Lentils of the Palais des Epices

Thursday is market day in our village. I rarely have the opportunity to do my shopping there as I’m working most Thursdays, Friday being my day off. However, yesterday was an exception, as I’m on sick leave, nursing a recurrent back problem. So I took an extra painkiller and strolled down to the market to get some fresh grey North Sea shrimps to make another Belgian classic: ‘Tomates crevettes’, but that’ll be the topic of a separate post.

Our village market is very nice and has some great fish, poultry, cheese and vegetable stalls. The produce is fresh and attractive and the vendors do great business, especially on a warm autumn day like yesterday.

However, our little market is ‘peanuts’ compared to what we saw at the Halles de Tours. We’ve been there on several occasions and I’m always overwhelmed by the variety and the quality of the products that are on display. The temptation to buy more than you need – especially when you’re not self-catering – is too big. In the past, I have mainly bought jars of duck fat (to make ‘confit de canard’) and dry goods, such as spices and lentils.

Vegetable stall at the Halles de Tours ...
attractive enough to make you want to become a vegetarian!

I get my spices and lentils at a stall called ‘Le Palais des Epices’. Lentils are, or at least were, not a common food in Belgium. I can’t remember having them at home when I was a little girl. And until recently my mother used to look very worried when I proposed to cook lentils for Sunday lunch … until the day that I made a lentil soup without telling her what it was. She liked and since then, I frequently use them to thicken soups.

My first lentil experience goes back to the eighties when my friend and I had lunch at a ‘routier’ in Normandy. The ‘plat du jour’ was pork roast with green lentils. To be honest, I didn’t really like them and I didn’t finish my plate. My second lentil experience dates from the beginning of this century when I had them with stewed rabbit in a cosy little restaurant ‘La Route d’Or’, located on the steps of the Saint Martin’s church in Candes Saint-Martin. And guess what, I found them delicious.

Last week I came across these useful tips about lentils in a Belgian magazine for 50+ readers … like me!

The text reads:

Tips and things you should know

- Green lentils have a very thin peel (and therefore are easy to digest). Green lentils from the Puy area in France are the best. No wonder they were the first vegetables to obtain the A.O.C. label.
- Blond or yellow-greenish lentils are larger, but not as tasty.
- Red lentils are starchier but are perfect to make mash or to bind soups.
- Coral lentils are red lentils that have been peeled. They are ideal for recipes that require short cooking times.
- Use 4 glasses of water to boil 1 glass of lentils. Never add salt as it will harden the lentils.
- For an easier digestion, add some beankraut or nutmeg to the cooking water.


Do you like lentils and how do you prepare them?
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We have castles too!

Okay, I admit it. They are not as grand and beautiful as the Loire Valley castles but, here in Belgium, we have some pretty nice historic aristocratic dwellings as well. Today I would like to show you one which isn't really on the tourist maps and I'm not even sure that it's open to the public.

Nevertheless, you will have to admit that it looks very pretty, especially in these autumn settings. I know very little about its history, except that it was probably built some time between the 11th and the 13th century. Even the historians haven't been able to figure it out.

So no trick questions this time .. here it is ... the castle of Crupet in the department or the province (as departments are called in Belgium) of Namur, some 85 km or so South of Brussels.

Click to enlarge, and you'll see a crow or raven in the left top cormer.

Don't you think this would make an excellent stagesetting for a Halloween movie?

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Swimming pool anecdote

Staying at a Chambre d’hôtes (Bed & Breakfast) is something we’ve started doing since I won first prize in an internet quiz about the Loire Valley in 2007. You can read all about it here.

Winning that prize was probably one of the best things that could ever happen to us as it almost coincided with the closure of our favourite hotel in Tours in February 2008. The owners, who have become friends of ours over the years, have retired and the hotel is being transformed into a residence for affluent senior citizens.

For nine consecutive years we had a lovely time there, and we met many charming and interesting people from all over the world. During our first three stays (in 1999-2000-2001) patrons mainly consisted of large parties of Americans who were on an organized cycling trip through the Loire Valley. During the day they cycled from one château to another, their luggage being sent ahead to the next hotel and gourmet restaurant where they would spend the night. I admired them for their stamina, as I don’t know how they managed to cover the daily distance on their bikes after eating every evening a full gastronomic dinner with appropriate wines!

There are lots of little anecdotes I could tell you about, like our meeting with Alfred, the wooden legged duck, our chat with a young couple from California who were on their honeymoon, a television crew filming for a documentary, etc. But the best story of all is probably our pizza luncheon by the pool.

Having no photos of that memorable lunch by the pool, here's a picture of some rowing boats on the Anglin in the village of Angles-sur-Anglin in the Vienne department.

One evening we were having pre-dinner drinks in the veranda, from where we had an excellent view on the driveway and the little duck pond. It was about 8 p.m. and people started to arrive for dinner. All of a sudden we saw a pizza delivery man on a moped puffing up the driveway towards the entrance of the hotel. The guy stepped of his bike, opened the delivery box and took out two pizza and two 33 cl bottles of coca-cola. He walked into the lobby and, without taking off his helmet, went up the stairs without even looking at the girl at reception. He came down five minutes later, counting the money he had been given, hopped on his moped and drove off … leaving patrons and hotel staff completely flabbergasted.

The next morning the whole hotel had heard about the little ‘pizza incident’. The proprietor’s wife was very upset. What shocked her most was not so much the fact that people had wanted a pizza, but that they’d ordered a take-away meal when staying in a hotel with a two Michelin star restaurant. “My husband can cook pizza too. If only they had asked! He would have been glad to make them a pizza, and even serve it in their room. We offer room service after all!” And then she looked at us … “Would you like to try one of my husband’s pizzas?” she asked?

Although we liked the idea, we didn’t want to create a precedent. “You know what?” she said, seeing that we felt slightly uncomfortable “What if we were to serve it by the swimming pool … at lunchtime.” The pool being in the far end corner of the immense garden, there would be no other people around at lunchtime. We therefore agreed.

We left on our daily excursion, which we cut short to be in time for our ‘luncheon appointment’. When we arrived at 12.30, a table was set by the edge of the pool, and a chilled bottle of dry Vouvray wine was waiting for us. Only seconds later the headwaiter appeared carrying a large tray with on it two hot pizzas straight from the oven. The crust was made of fine and crunchy puff pastry, not exactly what you would expect from a regular pizza. Finely sliced, but extremely juicy tomatoes, shredded basil, creamy mozzarella pieces and some splashes of virgin olive oil made an excellent topping. The taste was rich and yet delicate and went extremely well with the fruity white wine.

We had and excellent and romantic meal, all by ourselves, without being disturbed, as everybody was either out for the day or having lunch in the restaurant’s dining room. And do you want to know the best part? Later that evening the proprietress told us that the pizza and the wine were on the house. How lucky can you get?

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Sunday Lunch – Belgian style

One of my eighty years old mother’s favourite dishes is a ‘Salade Liégeoise’. Although it is very easy to make, she doesn’t bother to prepare one just for herself, so very regularly she asks me to make a Salade Liégeoise for Sunday Lunch. I’m always happy to oblige, as I like it myself.

Like many traditional Belgian dishes, it was basically something that was made with leftovers. Today it has become a Belgian classic that even the best brasserie-type restaurants like to put on their autumn or winter menu card.

What do you need? (serves two)

400 gr. of green beans (‘princesses)
6 slices of lean bacon (approx. 0.5 cm thick)
A large onion
Plain alcohol vinegar or white wine vinegar, according to taste
6 to 8 medium sized potatoes, the firm, hard cooking type (red roseval potatoes are the best)
Some olive oil
Pepper and salt
Two dried or fresh bay leaves
Two or four fresh eggs at room temperature

Lean salted bacon before it is cut in 0.75 cm strips

Method

Clean the green beans by removing the ends, and cut them into 4 to 5 cm pieces. Cook them in boiling water to which you have added a pinch of salt. When they are ‘al dente’, which means still slightly crunchy, drain them and rinse them immediately under cold running water. This will keep them crunchy and a nice bright green colour. Set aside. You can even do this the day before. In that case, stock them in your fridge in Tupperware-type container till the next day.

Next, peel and cook the potatoes by boiling them for approx. 15 minutes. Don’t let them get too soft.

Peel and finely chop the onion.

Cut the slices of bacon into little ‘lardons’ (strips) of about one ¾ centimeter. Panfry them without adding any oil until they are golden brown and crispy. When they are ready, set them apart with the baking juices.

The next step is to assemble all the ingredients. Heat up a little olive oil in a cooking pot. Add the onion and cook it until it is transparent. Add two to three tablespoons of vinegar and let it reduce for 15 seconds. Add pepper, salt and the bay leaves. Stir well.

Add the cooked beans and stir again. Then add the boiled potatoes and stir again. Add the bacon and its baking juices. Stir again and slowly increase the heat, stirring every now and then.

Et voilà: a Salade Liégeoise ready to be served.
Don't forget the eggs ... sunny side up!

Serve on a large plate and put one or two pan fried eggs – sunny side up!! – on the salad. Serve with a slice of baguette, a glass of red wine or a beer.

P.S. Liége or Luik is a beautiful city in the East of Belgium. It’s located on the Meuse River and has some very nice sites that are definitely worth a visit!

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15th century castle, jokes and eggs

Loire Valley 2008 - The photograph of the charming cottage with the red shutters that I’ve posted some time ago sits in the grounds of the castle of Fougères-sur-Bièvre, some 20 km south of Blois. We visited this 15th century castle and the grounds last year.

Arriving at the ticketing office, which is situated in the above cottage, we were greeted by a man who looked like a professional boxer. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up, exposing his hairy underarms. While we paid the entrance fee he asked us where we were from. This is customary when you’re visiting historic and other sites in France. That way you go down in their statistics which are probably used to justify expenses and investments.

When we said we came from Belgium, the man immediately and with a genuine smile replied: “I knew I had recognized the accent”. “I have some relatives who live in Belgium, in the town of Mechelen … maybe you know them …” and he mentioned their name. Funnily enough, we often get that reaction. People easily assume that, as Belgium is a small country, we are bound to know everybody! There are over 10 millions inhabitants in Belgium, 75.000 of which are living in Mechelen. And I’ve been to Mechelen only twice in my life. The chances of us knowing the man’s relatives were therefore nil!

One thing led to another and half an hour later we were still chatting with the man who had a vast repertoire of jokes about the Belgians. My friend, who probably knows just as many about the French, was a worthy opponent. As I know most of these stories by heart, I quickly lost interest in their conversation and started browsing through the books that were on sale in the ticketing office.

The cover of the booklet with the great egg recipes.

Most of them were about the Loire Valley castles and their royal residents. There was one book however that caught my attention. It was a cute square booklet about the history of the egg! What made it so interesting were the many unusual recipes using eggs as a main ingredient. I couldn’t resist buying it, a decision I haven’t regretted, as most preparations proved to be very easy to make and excellent to eat.

When we finally made it into the courtyard of the castle, we found that two wings were closed due to renovation work. Except for the former chapel and the tower there was very little to visit. So we decided to have a look at the gardens. There is a beautiful medieval garden and a vast lawn with a very peculiar pergola-like structure. In the distance you can see another, more recent castle or manor house. From the gardens you also get to admire the renaissance adornments that liven up the originally austere medieval fortress.

Part of the Château de Fougères seen from the gardens.

The castle of Fougères-sur-Bièvre is one of the lesser known Loire Valley castles, and therefore attracts fewer tourists. We were the only visitors there that morning, except for a small group of schoolchildren and their teachers. All in all we had a very pleasant visit and were happy to have made the detour.

Maybe you should put it on your to-see-list the next time you are visiting the Loire Valley. I suppose that by now the renovation work is finished and that you’ll get to see the whole castle. Don’t forget to have a look at the gardens and the Bièvre, the small stream that runs through them.

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Intermezzo

Could this be Ireland?

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French Flanders – epilogue

Sainghin-en-Melantois

It was well over 4 p.m. when we left the little museum that immortalizes the lives of Henri ‘le douanier’ and Albert ‘le fraudeur’. The afternoon was still young and there were three other places on our to-see-list: the waffle museum, the brewery and the church of Sainghin-en-Melantois, the village were I had booked two rooms for the night.

The museum and the brewery being situated West of Lille, we all agreed that it would be wiser to hit the road and drive straight to Sainghin, East of the metropolis. Soon commuters would start leaving their offices after a day’s work and the roads would become very busy, with traffic jams lasting till late in the evening. The waffle museum and the brewery would have to wait till our next visit to the region.

We reached Sainghin at about 4.30 p.m. and parked the cars in front of the restaurant where we wanted to have a light dinner later that night. We took a quick look at the menu card that hang by the door and peeked through the windows to see what the interior was like. There was no one about, but liking what we saw, we decided to ring the restaurant later to book a table.

The Saint Nicolas church was right across the street. It was a massive, bright white building. In spite of its classic style, it looked very recent. We would soon learn why. When we walked in, the sun was shining through one of the beautiful stained glass windows, projecting the colours on one of the lateral walls. This was just amazing! It was as if a modern artist had splashed a multitude of coloured specks on a bright white canvas.

Being a keen photographer, our friend J.L. was fascinated by this phenomenon and he shot several pictures of it. So did I, but once again my little hobby camera wasn’t quite up to the challenge. But just to give you an idea … here’s my ‘best shot'.

Everything was spic and span and it looked as if the church was brand new. A commemorative plaque near the entrance taught us that the original church, dating from the 18th century, had been largely destroyed by a ravaging fire in the sixties. It had been rebuilt in the early seventies, which explained its pristine look.

After leaving the church, we savoured a glass of ‘Grain d’or’ (golden grain), another local beer, in a nearby bar. It was nice, but not as good as the Hommelbier or the Bière du Douanier that we had earlier that day.

After arriving at the B&B, we retired to our rooms to relax for a while after what had been a very busy day. We rendezvoused at 7.30 p.m. to walk to the earlier mentioned restaurant called ‘Les Saveurs d’hier et d’aujourd’hui’. Although it was rather chilly outside, it was a very pleasant walk. The dark village streets were deserted. In many houses the lights were on and when we glanced in, we could see people sitting cosily around the dining table or lounging in armchairs watching TV.

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Lost in Paradise

The first day of our two day trip to Northern France ended with a light, yet excellent dinner at the restaurant ‘Saveur d’hier’ et d’aujourd’hui’ in Sainghin-en-Melantois and a bottle of champagne at our B&B in the same village.

The next morning we left at 10.30 p.m. heading in the direction of Overijse, South of Brussels. During our late night drink at the B&B we had discovered that our friend J.L. was not only a keen photographer, but that he had yet another passion: orchids. We therefore had another surprise for him in store: an orchid nursery in the hamlet of Terlanen, near the town of Overijse.

For many decades the region around Hoeilaart and Overijse has been famous for the culture of excellent table grapes. They are grown in greenhouses. When you’re flying into Brussels and your plane is coming in from the South, just before landing at Brussels Airport, you’ll notice the rows and rows of greenhouses that look like vast glass villages. Part of the grape harvest is used to make a pleasant bubbly but most grapes are sold as such. The big and juicy dark blue or almost transparent green grapes are very sought after as they are extremely crunchy and sweet.

However, over the last 10 years or so, many grape growers have gone out of business, due to the increasing price of petrol, the fuel they use to heat their greenhouses. Others have decided to diversify and are now using the greenhouses for other cultures. The orchid nursery is one of them.

I first saw the nursery last April, when my friend took me there on a surprise visit during which he bought me an orchid as a birthday present. I picked out a lovely pale yellow specimen, which gave me a lot of pleasure for several months. It was my sixth orchid plant since I started collecting them in February last year. They are now lined up on the sill of the kitchen window where they get the required sunlight and humidity (thanks to the water vapour escaping from the dishwasher each time when I open it after the dishes are done!). It’s very exciting to see them grow and produce new flowers every now and then … although they require quite a lot of care and attention if you want to be successful.

But back to the nursery. You first walk into a little shop, where some ten or twenty orchid plants of different colours and sizes are on display. B. and J.L. looked slightly disappointed. We had described this place as Orchids’ Paradise, and they had this “Is-that-all-there-is”-look on their faces. Until they turned the corner and walked into the actual greenhouse where they saw this:

An impressive collection of orchids

... and this

... and this

... and this

They were delighted, if not to say ecstatic. We spent a pleasant half an hour walking around and shooting photos of the exquisite flowers. It’s needless to say that we both bought a new orchid plant. J.L. and B. chose one with large spotted purple flowers, while we picked an unusual specimen bearing a multitude of small lavender coloured flowers.

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French Flanders – part 5

The answers to yesterday's quiz questions

To those of you who answered yesterday's quiz questions: here are the right answers (in blue). Thank you for 'playing the game'!

The church of Godewaersvelde seen from the entrance of the museum

What's the 'Brunel line'?
A: a hook attached to a long rope - B: a fishing rod - C: the border between France and Belgium.

Why is the end of the smugglers' walking stick painted white?
A: it's a kind of 'white flag' to indicate that he's ready to surrender to the customs - B: because it's old and used - C: to incite the customs' dog to bit the end of the stick.
 
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French Flanders – part 4

« Etes vous douanier ou fraudeur? »

“Are you a customs officer or a smuggler?” That’s the question we were asked when we walked into the ‘Musée de la vie frontalière’ (Life on the border) in the tiny village of Godewaersvelde in French Flanders.

After we had paid the income fee, the lady behind the desk handed us each a questionnaire which would determine whether we were rather a ‘douanier’ or a ‘fraudeur’. On the left page Henri, the ‘douanier’ had written down 10 questions regarding his job, the tools and arms he used. On the right page Albert, the ‘fraudeur’, had done the same about his illegal occupation. The answers to the questions were to be found in the two halls of the museum.

The cover page of the questionnaire

We thought it would be just a piece of cake to fill out the form, but we were wrong. The questions looked easy enough but it took the four of us, working as a team, well over an hour to find the correct answers. We had a lot of fun though, and for a while felt like little schoolchildren again who were out on their yearly school trip.

Just to test your knowledge about customs and smugglers here is one of Henri’s questions:

What's the 'Brunel line'?
A: a hook attached to a long rope - B: a fishing rod - C: the border between France and Belgium.

And here’s one of Albert’s:

Why is the end of the smugglers' walking stick painted white?
A: it's a kind of 'white flag' to indicate that he's ready to surrender to the customs - B: because it's old and used - C: to incite the customs' dog to bit the end of the stick.

Do you know the right answers? I’ll post them tomorrow. In the meantime, why don't you take a guess!?

The museum also hosts the ‘géants’ (giants) representing Henri and his dog Dick. On special occasions, such as Mardi Gras, village carnivals and fairs, etc. the giants are dressed up and paraded through the village streets. Henri is approximately 4 metres tall and weighs over 60 kilos. He’s made of wood, paper mache and cloth. He’s carried by one strong man who is inside the wooden frame.

The giant representing 'Henri le Douanier'

The dog, Dick, is just over 2 metres tall, weighs 80 kg and is carried by two men. The dog can be dressed up like Dick, the customs officer’s dog, or Tom, the smuggler’s dog. Tom always carries two linen bags on his back, called ‘blattes’ in which the smuggled goods are hidden. When we visited the museum, the dog was dressed like this.

The giant representing the smuggler's dog Tom, carrying the two 'blattes' on its back

Henri and Dick/Tom are Godewaersvelde’s heroes. But almost every village or town in French Flanders has its own giants. The tradition goes way back in time and is of pagan origin. Later Christianity took over the tradition and used the Christian saints as models for their giants. Today the giants are just part of local folklore. Unfortunately they are a disappearing ‘breed’.

(to be continued)

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French Flanders – part 3

Typical aperitif and lunch

The village of Godewaersvelde in French Flanders is situated at less than 5 km from the Belgian border. The red brick stone houses are not unlike those in Belgium. There are some typical ‘estaminets’ or cafés serving the local beers: Blanche de Watou, Hommelbier, Hommelpap and ‘La Bière du Géant’.

Typical street in Godewaersvelde

During our mini-trip last week, we had a pre-luncheon aperitif in an estaminet called ’Het Blauwershof’. ‘Blauw’ means blue and in this case refers to the blue colour of the customs officers’ uniforms. These men, who guarded the border, were on the constant look-out for smugglers who illegally tried to pass tobacco, butter and alcohol from France into Belgium. Judging by the name, this ‘estaminet’ was the place were the customs officers used to hang out when they were off-duty.

What strikes you most when you walk into the Blauwershof are the authentic floor, furniture and bar. Everything looks exactly the same as it did a hundred years ago. My friend and I had been there last February and so we knew what to expect. My colleague B. and her husband J.L., however, could hardly believe their eyes and they walked around for ten minutes looking at the many unusual and forgotten objects that decorated the walls. There was also a more recent sign saying:

Opening time – depending on the mood of the staff
Closing time – depending on the state the landlord is in.

We each had a glass of ‘Hommelbier’, a local specialty, brewed from hop, a twining plant of the Humulus family, of which the female flowers are dried and used to flavour the beer. You’ll find the typical hop fields, with their tall stakes and rope wiring (on which the hop plants climb) on both sides of the border.

The ‘Hommelbier’ was very refreshing and it stimulated our already increasing appetite. We spent an agreeable half an hour in the estaminet, talking, laughing and taking pictures. And then it was time of have our ‘Potjesvleesch’. The restaurant and former butcher shop ‘Le Roi du Potjesvleesch’, is just around the corner from the estaminet. Once again B. an J.L. didn’t know were to look first when they saw the large assortment of local products that was being sold in the gangway leading to the actual restaurant, which is situated in the former slaughter hall behind the butcher shop.

We all had the Potjesvleesch with frites and two 75 cl bottles of the ‘Bière du Géant’, another local beer brewed in the nearby village of Steenvoorde.

For dessert we had a cheese plate with three local cheeses, one of which came from the ‘Mont des Cats’ abbey. By the time we had finished our coffee, it was almost half past two and we reckoned that the ‘Musée de la Vie Frontalière’ (Life on the border museum) would be open by now. So it was time to move on …

(to be continued)

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French Flanders – part 2

Monts des Cats

As there’s only a short distance of about 10 km between the town of Bailleul and the ‘Monts des Cats’, the highest hill in Flanders’ plains, we decided to take the scenic route, instead of speeding down the motorway.

The meandering country roads led us through immense fields of leeks and Brussels sprouts. I’ve never seen so many leeks in one field! I suppose they are used to make one of the region's specialties, the ‘Flamish’, which is a quiche-like 'tarte' with eggs, leeks and a local cheese as main ingredients. I will have to look up the exact recipe and make a ‘Flamish’ for Sunday lunch one of these days. I’ll keep you posted!

Seen from a distance, the ‘Monts des Cats’ was a bit of a disappointment. It didn’t stand out as proudly as I’d expected it would be. The slightly elevated terrain softly blends into the surrounding countryside. However, once we had reached the top we understood what all the fuss was about. Coming in from the East, we had approached the ‘Monts’ from its less spectacular side. From the top a breathtaking view over the plains on the western side unveiled itself to us. This photo just doesn’t do it justice, but I can assure you that it was magnificent.

View from the top of the 'Monts des Cats'

We parked the cars and strolled over to the abbey that is situated on the top of the hill. The door to the little Saint Bernard chapel was unlocked and we walked in. It’s a very austere place, with an unadorned altar. Luckily there are the stained glass windows to add a touch of colour.

We were also very intrigued by the unusual steps that led into the chapel. They were made of fine firestones laid out in a very intricate and artistic pattern. They looked very authentic indeed.

Intricate stonework on the steps of St. Bernard chapel

The signposts leading to the main entrance of the abbey indicated that there was another, larger church and a ‘fromagerie’ inside. Being very interested in visiting the ‘fromagerie’, we quickly walked up to the main door … where we were immediately stopped by a big sign saying’ LA FROMAGERIE NE SE VISITE PAS’ (The cheese making shop is not open to visitors). Disappointed, we made our way towards the abbey’s shop selling the local produce. The gate was open but blocked by a chair. On it sat another sign ‘FERME’ (closed). The opening hours during autumn and winter were from 2 p.m. and 5 p.m. only!

However, this new disappointment couldn't affect our good mood and we decided to move on to the next place we wanted to visit: ‘Le Musée de la Vie Frontalière’ (The museum of life on the border) in Godewaersvelde.

Arriving there we were immediately charmed. On each side of the narrow path leading to the entrance, and right opposite one another, were the statues of the patron saints of the ‘douaniers’ (customs) and the ‘faudeurs’ (the smugglers).

Saint Matthew on the left and Saint Michael on the right!

This museum was clearly not without humour … which we failed to appreciate at the time. Because when we reached the entrance, the museum was … closed!!!

Once again opening hours during autumn and winter were from 2 till 5 p.m. This time, however, we were determined to see the inside of the museum. We therefore decided to come back after lunch. It was almost noon and we were beginning to feel hungry and thirsty.

We had an aperitif at one of the typical ‘Estaminets’ called ’Het Blauwershof’ before walking over to the ‘Roi du Potjesvleesch’ to enjoy the dish that had brought us to this part of France in the first place.

(to be continued)

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French Flanders– part 1

Our little getaway to Northern France was a big success in spite of the somewhat too autumn-like weather. For once the weather people had it right when they predicted a sunny but freezing cold Thursday and a rainy Friday morning.

We met up with our friends around the planned time of 8.30 a.m. on the parking lot of a service station along the E19 motorway just South of Brussels. The drive down to Lille was uneventful, with us leading the way with the help of our ever faithful and almost always reliable friend ‘Mauricette’ (For those of you who have just discovered my blog: Mauricette is our GPS!).

We were making better progress than expected and therefore decided to have a coffee stop in the town of Bailleul, just West of Lille. I had read on the internet that the town had a nice belfry and an interesting church. Belfries are a typical Flemish feature. The huge bell tower that is part of the town or city hall very often accommodates a carillon. In his well-known song ‘Le Plat Pays, qui est le mien’ Jacques Brel, the famous Belgian singer (Yes, he was Belgian although the French like to think he was French) calls belfries and cathedrals ‘les uniques montagnes’ (the only hills) in Flandres’ plains.

The belfry of Bailleul
(the picture is slightly blurry as it was taken from behind the windshield of the car)

And he was right, because we found the Bailleul’s belfry quite easily as it was sticking out above the plains and other buildings. The belfry is situated on the ‘Place Charles de Gaulle’, the French general who, during World War II, led French resistance from London and who, on D-Day, landed on the beaches of Normandy leading an army of young Frenchmen who had managed to escape to England during the war. Later, Charles de Gaulle became president of France. No wonder that every self respecting French town and village has a square named after this national hero.
 

We had a coffee in a bar at the foot of the belfry before walking over to the nearby St. Vaast church. The door was open and some men were trying to get a small, yet very heavy solid marble altar up the steps. When we ventured in, a lady came towards us. ‘Do you want to visit the church?’ she asked. We said, yes please. ‘In that case you are very lucky,’ she continued ‘as usually the church is closed on weekdays during autumn and winter. But as they are putting in a new altar today, I invite you to come in and have a look around.’ Which we did, of course.

My colleague’s husband is a keen photographer and he was very happy to get the opportunity to shoot some excellent pictures of the church’s interior. I tried to follow his example, but my little hobby camera wasn’t quite up to the challenge of taking pictures in the dimly lit church. Here’s one of the solid stone pulpit. It’s about the only one that is worth posting as the others are far too dark … even when I ‘photoshop’ them.

Pulpit in the St. Vaast church in Bailleul

When we left the church, the men had almost managed to get the altar in its place. We said goodbye to the lady who was overviewing the work and continued our trip in the direction of the ‘Monts des Cats’, which - with its just over 170 metres - is the highest hill in the area, overlooking the village of our destination: Godewaersvelde.

(to be continued)

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The love boat ?

No, simply a restaurant boat on the Loire River in Montsoreau!

(P.S. We've never eaten there)

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Candes Saint-Martin - once more

2008 - Candes Saint-Martin
on the confluent of the Loire and the Vienne River.

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Travelling North

Actually that should read ‘Travelling South’! Let me explain. Today we’re off on a short trip to Northern France … which, for us, means travelling south!

Since discovering this region last February we have taken a liking to it. It feels familiar and strange at the same time. The countryside is not unlike the Belgian Flanders, with some isolated low hills (max. height 175m!) overlooking the large plains. Another particularity is that, although you’re in France, many people speak Flemish. Until the 18th century French and Belgian Flanders were united. Although it’s mainly older people who are still fluent in Flemish, you can feel that even the younger generation has a strong sense of belonging to this region with its own cultural and historical background.

February 2009: If you're into cycling, you may recognize this: 'Les pavés du Nord' (the cobblestones of the North), of the famous cycling race Paris-Roubaix.

What brought us here in the first place? Food, of course! When visiting the Somme Bay in 2008 we had stopped for lunch at a little restaurant near Abbeville. One of the local specialties on the menu was ‘Potjesvleesch’, this is ‘old’ Flemish for ‘potted meat’. Nowadays you would say and write ‘Potjesvlees’ , dropping the ‘sh’ at the end.

‘Potjesvleesch’ is a mixture of lean veal, pork, rabbit and chicken meat, stewed for hours with different spices and some vegetables. When the meat is nice and tender, it is put in a terrine. The cooking liquid, which contains a lot of natural gelatine, is poured over it. The terrine is then stored in a cold place until the gelatine sets. The potted meat is served cold, cut in thick slices on a bed of hot French Fries.

My friend really liked it and wanted to try it again. The restaurant near Abbeville being too far for a one-day trip, I toured the internet looking for a restaurant closer to the Belgian border. And that is how I discovered ‘Le Roi du Potjesvleesch’, (The King of the Potted Meat) a former butcher shop that’s now a restaurant in the tiny village of ‘Godewaersvelde’!! (How’s that for a name?)

The typical interior of 'Le Roi du Potjesvleesch', with an old Flemish coal burner in the corner.

When we told a recently retired colleague of mine and her husband about the Potjesvleesch they were very intrigued. So we invited them to join us on a mini-trip to ‘Potjesvleesch’ country. The drive takes less than two hours, so by leaving Brussels at about 8.30 a.m. we should have ample time to get to our destination by lunchtime. We plan to do some sightseeing on the way. There’s the ‘Mont des Cats’ abbey, which makes excellent cheese and the ‘Mont Noir’, one of the famous hills overlooking the countryside.

We also plan to visit a museum showing the production of the typical Flemish waffles. The guided tour includes a tasting session, so maybe we should visit the museum after lunch and have the waffles for dessert. We can then rinse our meal and dessert down with a beer from the local ‘Beck Brasserie’, (brewery) which also proposes a guided tour.

We’ve booked two rooms at the B&B where we stayed last February in the village of Sainghin-en-Melantois. There’s a little restaurant at walking distance, so we don’t need to take the cars when we go out for a light supper.

I’ll be back on Sunday with more stories and photos of our little getaway. In the meantime, I’ll post some pictures from earlier trips to France. I hope you’ll enjoy them.
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A sunny October afternoon

Brussels on a sunny October afternoon: the sidewalk terraces come alive!

A very talented street muscian, bringing regular rock&roll and attracting a large crowd!

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Surreal lunch at ‘La Roue d’Or’

After our stroll on the Grande Place and an aperitif at ‘La Chaloupe d’Or’ last Friday, it was time for lunch. Following my own advice (here), we avoided the tourist trap of the Rue des Bouchers and the Petite Rue des Bouchers, by choosing a restaurant in the Rue des Chapeliers on the other side of the ‘Place’.

Typical 'tourist trap' restaurant in the rue des Bouchers.

The street doesn’t look very attractive and fewer tourists venture this way. The restaurant ‘La Roue d’Or’ (the golden wheel) therefore mainly caters for the ‘locals’. By ‘locals’ I mean businessmen and Belgian passers-by who know the city.

'La Roue d'Or' in the rue des Chapeliers.

This restaurant was recommended to me many years ago by a good friend who likes his food. He told me about the wooden panelling and the Magritte-like frescos on the walls and the ceiling. René Magritte (Lessen, November 21st, 1898 – Schaarbeek, August 15th 1967) was a Belgian surrealist painter. One of his most famous works is a painting of a pipe with underneath a text reading ‘Ceci n’est pas une pipe’ (This is not a pipe). He has also painted a lot of men in bowler hats, a theme that is depicted on the walls and the ceiling of the restaurant.

Interior of 'La Roue d'Or' with the Magritte-like frescos on the walls and the ceiling.

Since the beginning of June of this year Magritte has his own permanent museum in Brussels where you can admire a selection of 400 of his paintings.

But back to the restaurant and our lunch! The friend who recommended the restaurant to me had also told me the brasserie-like kitchen was very generous. By which he meant that it was wiser not take a starter if you have a small appetite. On our first visit all these years ago, we discarded his warning; something we deeply regretted afterwards, as the portions turned out to be very generous indeed.

 

'Rognons à l'estragon' (Kidneys in a tarragon cream sauce). Yum!
They come with ... French Fries, of course!

Being older and wiser, we stuck to one dish this time. My friend had the ‘Rognons à l’estragon’ (kidneys in a tasty tarragon cream sauce) and I had the ‘Cassoulet’, not really a Belgian classic but nevertheless one of the restaurant’s specialties. As usual, we drank a slightly chilled Saumur Champigny with our meal.

After our meal, we walked back to the car park. The sun was out and the sidewalk terraces were doing great business. People were sipping coffee or eating ice cream or Brussel waffles with whipped Chantilly cream and fresh strawberries. Life can be beautiful … can’t it?

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Aperitif at the 'Grande Place'

Walking around Brussels will make you thirsty. If you're looking for a nice and typical place to have a pre-luncheon drink or one of the 400 Belgian beers, an Irish coffee (very popular) of just a coke or a plain glass of water, drop in at the 'Chaloupe d'Or' (golden rowing boat) on the Grande Place.  

 Cosy interior of the 'Chaloupe d'Or'.

It's not cheap, because in this district nothing is. But the atmosphere is great, with an open fire place, burning winter and summer, a lot of wood and antique objects. 

This is the aperitif that I had at the Grande Place in Brussels last Friday. Does anyone have an idea what's in it? It's sightly bitter-sweet,  fizzy and utterly refreshing. By the way, the green bit is a slice of cucumber!

P.S. The day before yesterday I forgot to ask you which legend you favour about Manneken Pis:  the fuse or the witch's curse?
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A tourist in my own country

On Friday's daytrip to Brussels I behaved like a regular tourist ... shooting snaps of everything that did and didn't move!

Here's a selection of photographes of what is considered by many as one of the most beautiful historic city squares in the world.

I wasn't the only one shooting pictures. In the background you'll notice the tavern 'La Chaloupe d'O'r (the golden rowing boat) where we had our apéritif.

On the left, with the red flags, the 'Maison du Roi' (the King's house), although it has nothing to do with our actual king's residence.

The spire of the city hall with - in the magnifying glass - the golden statue of Brussels' emblem: Saint Michael slaying the dragon.

City hall's entrance. There had been a wedding, hence the rose petals lying on the cobblestones.

These are just 4 of the 81 photos I shot last Friday. I hope you enjoy them and that they make you want to visit Brussels. If you want to see some more, just drop me a line!
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Brussels’ heroes

During our recent daytrip to the centre of Brussels we visited two of the city’s most famous heroes. They both have their statue near the historic ‘Grand Place’. The first one is Everard ‘t Serclaes. He lived in the 14^th century and was one of the city’s leading men. Defending the later capital’s rights and privileges, he got caught in a territorial feud with the Lord of Gaasbeek, who owned a castle just outside of Brussels. The feud escalated, leading to ‘t Serclaes’ being assassinated by the nobleman and his bastard son. In a cruel streak (…if you have a delicate disposition, you’d better skip the next line) ...the two villains cut off the dead man’s feet and pulled out his tongue.

When the mutilated body was found by the citizens of Brussels, they decided to take vengeance by raiding the Gaasbeek castle and stealing all the nobleman’s chickens. The man must have had a large flock of birds as the legend says that the city’s population feasted for days, roasting and eating the lord’s chickens. Even today Brussels’ inhabitants are still nicknamed ‘kiekenfretters’ (chicken eaters).

According to the same legend, caressing the arm of ‘t Serclaes’ statue under the arcades of the ‘Maison de l’Etoile’ in the ‘rue Buls’ will bring you luck. Like all passers-by, tourists and locals, I’ve stroked the bronze arm on many previous occasions … and I couldn’t keep myself from doing it again last Friday. Does it work? I don’t know, but it keeps the little doggy, the body and the angel’s face watching over the dead man very shiny indeed.

The main tourist attraction, however, is Manneken Pis. It’s a 2 ft statue of a nude boy relieving his bladder. There are several stories about why and how this little fellow became so famous. They all go back to the 15-16^th century when Brussels was a very prosperous city. And prosperity always leads to jealousy. One legend says that Manneken Pis extinguished the fuse of a bomb that had been lit by the enemy by peeing on it, thus preventing it from exploding and destroying the whole city.

Another legend claims that the little boy was caught relieving his bladder against the house of a witch, who promptly put a curse on him, making him pee continuously for the rest of his live. A sculptor, who saw what happened, felt sorry for the boy and made a statue that looked just like him. As soon as the statue was ready he went looking for the boy. When he found him on a street corner, relieving himself in a fountain, he pulled him away from the water and put the statue in his place, thus breaking the curse.




Being Brussels’ most prominent citizen, Manneken Pis has a vast wardrobe of tailor made suits that are on display in the stately ‘Maison du Roi’ right across the beautiful city hall. Leaders of state from all over the world, national and international institutions, celebrities, etc. consider it an honour to present the little guy with a typical costume or suit. If you’re lucky, he’ll be wearing his most recent attire when you’ll visit him. Souvenir shops all over Brussels sell miniature versions of the statue. Paris has its Eiffel tower. Brussels has its Manneken Pis … maybe not as prestigious, but definitely very cute!

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