Talking about the kriek and lambic beers the other day got me a little nostalgic for Belgium. My husband and I went to Brussels and Bruges for a week a couple years ago to research a story that ran last May in Bon Appétit magazine. I realize I never shared my pictures from that trip. Wish I could teleport myself back to a table at Viva M’Boma in Brussels, above—which means long live the grandmother—on this rainy day, and tuck into a dish of Carbonnades Flamande, sprinkled with gingery speculoos and Italian parsley, below:
Or hide out in the Fleur en Papier Doré for a few hours, Magritte’s favorite watering hole and one of my favorite bars on the planet. So romantic and Old World, and a great beer selection.
Or maybe I’d head off the beaten track to the Saint-Gilles neighborhood, and sneak down to the private basement cellar of Chez Moeder Lambic with owner Jean Hummler and taste our way through his stash of 300-some Belgian beers, what is arguably the best beer bar in the country. Here’s a look at the cellar:
And I loved the plate of local goat cheese with toasted barley that he served us. The perfect tangy counterpoint to a spicy glass of De Ranke XX Bitter.
Check back tomorrow and I will post pics of the chicest bed and breakfast in Bruges, where the husband nightly cooks up a superb dinner that rivals the country’s best restaurants. Now, is it too early to tuck into a pint of this?