la Maison des crêpes – a little taste of Brittany in Brussels

For those searching, there is a little taste of Brittany in the heart of Brussels at la Maison de crêpes. Everyone loves crêpes (French pancakes as Americans call them..not quite, but ok.), but personally I’m more of a galette kinda guy. Afterall, this is what I grew up with during my summer holidays on my grandmother’s farm in the Morbihan department in the southern part of Brittany.

Galettes, or crêpes de Sarrasin,  are made of buckwheat flower as opposed to white flower, giving them a much more earthy flavor in contrast to white flower, which is blander and thus actually perfect served with fruit, chocolate, ice cream or even certain types of alcohol.

La Maison des crêpes, a 100+ year old family-run establishment, but which has changed hands since its inception, is a bit of a hole in the wall but has its charm. When you walk in you immediately feel its coziness. The floral tile floor slants down toward the back of the restaurant, there are only about 15 or so wooden tables, of which most are four tops, and since the place is so tiny, there is hardly any space between each table. This, however, gives it a buzz when there are but a few customers. The dining room is divided into two small areas. The front section is pleasant for the single diner because of the huge glass windows on the side and at the front, which allow for intense people watching, while the back room is more closed off, giving it a more intimate feel and better suited for conversation. Light jazz plays in the background while servers whisk back and forth between the tables and the bar at the entrance to pick up hot crêpes and galettes. The kitchen is in the basement, and a food elevator next to the bar shoots dishes up to the servers. The elevator system is very European, and which will you will hardly ever see in the States, because as space is limited in many European cities, kitchens are often relegated to the cold, gloomy underground.

There are a wide array of crêpes and galettes from which to choose. Galette selections include traditional ham and swiss cheese for 7.20 euros or with English Stilton blue cheese, goat cheese to odder combinations like chicken with pesto for 10.20 euros, while you can get a simple sugar crêpe for 3 euros, chocolate and banana for 5.20, crêpe suzette, which topped with Grand Mariner, orange and lemon, for 5.40 as well as carmalized apples flambé with a touch of Calvados, which is a cider brandy that is principally from Brittany and Normandy, for 6.90.  They also have a number of salads for 8-10 euros, such as Salade Niçosie, Salade Caprese, or Salade Parisienne, and Croque Monsieur for 5.50.

I went with the classic ham and swiss cheese, a personal, long-time favorite, while for dessert I was feeling adventurous and chose the caramelized apples flambé with Calvados.

The ham and swiss cheese galette was respectable. The earthy buckwheat flavor was as one would expect it to be – full, dense and deep. The cooking temperature of the galette could have been done a bit more, but that is matter of personal taste. Nearly systematically crêperies serve crêpes and galettes a bit on the doughy side, which is somewhat of a pity. Cooking the batter a bit further gives more depth of flavor. Ask yourself just for the sake of argument: what has more flavor in a good bagette? The soft center or the crunchy crust? I rest my case. Otherwise the size of the galette was generous and the cheese and ham filling was copious. I would have liked them to use more butter on the galettoire (round plaques upon which galettes are cooked) when cooking the galette. I like my food to be rich. Overall, the ham and swiss galette combo passed the test: Tasty and plentiful. It also came with a small side of salad, which did nothing for the dish. A) it was iceberg lettuce, which tastes similar to air B) it was served with a sort of mayonnaise tasting dressing, which to me are all factory bought and are only fit for a stray dog C) was sitting slightly under my galette, making the salad warm (the opposite of what salad should be) and contaminating the taste of the galette with mayo-factory goo.

In terms of the caramelized apples flambé with calvados crêpe, I have to be honest and say I was somewhat disappointed despite the dish’s aesthetic appeal – or maybe this is just my gourmand flaw fooling me once again.. The batter was on the bland side; It could have used a tad more sugar and egg. Also the apples were covered in a caramel sauce, which when it began to cool, became similar to hardened sugar, making it very hard to eat. Should I go back, I would probably get a uncomplicated sugar or chocolate and banana crêpe. Both toppings would make up for the lack of flavor in the batter and are always winners in general.

To wash it all down I ordered a glass of brut (dry) cider rather than doux (soft).  I prefer brut because it has a more robust, bitter flavor than its softer, sweeter sister, therefore creating a more harmonious marriage of flavors. The cider was pleasant, unlike Strongbow for instance. It was a standard dry cider: it had a bold bite and plenty of apple flavor, with a long finish.

Overall, the service was quick and friendly, and the bill came to 16.80 euros. For two hearty dishes and a drink, I would say the restaurant is decent in terms cost relative to value.

If you are in the center of Brussels and have a hankering for some galettes or crêpes, then I can recommend la Maison des crêpes. They certainly won’t be the best you have ever had, but they’ll definitely give you the fleeting feeling you are in Brittany, especially when the cider and the buckwheat flower flavors infuse in your mouth. Love it.

la Maison des crêpes, Rue du Midi 13, 1000 Bruxelles

Salts and sweets near la Grande place

While some Belgians shun this baraque à frites (French for fry shack), I truly think it holds its own amongst some of the best, and puts the widely appraised Maison Antoine to shame. 

If you love condiments with your fries or any fast food dish, Belgium is the place for you. At all baraque à frites you have a wide gamut of sauces, from ketchup to mayonnaise to spicy tomato-mayonnaise to curry to peppered mayo to cocktail to garlic to mustard to Samurai (no clue what that is nor want to know) and to infinity and beyond.. 

While when it comes to haut cuisine I’m all about sauces, but when it comes to fries I prefer to pass. When I eat fries I want to taste the essence of the potato and the grease in which it is encapsulated. Ketchup and its other cohorts are so laden in sugar and other, well, crap that they so thoroughly dominate whatever you are eating that you cannot even taste anything but the sauce. I mean, why not just drink ketchup straight from the bottle?  But I digress.  

So needless to say, I always order my fries with no sauce to the shock of the person behind the counter. Pas de sauce?! Non (merde quoi)!

Fritland’s fries are, to me, perfect. This establishment has understood what makes a good fry. They don’t overcook it to the point where all you are eating grease drenched wood chips like some other well respected baraque à frites establishments in Brussels.

The fries are slightly crisp on the outside and are removed early enough in the process whereby the center is still soft, moist and creamy. And this is where it gets good. It seems to me that the potatoes they use are of high quality because you get a slightly sweet flavor which you often do not find in other fries. Even the grease they use tastes good, which probably means that they change it frequently to allow for a cleaner grease flavor.

Also, and this is really something to watch for, they put just the right amount of salt on the fries. If you don’t pay attention at other places, they often lazily apply the salt, putting so little, you wonder if any was put on at all. On this particular point I understand that some people are fussy about salt. In fact, it is a major debate in French cuisine, so whatever you fancy, I will respect your opinion – no salt, some salt and well, lots of salt? Actually no, lots of salt is out.

Just for the purposes of educating the masses, I also ordered a Fricadelle.  If any of you have seen Bienvenu chez les Tch’is, you know not to ask what it’s made of, but I’ll tell you. Basically it is a fast food version of Boudin Blanc (white bread sausage). So it is a pork, bread sausage, with some seasoning. Although it looks atrocious, and will shave off more days of your life than a carton of cigarettes, it actually tastes alright. The outside is very dry and not slippery like a hotdog, so I think it is not encased in edible plastic like its American cousin. The texture of the inside is mushier than a hotdog due to the bread, with which the pork is mixed.

Places like Fritland also offer up other bizarre forms of junk food such as a poly crock (a deep fried chicken link), chicken wings, Mittraillette (French for machine gun) sandwiches, which is a bagette bread filled with meat (often Fricadelle or boudin), fries and smothered in a sauce of your choosing, hamburgers, American style hotdogs amongst others.

Won’t fuss to much about the staff: they are Turkish guys who whip out Belgian fastfood day in and day out. You don’t go to place to chat up the staff nor expect much besides a smile if you are lucky.

A corné of frites and a fricadelle cost 4 euros even, 2.30 and 1.70 respectively.

Usually fries are sold in a cone like below.

I chose not to rate Belgian Frit n' Toast, which is near to the grand place as is Fritland, in the end because their fries didn’t make the cut: bad grease, just ok tasting potato and the name is a kindy of cheesy. I think it is for tourist to be honest. So if you are near the Grand Place if in Brussels, which you invariably will be if you visit the city, go to Fritland instead.

Part deux: Arcadi Café

Just a stone’s throw from both Fritland and Belgian Frit ‘n Toast is Arcadi Café, where you can get a mean tart.

This restaurant, which does serve pasta dishes such as spaghetti and have a variety of omelettes, has a long list of both salty and sweet tarts, which cost 4.50 and 7.50 euros. Stick with the tarts if you go to Arcadi and skip the menu fillers. You can make noodles at home.  On this particular visit I opted just for a sweet tart, as I was venturing over from Fritland on a full stomach.

Making a choice is was not easy. I had already savoured the Tarte aux framboises (raspberry tart), and Tarte au poire et chocolat (pear and chocolate tart). I hear the salty tarts are just as good and I believe it.

To continue testing all the varieties, I went with the Tarte aux fraises (strawberry tart). Just like its brethren, it was a thumbs up…but I would say the raspberry and pear and chocolate tarts were a tad better. The craftsmanship was the same, so the difference lied in the nature of this particular tart. Obviously anything with chocolate is going to pack a flavorful punch, and the acidity of the raspberries cuts through the sweet in the cream and crust, creating a nice mix of flavors. Strawberries in general are clearly sweet but not sweet enough to create a nice mélange of flavors on the palate. So I would say this tart was a step below the others. Now as for the cream: it was very fresh, thick and light. However, and this is more of a personal preference rather than a mistake by the pastry chef, but I would have liked the cream to have richer buttery flavor and a pinch or two more of sugar. Nevertheless it was heavenly. The crust, too, was correct. Not too doughy or flaky. You can always judge a good crust by taking a bite out of the end. If it pleases the palate, then it passes the test, which this one did. A couple of dashes of powdered sugar was a nice touch. It added a nice visual dimension to the tart, giving it a more elegant presentation. It gave the impression that the pastry chef added a touch of love and pride on top.

The wait staff, which all seems to be of Moroccan decent, is very friendly. You get that warm Maghreb/Middle Eastern hospitality, which is always pleasant. They smile and are enthusiastic to see you, unlike many Continental Europeans in the service industry. 

Café Arcadi, Rue d'Arenberg 18, 1000 Bruxelles

Fin de siècle: the perennial crowd pleaser

For my first entry I chose a long time favorite, Fin de siècle, which literally translated as ‘End or Turn of the Century’.  It’s a no-frills, comfort food, bang for your buck establishment, in the nitty gritty center of Brussels, Europe’s capital.  The place is a bit of a hole in the wall on a street that might be considered off the beaten path. It serves up local fare, such as Carbonnade à la Chimay (Beef beer stew), Lapin à la Kriek (Braised Rabbit with a cherry beer sauce) or Stoemp (Country sausage, with mashed carrots and potatoes), alongside classics from further afar like Tandoori Chicken, Fried Calamari and Moussaka.

The atmosphere is very laid back: no uniforms for the wait staff, menu is on one huge chalkboard against the wall in the center of the restaurant next to bar, with a dining room filled with mostly long, old, rickety wooden tables that sit six to eight people.  None of the chairs, which are all wooden, match; Couple of random wooden benches thrown in.  Décor dominated by yellow painted, rustic looking walls that run up to 20 foot high ceilings. Service is not what you would expect in Belgium or anywhere else on the Continent:  It’s good to GREAT (I won’t belabor this point, although I would love to, really.)  The wait staff is happy to greet you and any answer questions you might have, and when they are slammed, they cope and get the job done. The menu has perhaps around 20 mains, which range from 13-17 euros, a couple of starters in the 10 euro range and a handful of desserts to choose from for under 6 euros.  The place starts getting packed around 7ish, and it is not uncommon to have a wait for a table on the weekends or even weekdays.

I jumped right in with a main dish - in times of austerity starters are the first thing to go, especially if you have an insatiable sweet tooth. I ventured for the Lapin à la Kriek accompanied by steamed vegetables. (For those who don’t know, Kriek, which is Dutch for cherry, is a local lambic brew made by fermenting Morello cherries, which gives it a dry, cidery flavor, with a distinct sour aftertaste. Many Belgian meat dishes are prepared with a local fermented beer rather than wine, like in Italy or in neighboring France.)  The meat was cooked to perfection.  Moist and tender, the way a white meat should be prepared.  The sauce, too, was on the money. The sweet and sour from the Kriek beer and the earthiness from the beef stock and onions in the sauce, although a seemingly odd pair, were meant to be. There were also a couple of cooked prunes in the sauce, which given that rabbit is a mild flavored meat, went well. The only thing in this dish that could use a bit of finesse was the steamed vegetables. While plentiful, they required a bit more seasoning. It is purely my humble opinion, but a quick pass in the pan with some butter, with a dash of salt and pepper would go a long way.

The barman recommended I match the dish with, you guessed it, a lambic beer, Mort Subite (French for ‘Sudden Death’). The Kriek sauce brought out the flavor of the cherries in this lambic with full force. In the mouth this beer starts off strong, climaxes even faster, blasting you with cherry flavors and then quickly trails off, but then the sour, vinegary tang lingers for some time.

Last, but definitely not least – and to my surprise I think it stole the show to be honest - was dessert. I chose the Tiramisu Speculoos: SPOT. ON.  A beautiful twist of an Italian classic, using Speculoos cookie rather than the typical ladyfingers (again for those not too familiar with Belgian fare, Speculoos is - a very addictive - ginger biscuit; and a tasty treat often served with coffee here in the land of three official languages and no government for over a year now.) Here, the ratio of sugared mascarpone to Speculoos cookie was idyllic, and the mascarpone itself was thick yet light and was so rich and fresh it tasted as if it had come from the beast the very same day. Simply superb.

All in, 2 solid dishes and a nice beer ran me about 25 euros, topped off by friendly, helpful service. Hard to beat that just about anywhere.

If you come to Brussels and you are looking for an unpretentious (which Brussels certainly is), succulent local meal, Fin de siècle is a must. A perennial crowd pleaser.

Fin de siècle - Rue des Chartreux 9, 1000 Bruxelles