Sunday, 6 August 2023

Mussels from Brussels

 


I was expecting to use the quote "Mussels from Brussels" sometime during our stay here - but we were usurped by the chef at tonight's restaurant using it, with a gallic shrug that I couldn't possibly have managed, so in the end it was an even more impactful use of this pun on Jean-Claude Van Damme's famous "Muscles from Brussels" title. But more of that later, first a look around the area where we are staying.


Saint Catherine

The section of Brussels in which the hotel is located is just off the Grand Place (Grote Markt in Flemish) in the district known as Ste Catherine. With the Grand Place as the main direction for tomorrow's travel, we decided to walk up through St. Catherine's tonight. 

Leaving the hotel, we walked the 100 yards to the Church of St. John the Baptist, this 17th century Flemish church is now the centre of what is called the House of Compassion, a Christian group dedicated to  equality, compassion and the care of creation.

One street from St. John's and we are in the heart of St. Catherine's with the Quai du Commerce, Quai aux Briques, Quai du Bois a Brûler and Quai aux Pierre de Tailles this area shows that, the river isn't far away. As the French word Quai means the same as the English (borrowed word) quay, as in dock or wharf. This area was originally part of Brussels port. The area also has the Flemish name Vismet as the Quai auz Brigues, in particular, was the town's fish market. 




We did make a visit to the Church of St. Catherine, a spectacular, some might say gaudy, gothic church. However, on Friday evening the church is used for Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, so lovely for some time of quiet prayer, but not an occasion when photos would have been appropriate.


Dinner at Rugbyman n° Two



An hour after leaving the hotel and wandering the streets of St. Catherine's we arrived at the restaurant intriguingly called Rugbyman n° Two for our 7.30pm booking. I had chosen the restaurant based on its fish menu (it is still Friday) and its proximity to the hotel, for our first meal in a new city.


The meal began with a bowl of olives

and a basket of bread. As noted in my previous post, everything on the menu here was tri-lingual - French, Flemish and English - so I could say we had olives, olijven, olives with pain, brood, bread - though I think naming everything three times might get a bit repetitive, so for simplicities sake we will stay with English.


It is interesting to note of course is that English's influences are eclectic. Here the word for olive comes to us from the French and bread from the Germanic root of original Anglo-Saxon. A language reflecting culture: posh esoteric foods taking the gentry's french language, ordinary foods using the language of the local Saxons or sometimes, and especially in Yorkshire, the Dane's word. It is why English is so unusual in having a different word for its meat as served on table (Beef, Pork, Mutton) from the names of the animals (Cow, Pig, Sheep).

Drew surprised me by having Carpaccio of red tuna, arugula and herb olive oil, he is a fan of carpaccio, but normally has the beef version. Still he loved the tuna and thought the oil and seasoning were fantastic. 

I choose a dish which seems to sum up French, and it appears francophone Belgian, cuisine - Fish soup with rouille and croutons. The deep rich soup was full of amazing textures of different fish, the soup itself was herby and delicious. 


The rouille had a delicate mustardy flavour, and the cheese and croutons were soon pour into the soup to add their own vviscosity the cheese, and crunch, the rosemary infused croutons. Wow, I loved it.

At this point, the area of the restaurant in which we were sitting, which had been empty a few moments ago, most of the locals preferring to sit on tables outside on a sunny evening, like tonight (something I just can't get used to!), started to fill. A table of four sat three tables away to our right and then another couple came in to sit on our right. Hearing English being spoken I looked across and was amazed to see someone I knew - Bobby and Rozina Metha.

Bobby and I had worked closely together on a number of projects when Bobby led the International Student Recruitment Team at the University of Glamorgan (subsequently University of South Wales), progressing to lead the whole of Enquiries and Admissions and International Student Recruitment Team, he left USW after I had retired and became Director of the University of Portsmouth Global programme and subsequently Pro Vice-Chancellor (Global Engagement). 

Rozina worked in the Student Administration team of the Business School at the University, though her time at UoG/USW was after I had left the Business School and joined the Centre for Enhancement of Learning and Teaching (CELT) we remembered more people in common than Bobby and I as I'd spent my first nine years at Glamorgan in the Business School.

As you can see, once I'd spotted Bobby, we invited them over and talked about friends from working days, some who are still with us, and others who have gone before us on the journey into eternity. Of course we did this in between the import task of eating the rest of the meal. 

The appropriate apparel appeared for my main course. I suspect the picture evidences what I was having.


Drew went for an adaptation of the local delicacy - Moules/Mussels. I say the adaptation as he decided to have his in a curry sauce, which though tasty is perhaps not traditional.

I had chosen Lobster Armoricaine with a half lobster, this traditional (1860s) way of cooking lobster is named for America, because the chef who created it had worked in the USA before coming home to Sète and establishing his restaurant.

Apologies for explaining something many of you will know already, but Lobster Armoricaine is lobster cooked with onions, shallots, carrots and garlic and flambé with Cognac - the flambéing made for a fun sight in the kitchen which was visible from my seat.


After lots of wonderful chatting and delicious food we finished with un cafe noir for both of us and said goodbye to the Metha's, still amazed to have met them.



Meeting Bobby and Rozina was not only lovely because they are such lovely people, but because I managed something my father had oft dreamt of. My mother used to laugh at Dad when he was overseas. He would always be looking out for someone he knew and even, for a man who said he never had dreams, would have holiday dreams of meeting people he knew in foreign parts. As he grew up and lived in Swansea all his life, he only needed to walk a few hundred yards in the City for someone, from his schools, or his neighbourhood, or from work or from the Swans supporters club to greet him - so when overseas he missed that familiarity. Well now I've managed it in Brussels of all places - amazing.

We got back to the hotel at 9.45pm and were in bed and fast asleep by 10.30pm - a long, but thoroughly enjoyable day. 

8 comments:

  1. Isn’t that both amazing and lovely - you couldn’t have orchestrated such a meeting! As you know, when we travel at both home and abroad we try to look up family and friends and have had some great times together , usually over food! A great first stopover. Malcolm

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    1. Indeed we have often benefited from this bonhomie and will again, if all goes well.

      What was amazing about this was the absolute chance of it - there and Drew's first time in Brussels and I'd only been there before for work!

      A great start to the holiday.

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  2. The language thing always fascinates me (as a linguist, I suppose it would)! Last week when we boarded the train in Welkenraedt on the Belgium/Dutch border, the annoucements were in Flemish and French. By the time we reached Liege, the annoucer was using French only. Then she switched to Flemish only in the region of Leuven, before using both languages in Brussels.

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    1. Yes, the train from Brussels to Koln did French first then German up to Liege, then German first and French up to Koln - with a short burst of English in between.

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  3. You've reminded me of the time we had a family holiday in Lanzarote and you bumped in to a priest you knew as we left a restaurant. Mum reckoned Dad was feeling most put out and had a meeting his Swansea friends abroad dream that night.

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    1. Ah yes, funny how the mind works. I had Fr. John Dermody and Lanzarote in mind as I typed about Dad's dream - but hadn't made the connection. Thanks for the reminder.

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  4. tbh I thought it was traditional for the welsh to always find someone they knew on holiday, and failing that, find any other welsh person they run into and then talk to them until they found a person in Wales with whom they both had a mutual connection. should be whole new version of degrees of separation, Dais of separation. Always good to see a swans connection, 3 generations of us down yesterday for the first game of the season, we did a bit of Maths, my Dads first season was 1955 - 56 so am sure they would have been in the vicinity of each other at the same time. Maybe we should chat one day about their mutual connections!

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    1. Wow, yes Lloyd - though I didn't take on my Dad's connection with the team, he started watching them in the 1950s, living just across the road from the Vetch in Madoc St. In the 1960s I can remember my grandmother and I being able to tell the score while we waited for Dad to come back from the march by the quality of the roars or groans.

      I think I mentioned before that my Dad was Secretary of the Gorseinon and Loughor Cage Bird Society which met in the British Legion Gorseinon and often had shows at Loughor Memorial Hall - so I suspect that would be a fruitful path to connections between your Dad and mine 😃

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