the food, when consumed, taste nothing short of divine. Also, I am told that frites have saved many a person from hungovers the next day. Power to the frites! Who knew all that oil and starch could do a body good, after all?!
So voilà! Recipe for an exceptional reputation!
I took part in this Brussels ritual (minus the visit to the bars. It was saturday brunch-time, after all).
Call it cultural immersion or research, either will do.
The results:
Well, they are difficult to gauge because there were too many variables:
1) While I am a consumer of frites, they are not generally part of my staple diet. Hence, I am no expert.
2) I surely fell victim to the mathematics raio described above.
And here's why:
In all sincerity, I would not have minded the 1.5 hour wait time, had it not been RIDICULOUSLY cold, wet, and windy. Fortunately, I had a friend to share in my misery. And luckily we defrosted while enjoying those frites alongside a few steaming cups of tea.
Oh, and while we're at it--here is another link between frites and mathematics:
frostbite
frostbite / 2 = frost bite
(fr)ost + b(ite) = frite
frite multiplied = frites!
frostbite, frites, one in the same--virtually...
Out of the 30+ toppings available, here are some favorites of mine:
mayo (a european must, but in moderation)
curry ketchup
tartar
sugar (a family favorite)
honey (if I remember to stow some away in my purse for later consumption)
*chocolate milkshakes (too bad they have not added a malt-shop annex to the business; though, that would only give cause for people to start camping in line as a result of the additional wait-time potential)
Post script: Just today, I was told by a local that Frites Flagey is overrated. She recommended a friterie located in Place Jordan. I suppose my waistline will have to succomb to more research...
Forget all that you are about to read regarding Frites Flagey.
I just visited the friterie at Place Jourdan--for the sake of research, if you will.
And it certainly reigns supreme--in taste and texture, but not necessarily wait-time.
Plus, the surrounding area is quite beautiful and littered with charming cafes from which you can enjoy your frites alongside a drink of choice.
But enjoy this excerpt anyway!
For the Love of Frites!
There sits a metal stand painted cream and forest green, best described as unassuming. Its interior is no bigger than your average white, unmarked van--maybe with a little added ceiling space--and yet, like most things modest, it exists as one of the premiere friteries in the greater Brussels area.
Perhaps it is a thing of legends--or just sheer real-estate savviness.
Let us see...
Step 1: Place yourself in the center of an area densely populated by bars and cafes.
Step 2: Stay open late enough to accommodate those persons, generally drunk and hungry after a night of drinking at said bars and cafés, who crave something cheap, greasy, and within close proximity..
Step 3: Operate the station with as little staff as possible to extend the wait time (upwards of 2 hours in some instances), which therein magnifies the hunger-to-pocketbook-to-taste ratio.
Ultimately, customers are so striken with hunger, they order a size larger than what they first desired, with some additional toppings or croquettes to boot. And because they have waited with such fiery anticipation, expectations turn into projections, thereby making the food, when consumed, taste nothing short of divine. Also, I am told that frites have saved many a person from hungovers the next day. Power to the frites! Who knew all that oil and starch could do a body good, after all?!
So voilà! Recipe for an exceptional reputation!
I took part in this Brussels ritual (minus the visit to the bars. It was saturday brunch-time, after all).
Call it cultural immersion or research, either will do.
The results:
Well, they are difficult to gauge because there were too many variables:
1) While I am a consumer of frites, they are not generally part of my staple diet. Hence, I am no expert.
2) I surely fell victim to the mathematics raio described above.
And here's why:
In all sincerity, I would not have minded the 1.5 hour wait time, had it not been RIDICULOUSLY cold, wet, and windy. Fortunately, I had a friend to share in my misery. And luckily we defrosted while enjoying those frites alongside a few steaming cups of tea.
Oh, and while we're at it--here is another link between frites and mathematics:
frostbite
frostbite / 2 = frost bite
(fr)ost + b(ite) = frite
frite multiplied = frites!
frostbite, frites, one in the same--virtually...
 | |
| can you sense the cold in my expression? |
Out of the 30+ toppings available, here are some favorites of mine:
mayo (a european must, but in moderation)
curry ketchup
tartar
sugar (a family favorite)
honey (if I remember to stow some away in my purse for later consumption)
*chocolate milkshakes (too bad they have not added a malt-shop annex to the business; though, that would only give cause for people to start camping in line as a result of the additional wait-time potential)
Post script: Just today, I was told by a local that Frites Flagey is overrated. She recommended a friterie located in Place Jordan. I suppose my waistline will have to succomb to more research...
10.07.2010
A Weekend With Marionettes, Gueuze, and Vietnamese Curry
A Weekend With
Marionettes, Gueuze, and Vietnamese Curry
I recently brushed against a curious advertisement for a marionette production of Faust--and paused. Marionette, huh? How European.
Glorious are the opportunities afforded to us by the internet, for I was pleased to find that, even with Faust no longer on the schedule, still more shows were to be had. The theater, Toone; the current production: Jekyll & Hyde.
With friends found, we ourselves found Toone theater only with the help of well-positioned signage. It rests down an unassuming alleyway and stands as a marker of times when city centers had little more to offer than an inn and pub for local entertainment. There is also an attached bar whose wooden interior and marionette-laiden decor conjured images of the seedier, ill-weathered life of our beloved Pinnochio.
Amateur captures of Toone's Jekyll and Hyde:
I am an advocate for the resurgence of puppetry in popular culture, so this was a most exciting experience. The performers moved with great skill and ambidexterity--so much so, I soon forgot their presence entirely. All the characters were voiced by one performer, who, I do believe was also the ticket seller, master of ceremonies, and refreshment vendor.
Toone, as I am told, does not favor well in the strict confines of the great theatrical or literary works it produces. That being said, I am pleased to report that their showing of Jekyll and Hyde, while still true to the original story overall, was flavoured with many-a contemporary reference and sexual inuendo. And you are forewarned--the entire performance takes place in French (which made for quite the happy Kat).
For more information regarding Toone Theater, see below.
---------------------------------------------------------
Toone Theater
http://www.toone.be/
The website is relatively easy to navigate and reservations can be made without payment in advance. They have performances Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings, but we opted for a 16h00 show (Saturdays only). I would estimate seating for more than 70 people, but we occupied less than 20 that afternoon.
Adults: 10 euro / Students: 7 euro
Just a skip from Grand Place, city centre.
---------------------------------------------------------
Before I delve further, I should probably acknowledge that I plan to comment on the different beers that I just so happen across. Call it a personal archive, if you will.
That being said, I just recently tried Gueuze. I savoured Kriek on a previous occasion, but Gueuze is straight lambic--none of this fruity-tooty-oh-so-goody Morello cherry business. Lambic, known best by its process of spontaneous fermentation, is special to the southwestern region of Belgium. The taste also greatly differs from ales and lagers, as I was unfortunate to discover.
While I appreciate the spirit of adventure and of trying new things, that was about all I could stand to appreciate when drinking Gueuze. It was rather pugent--but caustic smells aside, the taste was too yeasty. Essentially, there was a strong cidery bite at first, followed by a bitter, sour aftertaste that simply disagreed with my tastebuds.
But alas, I will eventually try Gueuze more times than this once. Perhaps it was simply an ill-fitted brand. Or perhaps Gueuze itself is an acquired taste, like blue cheese, black olives, and after-school sitcom replays from the 1990s.
---------------------------------------------------------
Onward to the more satiating...
Should you ever find yourself hankering for great Vietnamese food while wandering the area near Flagey--stop. look. and find tram 81. Follow the tracks north, and before reaching Avenue Louise, look to your right. If you can make it past the local rotisserie, which so often tempts me with its unwavering aromas, seat yourself in the Vietnamese restaurant nearby (whose name I completely omitted to remember). It's here that you will be greeted with a dish such as this:
12 euro set dinner includes:
*choice of soup (I recommend the pho--a staple Vietnamese dish, plus the beef was the most tender I've had in some time. A little on the salty side, but delicious in its small proportion)
*imperial roll with sauce
*savory beef curry with vegetables a-plenty
*rice (with bits of corn, peas, and bell pepper added)
*pickled cabbage
*one fried onion ring and apple slice
*dessert
The restaurant is open seven days a week as well. Bon appetit!
Marionettes, Gueuze, and Vietnamese Curry
I recently brushed against a curious advertisement for a marionette production of Faust--and paused. Marionette, huh? How European.
Glorious are the opportunities afforded to us by the internet, for I was pleased to find that, even with Faust no longer on the schedule, still more shows were to be had. The theater, Toone; the current production: Jekyll & Hyde.
With friends found, we ourselves found Toone theater only with the help of well-positioned signage. It rests down an unassuming alleyway and stands as a marker of times when city centers had little more to offer than an inn and pub for local entertainment. There is also an attached bar whose wooden interior and marionette-laiden decor conjured images of the seedier, ill-weathered life of our beloved Pinnochio.
Amateur captures of Toone's Jekyll and Hyde:
I am an advocate for the resurgence of puppetry in popular culture, so this was a most exciting experience. The performers moved with great skill and ambidexterity--so much so, I soon forgot their presence entirely. All the characters were voiced by one performer, who, I do believe was also the ticket seller, master of ceremonies, and refreshment vendor.
Toone, as I am told, does not favor well in the strict confines of the great theatrical or literary works it produces. That being said, I am pleased to report that their showing of Jekyll and Hyde, while still true to the original story overall, was flavoured with many-a contemporary reference and sexual inuendo. And you are forewarned--the entire performance takes place in French (which made for quite the happy Kat).
For more information regarding Toone Theater, see below.
---------------------------------------------------------
Toone Theater
http://www.toone.be/
The website is relatively easy to navigate and reservations can be made without payment in advance. They have performances Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings, but we opted for a 16h00 show (Saturdays only). I would estimate seating for more than 70 people, but we occupied less than 20 that afternoon.
Adults: 10 euro / Students: 7 euro
Just a skip from Grand Place, city centre.
---------------------------------------------------------
Before I delve further, I should probably acknowledge that I plan to comment on the different beers that I just so happen across. Call it a personal archive, if you will.
That being said, I just recently tried Gueuze. I savoured Kriek on a previous occasion, but Gueuze is straight lambic--none of this fruity-tooty-oh-so-goody Morello cherry business. Lambic, known best by its process of spontaneous fermentation, is special to the southwestern region of Belgium. The taste also greatly differs from ales and lagers, as I was unfortunate to discover.
 |
| Also spelled "Geuze"--Here, I chased my lambic with a tarte au citron vert (oddly reminiscent of key lime pie) |
While I appreciate the spirit of adventure and of trying new things, that was about all I could stand to appreciate when drinking Gueuze. It was rather pugent--but caustic smells aside, the taste was too yeasty. Essentially, there was a strong cidery bite at first, followed by a bitter, sour aftertaste that simply disagreed with my tastebuds.
But alas, I will eventually try Gueuze more times than this once. Perhaps it was simply an ill-fitted brand. Or perhaps Gueuze itself is an acquired taste, like blue cheese, black olives, and after-school sitcom replays from the 1990s.
---------------------------------------------------------
Onward to the more satiating...
Should you ever find yourself hankering for great Vietnamese food while wandering the area near Flagey--stop. look. and find tram 81. Follow the tracks north, and before reaching Avenue Louise, look to your right. If you can make it past the local rotisserie, which so often tempts me with its unwavering aromas, seat yourself in the Vietnamese restaurant nearby (whose name I completely omitted to remember). It's here that you will be greeted with a dish such as this:
12 euro set dinner includes:
*choice of soup (I recommend the pho--a staple Vietnamese dish, plus the beef was the most tender I've had in some time. A little on the salty side, but delicious in its small proportion)
*imperial roll with sauce
*savory beef curry with vegetables a-plenty
*rice (with bits of corn, peas, and bell pepper added)
*pickled cabbage
*one fried onion ring and apple slice
*dessert
The restaurant is open seven days a week as well. Bon appetit!
10.01.2010
Brussels: First Impressions
Brussels: First Impressions
First impressions can be a tricky beast to tame and should likewise be cultivated with sincere caution. But when such an imprint happens to be of a positive disposition, as did mine of Brussels, I am inclined, then, to nurture and hopefully promulgate this positive image that the city has so early planted.
As the story goes--
I left the temperate, sun-kissed weather of Florida and arrived on a moderately cold Sunday morning. More shocking than temperate differences, however, was the landscape. Surprised was I to find the streets empty of cars, for the city was celebrating its annual Dimanche Sans Voiture (Car-Free Sunday). The universe orchestrated an excellent plan, as I was picked up from the airport and driven home within minutes before the one-day ban on cars became active.
Nestled between the Cinquantenaire to the east, the city centre to the north, and universities to the south, my home was just a quick tram ride to the day's festivities. Jet-lagged, I was not—and thankfully so, because with winter jacket found (after a few good minutes manipulating my over-stuffed, albeit expertly organized, suitcases), I was able to enjoy the pedestrian/cyclist/roller-blader/segway-user/horse-rider friendly streets.
---------------------------------------------------------
To arrive on such a day was significant for me. My wanderings that Sunday made the realization of my stay all the more surreal and fanciful--as illustrated by the festivals, open-air markets, tents of beer, musical performances, and sport competitions (all situated under marvelously rare blue skies).
The city had a pulse--and a lively one, at that. Ultimately, this is the Europe I wish to see at every turn.
---------------------------------------------------------
It has now been over week since my arrival and I have compiled a user-friendly bulleted list of observations:
*Brussels has an intricate network of buses, trams, and trains that are relatively easy to navigate. The problem arises when you've just lived a year in a country (Japan) where public transportation actually follows a set time-table. One can arrive at a stop in Brussels and expect a wait time of 0 to never--as I recently experienced this past Wednesday. That tram never did come. And by never, I mean having stood peacefully and eagerly at the bench for 45 minutes.
*Forgive me as I add another (regrettably unflattering) comment about public transportation. But every rider should know that there is an insufficient number of buttons. Yes, buttons--you read correctly. Buttons are essential for exiting the buses and trams, but it requires unimaginable skill to place oneself in a convenient spot to reach them. I suppose you could always risk having to play "telephone" with your fellow commuters, asking each one down the line to tell the other the push the button. Hopefully, your message makes it down in time before the bus/tram passes your stop--or--that your message, "poussez le bouton, s'il vous plaît," has not morphed into something inexplicably odd, such as "le fou sait le futon" (the fool knows the futon) or "poulet est le doux thon" (chicken is the sweet tuna).
*On a more positive note--compared to my experiences in Japan, there are sidewalks here! And ones large enough to allow several individuals to pass each other with little to no fear of getting one's personal space imposed upon.
*Cultural programs are plenty--and my favorite of the season is "Nocturnes." Different museums grant access until 10pm or midnight each Thursday until mid-December. I found myself rather fortunate to have chosen the Bellvue museum my first week in town. Upon my arrival to the museum doors, I was presented with free entry and a flashlight. The former needs no explanation; the latter--well, let's just say that I would never turn down the opportunity to explore a museum in the dark. Since childhood, I have always wanted to be trapped in a museum over night, free and able to explore exhibits as I please. And though I did not have quite the same liberties as I dreamt before, my inner child was quite satiated.
*And my, have I seen a return to childhood in recent days! In yet another impressively creative approach to museum design, the free BIP exhibition at the Place Royale set my heart ablaze. I stumbled into an unassuming white-washed room and there I found models of buildings and sites famous to Brussels--all plush, light-weight, and eager to be rearranged at my choosing.
That seems sufficient enough for my first week. More photographs later to come.
First impressions can be a tricky beast to tame and should likewise be cultivated with sincere caution. But when such an imprint happens to be of a positive disposition, as did mine of Brussels, I am inclined, then, to nurture and hopefully promulgate this positive image that the city has so early planted.
As the story goes--
I left the temperate, sun-kissed weather of Florida and arrived on a moderately cold Sunday morning. More shocking than temperate differences, however, was the landscape. Surprised was I to find the streets empty of cars, for the city was celebrating its annual Dimanche Sans Voiture (Car-Free Sunday). The universe orchestrated an excellent plan, as I was picked up from the airport and driven home within minutes before the one-day ban on cars became active.
Nestled between the Cinquantenaire to the east, the city centre to the north, and universities to the south, my home was just a quick tram ride to the day's festivities. Jet-lagged, I was not—and thankfully so, because with winter jacket found (after a few good minutes manipulating my over-stuffed, albeit expertly organized, suitcases), I was able to enjoy the pedestrian/cyclist/roller-blader/segway-user/horse-rider friendly streets.
 |
| Cyclists litter the entrance leading to Merode station |
 | |
| Cinquantenaire |
 | |
| The latest contraption in son-pinned-unfairly-against-father sunday competitions. |
---------------------------------------------------------
To arrive on such a day was significant for me. My wanderings that Sunday made the realization of my stay all the more surreal and fanciful--as illustrated by the festivals, open-air markets, tents of beer, musical performances, and sport competitions (all situated under marvelously rare blue skies).
The city had a pulse--and a lively one, at that. Ultimately, this is the Europe I wish to see at every turn.
---------------------------------------------------------
It has now been over week since my arrival and I have compiled a user-friendly bulleted list of observations:
*Brussels has an intricate network of buses, trams, and trains that are relatively easy to navigate. The problem arises when you've just lived a year in a country (Japan) where public transportation actually follows a set time-table. One can arrive at a stop in Brussels and expect a wait time of 0 to never--as I recently experienced this past Wednesday. That tram never did come. And by never, I mean having stood peacefully and eagerly at the bench for 45 minutes.
*Forgive me as I add another (regrettably unflattering) comment about public transportation. But every rider should know that there is an insufficient number of buttons. Yes, buttons--you read correctly. Buttons are essential for exiting the buses and trams, but it requires unimaginable skill to place oneself in a convenient spot to reach them. I suppose you could always risk having to play "telephone" with your fellow commuters, asking each one down the line to tell the other the push the button. Hopefully, your message makes it down in time before the bus/tram passes your stop--or--that your message, "poussez le bouton, s'il vous plaît," has not morphed into something inexplicably odd, such as "le fou sait le futon" (the fool knows the futon) or "poulet est le doux thon" (chicken is the sweet tuna).
 |
| Two cards in a series entitled, "Les Bonnes Manières." To the left, we see proper etiquette when riding the metro and bus. |
*On a more positive note--compared to my experiences in Japan, there are sidewalks here! And ones large enough to allow several individuals to pass each other with little to no fear of getting one's personal space imposed upon.
*Cultural programs are plenty--and my favorite of the season is "Nocturnes." Different museums grant access until 10pm or midnight each Thursday until mid-December. I found myself rather fortunate to have chosen the Bellvue museum my first week in town. Upon my arrival to the museum doors, I was presented with free entry and a flashlight. The former needs no explanation; the latter--well, let's just say that I would never turn down the opportunity to explore a museum in the dark. Since childhood, I have always wanted to be trapped in a museum over night, free and able to explore exhibits as I please. And though I did not have quite the same liberties as I dreamt before, my inner child was quite satiated.
*And my, have I seen a return to childhood in recent days! In yet another impressively creative approach to museum design, the free BIP exhibition at the Place Royale set my heart ablaze. I stumbled into an unassuming white-washed room and there I found models of buildings and sites famous to Brussels--all plush, light-weight, and eager to be rearranged at my choosing.
 |
| Imaginative oral history exhibit at BIP. Each umbrella houses a speaker from which to listen. |
 |
| Another focus on the auditory experience. Each droplet(?) plays various recordings of people, music, sounds, etc. |
That seems sufficient enough for my first week. More photographs later to come.
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