MORE THAN JUST WAFFLES

Pursuant my recent expression of warm love and respect for Europeans (here: Savage Euro Trashing), reader and friend of blog Graham expresses bafflement.
I had mentioned that Belgians were good cooks.
He wishes to know why.


Short answer: because it is true.


Long answer: When Savage Kitten and I visited Europe the first time together, the food was a stumbling block. After a week in England, I had 24 hour acid-indigestion AND constipation - the first was due to the English custom of deep-frying everything (Spam fritter, deep-fried snickers bar, Scotch Egg, Mahogany-hued 'Chimichanga', curried eggrolls....), the latter because there are no vegetables to be found in the British Isles. None.
The place itself is delightfully green, your plate isn't.

The first vegetables we saw in Europe were at a Chinese Restaurant in Utrecht, the evening that we arrived in Holland.
While staying in Amsterdam, whenever we needed veggies (the Dutch ALSO deep-fry everything), we would go to an Asian restaurant. Or Belgium.


Savage Kitten, speaking of food: "The Belgians knock the socks off of you Dutch".


She's right. Raw herring is lovely, so is smoked eel. As well as deep-fried unidentifiable object. All washed down with Genever.

But Belgians actually cook.

Waterzooi. Ardenner roast with mushroom sauce. Shrimps in a cream and white wine sauce. Breadpudding. Pork loin with bockbeer sauce. Baked goose livers with a dry fruit compote. Pheasant with a cassis reduction. Venison tournedos with wild mushrooms and herbs. Veal chops with jus enriched with port. Anguille au vert. Chicken breast stuffed with fresh herbs and summer vegetables. Potato-leek soup with peeled shrimp.
Fried foods, pastries of infinite variety, confections.
Hearty stews and subtle soups, rabbits and nicely larded gamebirds.


Asperges, eels, charcuterie, mussels, potatoes - all in a thousand different preparations.


And seafood. Lots and lots of lovely fresh seafood.


After a four hour train-trip from Amsterdam to Antwerpen, Savage Kitten had low blood sugar (my fault - I had kept her from visiting every herring stand between our hotel and the Centraal Station). It was a cold day, she had not eaten since breakfast (no herring whatso-ever!!!), and even the prospect of shopping like a mad-woman could not cheer her up. So I dragged her to a restaurant near the Grote Markt. She perked up a little from the heat, but not enough to try to figure out the menu. I ordered seafood. Then more seafood. And some more after that. We stayed there for five hours, before waddling back to the station.
She was happy as a clam.

Her enthusiasm for visits to Antwerpen increased enormously after that meal. We went several more times that trip, and again two years later. The Antwerp Cathedral may be the ultimate in mediaeval nouveau riche vulgarity, but the local food is dynamite - the best reason to visit Antwerpen.
Culinarily, Belgians just about knock the socks off the Dutch.

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NOTE: Next time we go to Europe, I'm dragging that woman to La Maison Du Cygne in Brussels. Time to introduce her to a family haunt. I regret not having done so yet.