Restaurant Review, chez nous, Bruxelles

Having friends over in London, we can be reasonably sure that when 11pm comes, they will have a Cinderella-like moment of panic, and quickly leave before the last train/tube turns back into a pumpkin. Not so in Brussels, where the old-fashioned art of walking home is alive and well, meaning that there’s nothing to stop one’s soiree drifting on into the night.

And so it was last night, when we returned the favour of dinner for our new Kiwi friends. Determined not to be outdone by grilled aubergines and buttermilk, we cooked a tasty vegetable biryani. It was certainly a relief that it turned out ok, as it would have been a cruel blow to have spent the better part of Saturday traipsing round the African quarter for all the various ingredients, only then to end up cooking something disgusting. In fact, it’s doubly fortunate that the food was good, as we have enough leftovers to sustain us for at least three weeks. Here's today's portion:
We were also joined for dessert by some friends from work who were having their own rival curry upstairs – I must say that this was a very clever ploy on our part to make the only two sets of people we know here think we’re amazingly popular.

Anyway, the downside of such leisurely evenings as last night is the fact that you always have time for just one more drink. Here’s the damage: Needless to say, today is most certainly a day of rest.

Dancing in the street

If you doubt the coolness of Brussels, then know this: people here literally party in the streets:
This was Friday evening at Place Polaert, which just so happens to be five minutes from our house (and a lot flatter than my wonky picture suggests). As you can see, the youth of Brussels was out in force to mark the latest in the Aperos Urbains – a run of weekly street parties that take place here over the summer months.

Yann and I did some mingling here with my work friends before heading to the park for another open air party organised by some other EC interns. The latter was, I’m afraid to say, not so well attended, and we were eventually driven away by the evening’s live act, a group of Brazilian drummers who made up for in volume what they lacked in rhythm.

Not ones to let our evening be cut short, we headed to Hector Chicken, Brussels’ take on KFC. What better way to end an evening!

More Magritte Madness

Here, for lovers of the absurd, is a picture of me and Yann taken at the opening of the Magritte Museum a couple of weeks ago.

When the supply of visitors dries up...

Being in Brussels, we have discovered a novel way of measuring our popularity in terms of how long we could sustain a flow of visitors. We managed a little under four months, which is, I must say, better than we might have anticipated.

Now that things have slowed down, we’ve resorted to stealing other people’s guests, joining work friend + friend for drinks at the delightful Perroquet on Friday night and for brunch at Bla Bla this morning. Perroquet is a particular favourite, as it brings together proximity to our flat with a pretty art nouveau interior, a good beer selection and a menu of pittas as long as a giraffe’s neck. Bla Bla felt more like bleurgh bleurgh after staggering out, having spent two hours grazing on their tasty all-you-can-eat brunch buffet. I don’t plan on eating for at least two days.

I am also pleased to report that yesterday we attended our first Brussels dinner party, hosted by some of Yann’s friends from work. Their stylish loft, the meal of grilled aubergine with buttermilk sauce, and the cosmopolitan company (from Lithuania, Italy, New Zealand and Spain) made for an exceptionally bo-ho soiree, the likes of which I can only aspire to host. Naturally the evening finished rather later than it should have when the gin ran dry and we realised that we were the only people still there.