Brussels Chocolate and Other Dessert Review

We're doing this by manufacturer/retailer.

Jean-Phillipe Darcis, 14 Petite Rue au Burre:

A cute little shop we stumbled by almost through accident. They do a very professional job, although I can't say their assortment is that far removed from their competitors.

La Cure Gourmand:

Off the Grand Place, La Cure Gourmand does not really sell much chocolate. They do cookies, hard candies, and chocolate novelties like their peanut M&M-style "chocolate olives," but for those looking for a Godiva-style seller of "pralines," this is not the right store.

However, what they do sell and we found delicious were their exotic caramels, including coffee and sesame flavors. They also sell really pretty tins, both with and without candy in them.

De Rose Damas, 19 Rue de Marche au Herbes:

This is a Middle Eastern confectioner, making both traditional baklava-style sweets and Belgian/Levantine "fusion" desserts. We got a small assortment from the shopkeep, and everything was sweet, crunchy, and wonderful, although we preferred the pistachio-filled crunchy pastries to the softer ones filled with fig paste.

Passion Chocolat:

A small store off the Place du Sablon, Passion Chocolat surprised us with its slightly different approach to truffle-like chocolates. Here, immersion in particular flavors seems to be the theme; there's a peanut-shaped truffle filled with peanut butter, a coffee-cup shaped truffle filled with coffee ganache, and a truffle with a coffee bean on top filled with a marzipan/coffee mix. Those, and the almond-crusted Grand Marnier ganache truffle, make it well worth your visit.

Elizabeth:

We probably don't need to review this, since you get a 25% off coupon in your Brussels Card guidebook, but it's a pretty decent store, if a teensy bit touristy, off the Grand Place. Unlike several of the touristy places off the Grand Place, it does make its own truffles, and none of them look like the Mannekin Pis (the little peeing boy fountain that Brussels is famous for; it's great that the city can laugh at itself, but I'm not sure that anyone really wants to eat a rainbow-colored assortment of chocolates in peeing boy shapes, as one shop sold). We ate a bag of caramel lace cookies dipped in chocolate that we got from Elizabeth, and they were pretty incredible; despite their odd cup-like shape, I would call them nearly the Platonic lace cookie; the lace cookie from which all other lace cookies should be measured. We haven't yet tried their spoons with chocolate to be dissolved in hot milk (some including alcohol), but we're looking forward to.

We also bought a bunch of things from Pierre Marcolini and Wittamer in the Place du Sablon, but we know both of those places are tasty, so you'll have to wait until we get home and eat them to learn about those.

Enjoying the Fruits of War and Colonization

Here we are in Brussels, a land made tasty by the subjugation of faraway lands. We have chocolate (gained in Spanish conquest of Mesoamerica, grown by forced African labor for many years), coffee (more conquering and plantations in Africa), french fries (potatoes gained from Spanish conquest of the Andean peoples), and pastry (gained during brutal French and/or Austrian occupation of Belgium).

Honestly, you don't read this blog to learn about the historical stuff we saw, although the ruins of Coudeberg Palace and the comic strip museum are pretty awesome. So let's talk about food and drink.

FRITES:

We went to Fritland, just off the Grand Place (the city center in Brussels with all the 17th C. buildings). You have two fry options at Fritland - fries on a plate, or fries in a sandwich. The sandwiches are full of things that are either grill-fried or dunked in the same fry-o-lator as the french fries. You can also, instead of a sandwich, get fried foods along with your fries.

The fries are awesome. There are too many sauces for us to rate (we had mixed feelings about the "curry ketchup," and whatever kind of spicy mayo "samourai" is, it's okay, but not awesome), but the fries are crispy-tasty-riffic. You will, however, order too many. The fry portions are big, and unless you are a massive glutton, one container of fries (or a sandwich-full, as "sandwich" means "foot of baguette-like bread with stuff in it") is already too much.

GAUFRES (Waffles!):

The most common waffle here is a large, puffy thing that people put various toppings on. We ignored many waffle places for not looking tasty enough (the truck with the Smurfs on it outside the Musical Instrument Museum, the waffle place down the street from the Central Station which everyone on Tripadvisor hated, the waffle place advertising "Australian" ice cream), and bought a waffle with whipped cream and strawberry slices on top at Elizabeth near the Grand Place. We didn't go to the one at Leonidas off the Grand Place because I kept making 300 jokes to myself in my head.

If you can master the serrated-edged plastic fork that they give you with your waffle, the waffle is a tasty, pre-sugared delight. Do eat it sitting down, though; it's tough to cut with your funny plastic fork while standing.

BEERS:

You get a beer with your entrance to the Brewer's Guild Museum. The Sherbs and I both got a Bell-vue Kriek (cherry lambic), which, despite the bizarre lambic ritual that they do here (pour from tap, scrape off foam with knife, dunk bottom of glass in cold water to wash off scraped foam dribble, dry off bottom of glass on cloth), is pretty tasty. Frankly, we haven't had a kriek we didn't like - Bell-vue, Lindeman's, and Mort Subite "X-Treme" are all pretty tasty and cherry-flavored. They're still a little more beery than a "malt beverage," but that, I think, makes them more flavorful.

There are also framboises, which are lambics with raspberry flavor. Both Mort Subite "X-Treme" and Hoegaarden Rose are pretty good; Hoegaarden is less sweet, for those who like that sort of thing.

Not recommended: Delerium Tremens's "Cactus" lambic. It's green. It tastes more like agave than you want a fruity beer to taste.

In the lambic family is gueze, which the Sherbs calls "beer for people who don't like beer"; it's lighter and sweeter than regular beer. La Morte Subite's house brand is pretty good in this regard.

More Foods of the Holy Land

Back at Samir's on Saturday, where we got carrots and zucchini stuffed with rice and spices, then stewed. Also, in addition to the warm mashed chickpea dish mussabekha (as the Sherbs's uncle unhelpfully says, "rhymes with apricot"), we got some pretty tasty foul (pronounced "fool"), made with some sort of kidney-looking beans. And, of course, the usual pita and salad.

Last night, I went to Shuree Buree in Herzlia, the coastal town just north of Tel Aviv. Shuree Buree basically does one thing: first, you get lots of little dishes of salads and such. Then, you order a fish. You get the fish however you specified the chef to cook it, or you get it fried. That's it.

Still, they do a great job with fish, and you get plenty of bread for the tahina, tzatziki sauce, and guacamole. You can also order french fries, called "צ'פס" (chips) in Hebrew; I use the Hebrew because I want to pretend that "tzips" are not as fattening as french fries. Especially not the ones at Burger Ranch which come mixed with onion rings and bits of hot dog.

Notable Meals in Israel

DAY 1
Brunch: Shakshouka and a cappuccino at Si Coffee at the gas station just below the Latrun tank museum. The Sherbs already went over this, but the tomatoey dish with eggs and cheese cooked on top was pretty amazing, even for a chain cafe. Especially with the whole grain bread.

Dinner: Italian in Tel Aviv. Pizza, appetizers (including eggplant parm in individual ramekins), and a gnocchi in meat sauce.

DAY 2

Brunch: "Couples Breakfast" for the Sherbs and I at Cafe Rimon on Ben Yehuda street in Jerusalem. Each of us got two eggs, any way we wanted, and a salad, with a plate of cheese, tuna fish, and lox to share, as well as a bread basket with two croissant and four bagels. More than decent for a remarkably touristy establishment.

DAY 3

Lunch: Chicken shnitzel sandwich at a small shop in Old Acco at (I think) the end of Chaim Weitzmann Street. Breaded, fried, and stuffed in a toasted baguette with all usual falafel fixings and a couple french fries for good measure. Not the best food ever eaten, but better than average and unbeatable at NIS 20 for sandwich and drink.

DAY 4

Samir's in Ramla. Ramla is a small city near to Tel Aviv, and contains, in one of the many 12th-century structures still standing and in use, a restaurant called Samir's.

I've probably mentioned this place before. But there is nothing bad at Samir's. Today's assortment (when we go with the Sherbs's uncle, it's always the chef's choice for the menu) was chicken kabob, ground lamb kabob, falafel, and a mixed plate of animal hearts and livers cooked with onions and pepper. I am not being facetious to say that the organ meats were incredibly delicious - as I said, there is nothing bad at Samir's. From the pitas to the salads to the baklava at the end (and the coffee with cardamom), everything was tasty-riffic.

The Sherbs's uncle's ice cream. My better half's uncle makes his own ice cream, and has spent much of his life learning and perfecting the food chemistry of homemade ice cream. The flavors which we had too much of were a pineapple sorbet, a mint chocolate made with fresh mint (so much better than that spearmint oil stuff you get at the supermarket), and a dark chocolate ice cream with coffee and chocolate chunks mixed in.

The "Hard Ways"

So, inspired by my sister, for breakfast this morning I made the vegetarian kosher version of the KFC Double Down:

I call it the "Hard Ways," because I wanted to keep with the gambling metaphors, and I like craps.

What is it? Two Morningstar Farms "Chik" Patties, Morningstar Farms fake bacon, Haolam jack cheese, and a smear of light mayo.

How does it taste? Eh. Not bad, but really sort of one note - meaty/salty, with a little tang from the mayo. I'm glad I didn't try the real thing; I had a bad experience with a "famous bowl."

Sage Bread Success!

The sage bread came out of the oven this morning. I don't know what shape it was supposed to have, but it ended up with a large round loaf with a pretty good crust.

It's tasty, but hard to find condiments for as sage doesn't really mesh with not-butter, peanut butter, or mustard (I didn't even try jam). The bread was still so delicious that I had to put the rest in the freezer to keep from eating the loaf.

Staves of Life

As we speak, the Le Creuset Dutch oven is heating up for more of Cook's modified "no knead" recipe - the one that one actually has to knead, but not much. In storage are several finished loaves of black bread from Bittman's green bible, although one of them is denser than the other despite using the same ingredients contemporaneously. Waiting to rise is a Pueblo Indian sage-flavored bread made with cottage cheese, a recipe from my new ethnic food cookbook; a gift from my sister.

Why so much bread? Because 2 lbs. of yeast at Costco is the same as three packets at the Teet. So now I have a block of yeast in my fridge, of which I've used four tablespoons.

Back to the ethnic cookbook. Earlier tonight, I made the Pueblo Indian "Pojoaque cream soup" recipe, which is pinto beans, evaporated milk, garlic, and chili powder (I used ancho for some Bobby Flay big bold flavor). It goes in a blender and then on the stove to heat up.

I thought it would be spicier, but it's really tasty regardless. Pinto beans give it a mellow flavor, but a rich one.

While eventually I'll try the non-Indian recipes in this book, there is a Souix recipe for pumpkin stuffed with beef and wild rice on pg. 255. I have to make it.

Foods I Made Recently

1) Beef stew. I took beef from Shopper's Food Warehouse, kosher chicken stock from the Teet, turnips, onions, carrots, parsnip, garlic, bay leaf, paprika, and dill, and cooked it for various times in a pot. I got impatient before putting it in containers for lunches, so it's a little more liquid than one might expect for "stew," but it's very tasty.

2) Mushroom and egg thing. I heated up oil with taco seasoning in it, then sauteed mushrooms in the taco seasoned oil. Then I poured the remainder of some Egg Beaters Southwestern into the pan, and finished it off with a sprinkle of cheese. Tasty.

3) Super-deluxe Fiber One® muffins. As you know, I am loath to just use Fiber One® apple and cinnamon muffin mix without adding more apples and cinnamon. This time, however, I also added golden raisins and black walnuts. It was fabulous. Black walnuts change the whole character of the muffin from "OK but box-tasting" to "hey, this is pretty complex and interesting!"

Pan-Asian Carrots!

As I wait for my dutch oven full of chickpeas, oil, and garlic to turn into deliciousness (at least according to the Post's food section of two weeks ago), I will blog about the "pan-Asian" carrots I just made.

Like so many things we do, this was from Mark Bittman's grimoire of eatings, "How to Cook Everything Vegetarian." I needed to get rid of some of the three pounds of garlic I got at Costco, much to my better half's chagrin, and so the Quick-Glazed Carrot recipe variations caught my eye.

This one involved simmering the carrot slices in sake with a teeny bit of olive oil (and garlic, because I had to get rid of it). Then, at the end of the cooking, I mixed in a solution of white miso and low-sodium soy sauce.

Turned out pretty good, actually. Not knock my socks off, but totally edible.

Okay, time to check the dutch oven.

Risotto Stories

Last night I broke the faucet. Again.

Or, more accurately, the faucet broke while I was handling it, trying to clean butternut squash risotto out of our large pan. It then sprayed me in the chest with hot water, and when I moved out of the way, shot a jet straight out of the kitchen that left a big puddle in front of the entryway.

The risotto was worth it, though. I would say that it came from the Washington Post's most recent Food section, but I doubled the recipe as there's two of us in the house, except not really, as there was only one shallot at the Teet, I have no idea whether the two butternut squash from the CSA were bigger or smaller than required, and I had just slightly more Wolfgang Puck organic vegetable broth (yes, as my brother says in his Dadaist way, I get the Nazi discount at Spago) and arborio rice than would strictly double the recipe, but I added it anyway. Also a bunch of Smart Balance 50/50 butter blend which may not have been exactly doubled. Or the fact that I couldn't get unsalted shelled pistachios at the Pentagon Row Teet.

But thanks to patience and the indestructable tastiness of butternut squash and toasted coconut, I came away with a tasty risotto, which is now in the fridge waiting for future risotto meals.

The only thing I would absolutely change in the future is to mash up the butternut squash instead of merely scooping it out and throwing it in; it was a little clumpy. Still tasty, though.

Lunch Lessons Learned Today

As I'm home and searching for jobs, I am now making lunch out of what we have in the pantry at the moment, and trying not to subsist entirely on Fiber One™ bars (or their Special K equivalent which have extra warnings for fibrousness) and fifty-cent ramen. This would be easy except that I am lazy and occasionally suffer from what I call "food aphasia," which is where I look into a fridge at raw ingredients and say, "how does this become food"?

Today, I made food in two steps. I cooked up some Uncle Ben's "Country Inn Mexican Fiesta" rice, adding a can of Goya red kidney beans for complete protein-icity. I then heated up a Quorn cutlet with some of Mark Bittman's tomato chutney.

Lessons learned:

• Quorn is good with tomato chutney.
• Uncle Ben's "Mexican Fiesta" is about as Mexican as the taco stand at McFadden's on Cinco de Mayo (the Hawk & Dove in Southeast also has a similar stand on offer, but McFadden's manages to keep its ground floor from smelling like urine, thus making it a classier establishment despite the Georgetown frat boys). The rice is also pretty tasteless.
  
• The "Mexican Fiesta" rice does not go that well with tomato chutney.
• However, it tastes great mixed with the extra-spicy version of Bittman's onion chutney that the Sherbs cooked up for our Sunday hot dog party.

That's lunch. Now back to the job hunt.

Tuna With Mammal Hearts FTW

The tuna fish, olive oil, and pickled pepper sandwich I wrote about earlier was tasted today, after some time in storage. The taste has, if anything, improved. Food win.

Only downside: the oil turned the anadama bread a little greasy.

Let Me Ruin Your Meal

Fun fact of the night: Ba-tampte pickled bell peppers, when just taken from the jar, look disturbingly like preserved mammalian hearts.

I made this discovery while working on my lunches for the week. Having created two breads, I needed to justify them by making sandwiches. The brown bread, which was pareve, was made into sandwiches with Empire turkey bologna and French's mustard with horseradish; the horseradish mustard helped compete with the strong flavors of the bread, which was made with (among other things) bran cereal and cocoa powder.

But I also made "Anadama" bread, which is dairy (as well as containing plenty o' molasses), and I needed a sandwich for that. Enter my eternal quest for the perfect tuna fish sandwich.

As regular readers of this blog know, I am always trying to make canned tuna into something better than a mayonnaise-y mass tasty only for tasting mostly like mayonnaise. I've had limited luck with mustard-based concoctions, so today I tried a base of olive oil, dehydrated onions, garlic powder, and crushed red pepper. I added to that tuna and chopped pickled red bell pepper, the latter for extra taste and texture.

It tasted pretty good right out of the bowl, but the important thing is for it to be palatable after a day or so in the fridge. My mustard tuna sandwiches were merely adequate to that task, and gave off a pungent vinegar/tuna odor which few others could stand. We'll see how these do.

Food Prep Day

I have ten minutes before I put the brown bread in the oven, so I might as well blog.

Today's been food preparation day here; I made scones from my mom's recipe (taken from the Quaker Oats cookbook) this morning (including my family's traditional chocolate chips), along with a bread from Bittman's magnum vegetarian opus that involved white flour, wheat flour, cornmeal, and molasses. It tastes great; so much so that it's already half gone. The Sherbs made our usual amped-up Fiber One muffins - we take Fiber One-branded "apple cinnamon" muffin mix, add apple bits and golden raisins, and enjoy it a lot more.

This evening's bread is a brown bread from Bittman; it smells good already, so I'm optimistic.

I'm also making a gigantic chickpea and mushroom soup from Lydia's Italy; the chickpeas still seem hard after an overnight soak and twenty minutes of boiling, but they're on boil for another two hours, so I will trust in Mme. Bastianich at current.

The soup itself is lunches and dinner later this week; dinner tonight is hot dogs. Hebrew National makes them low-fat.

Next Time With Salt Fish!

New food lesson: when trying to make a meal in the time indicated on the recipe (7 minutes, not including pasta cooking time), use pre-pitted oil-cured olives.

Otherwise, one has ten minutes or more of olive-y frustration as one individually pits the olives. Okay, maybe it would be faster if I had some sort of pitting device. But no. I had only a Wusthof 8" chef's knife, a wooden cutting board from Ikea, and a resolution to ignore my mild sensory defensiveness no matter how dirty/greasy my hand became (in a nod to my obsessive need to wipe my hands after each olive, I dedicated my right hand to holding the knife, so at least one hand would feel clean).

But it was worth it. Following our heroine, Lydia Mattichio Bastianich (our house motto is WWLBD - "what would Lydia Bastianich do?"), we decided to make a recipe out of Lydia's Family Table. I made spaghetti in an orange and olive sauce. Oil-cured olive bits go into a pan with browned sliced garlic, then orange zest, orange juice, and toasted pine nuts are added (not to mention pasta water!). It is absolutely delicious.

Someday, when I'm not just cooking for the two of us, I'm making the breaded salt fish from Lydia's Italy.

April Foods!

Man, I haven't posted in a while. I guess I've been too busy catching up on Kings, the biblically-themed monarchy drama that is, as my sister so often says, "awesome sauce." And not just because it stars Ian McShane, the voice of the killer leopard in Kung Fu Panda.

Anyway, the Sherbs and I have been making plenty of tasty food. This Saturday we went back to the Book of a Million Zillion Curries (comic book reference explained here) for dinner, and made both the tasty tea and chickpea curry and a curry of French green lentils and too much spinach. Turns out the recipe makes something like eight cups of food, so I'm glad we broke out the big pot; it's not easy to wilt two pounds of spinach in boiling water already full of lentils. Also: it made the water turn really green.

What was kind of interesting about the spinach/lentil curry is that it basically was boiled spinach and lentils with what I'd call a "sauteed pico de gallo" tossed in during the last fifteen minutes. If tomatoes were in season, there would probably be a bit more flavor (also, we ran short of cumin - who keeps track of how much cumin they have?), but the spinach was otherwise tasty and a good counterpoint to the chickpeas, which were spicy.

The chickpea spiciness could be in part due to the serious chopping of the serrano chiles in that recipe; we have an off-brand Slap Chop® (for immature but hilarious parody, click here; for incident involving the Slap Chop® pitchman and a prostitute, click here) that does in fact make short work of garlic, ginger, and serrano peppers, rendering them into tiny bits in a matter of moments. With more pepper surface area exposed to the oil in the pan, we got more spiciness.

Tomorrow's dinner will involve another salad from the Benedictine monks. This one will require me to make carrot matchsticks tonight. Wish me luck; I can never get them small enough.

Soup Success!

Everyone liked the soup. Which is good. I need a bigger pot, though, as after I retrieved the cheesecloth bundle containing the chicken, the soup was more a chicken/parsnip/carrot/celery stew than an actual soup.

There were also whole wheat matzah balls in the soup. They taste just as good as any matzah balls, although nobody lets me make matzah balls with grebenes anymore. They are tastier.

I Made Chicken Soup For the Second Time

Things I should have remembered from the first time I made chicken soup:

1) the recipe from the internet does not realize that I am not using an eight-quart stock pot, but instead a five-quart pot from Ikea.

2) Gas burners hate overflowing pots.

Things I now learned from my chicken soup adventure:

1) Lydia Bastianich's trick of putting soup meats in cheesecloth is good, but works a lot better if you have a giant stockpot to work with.

2) The grates on my stove are really wobbly and, unless positioned just so, will cause a pot full of hot proto-soup to tip and spill all over the front of the oven and the floor.

3) There is an amount of celery one can chop which will cause one's hands to smell like celery for a long time.

Salad Unholy Mess

Tonight's dinner was from our monastery salad cookbook, and it was called a "salad picardie," evidently because it's from the Picardy region of France (and wholly unrelated to any spaceship captains played by Patrick Stewart).

It was also a recipe to spray stuff all over the kitchen.

First, the main ingredients were tough to toss. Shredded cabbage, thinly sliced red onion, cauliflower florets, and cubed cucumber really want to throw themselves out of the bowl as if they were lifeboat-less passengers on the Titanic rather than combine into a useful salad base.

Second, I can't peel hard boiled eggs. Fortunately, they're supposed to be chopped, so crumbly egg was not a problem.

Third, the roquefort, which is supposed to crumble, didn't. At room temperature, it assumes the same consistency as Play-Doh®. Have you ever crumbled Play-Doh®? I haven't been able to. I tried "flaking" the cheese from the measuring cup with a fork, which transferred uneven clumps of soft moldy cheese to the fork. And then I shook the fork vigorously, throwing cheese clumps across the kitchen and anywhere but in the bowl.

Fourth, after adding the chopped nuts and the dressing (that was easy), I had to toss again. The salad still wished to flee.

Fortunately, enough salad stayed in the bowl for the Sherbs and I to have dinner. It was quite a tasty salad, if a complete production.

Don't that beet all?

The Sherbs has pretty much covered all of our meal at Founding Farmers, save two things:

1) My salad, which had pretty much everything in it. Mixed greens, slivered almonds, tomatoes, grapes, olives, cheese, and a champagne vinaigrette. Really delicious.

2) My closing cocktail, which was a Hemingway-inspired mix of champagne and absinthe. It was green and thujone-tastic. Seriously, though, it was cool, crisp, and would make a great apertif at parties, although, given its combination of anise flavors and tartness, less is probably more.

Last night we had a salad from one of my new favorite cookbooks, Twelve Months of Monastery Salads Where You Can Totally Halve the Amount of Oil in the Dressing. One of the more attractive Benedictine salad recipes was a "Dutch egg salad," which we had to try.

The salad involves beets, endive, cheese, shallots, and hard-boiled eggs in a dijon/yogurt dressing. Other than painting half the kitchen pink while chopping and boiling the beets, the food prep was uneventful. The end result: tasty, save for one too-sharp shallot. A keeper of a salad.