BELGIAN TOWNS
The food of the country--Antwerp--Spa--Bruges--Ostende.
I, the Editor, cannot do better in commencing this chapter than to
introduce you to H.L., a _littérateur_ and a "fin gourmet," living in
Belgium, who has written the notes on "the food of the country" on
Antwerp and Spa, and to whom I am indebted for the entire succeeding
chapter on the Brussels' restaurants.
The Food of the Country
The Belgian is a big eater and a bird-eater. As a rule, in Belgium the
restaurant that can put forth the longest menu will attract the most
customers. There are people in Brussels who regularly travel out to
Tirlemont, a little Flemish town nearly twenty miles away, to partake of
a famous _table-d'hôte_ dinner to which the guests sit down at one
o'clock, and from which they seldom rise before five. The following is a
specimen _carte_ of one of these Gargantuan gorges served in December.
Huîtres de Burnham.
Potage Oxtail.
Saumon de Hollande à la Russe.
Bouchées à la Reine.
Chevreuil Diane Chasseresse.
Bécasses bardées sur Canapé.
Tête de veau en Tortue.
Surprises Grazilla (a Sorbet).
Pluviers dorés poire au vin.
Jambonneau au Madère.
Petites fèves de Marais à la Crème.
Salmis de Caneton Sauvage.
Faisan de Bohême.
Salade de Saison.
Dinde truffée Mayonnaise.
Glace Vanillée.
Fruits. Gâteaux. Dessert.
All this for five francs! with a bottle of Burgundy to wash it down, at
any price from a crown to a pound. One thing that can safely be said
about the Belgian restaurants is that a good bottle of Burgundy can
nearly always be bought in both town and country. It is often told that
the best Burgundy in the world is to be found in Belgian cellars.
Whether this is a reputation maintained in honour of the Dukes of
Burgundy who once ruled the land, or whether the good quality of the
wine is due to the peculiar sandy soil, which permits of an unvarying
temperature in the cellars, I will leave others to determine, but the
fact remains that from a Beaujolais at 2 francs 50 centimes to a
Richebourg at 20 francs, the Burgundy offered to the traveller in
Belgium is generally unimpeachable. Ghent is another town famous for its
big feasts. The market dinner on Friday at the Hôtel de la Poste is
often quoted as a marvellous "spread," but the best restaurant in Ghent
is undoubtedly Mottez's, on the Avenue Place d'Armes. This is an
old-fashioned place with no appearance of a restaurant outside, and a
stranger would easily pass it by. Here one dines both _à la carte_ and
at _table-d'hôte_; the _table-d'hôte_ is well worth trying, though some
of the dishes can be safely passed over. The wines at Mottez's are very
good, and some special old Flemish beer in bottles should be asked for.
A great local dish is _Hochepot Gantois_, a mixture of pork, sausages,
and vegetables which only the very hungry or the very daring should
experiment upon at a strange place. Flemish cooking as a rule is fat and
porky, and there is a dish often seen on the _carte_ called _Choesels à
la Bruxelloise_, which is considered a delicacy by the natives, and it
is supposed to be a hash cooked in sherry or marsala; it is, however, a
dish of mystery. A _plat_ always to be found in Belgium (especially in
the Flanders district), is _Waterzoei de Poulet_, a chicken broth served
with the fowl. This is usually very safe, and any one going to Mottez's
at Ghent should try it there. _Carbonades Flamandes_ is another Flemish
dish which, if well done, can be eaten without fear. This is beef-steak
stewed in "faro," an acid Flemish beer, and served with a rich brown
sauce. _Salade de Princesses Liégeoises_ is a salad made with scarlet
runners mixed with little pieces of fried bacon. The bacon takes the
place of oil, while the vinegar should be used with rather a heavy hand.
When other salads are scarce, this makes a really toothsome dish. Of
all the Belgian _plats_, however, first and foremost must be placed
_Grives à la Namuroise_, which of course are only to be obtained in the
autumn. I have said that the Belgian is a bird-eater, and throughout the
country every species of bird is pressed into service for the table. A
stranger visiting the Ardennes will be struck by the remarkable silence
of the woods, which is caused by the wholesale destruction of the birds.
How the supply is kept up it is difficult to say, but no Belgian dinner
is considered complete without a bird of some sort, and when _grives_
are in season, thousands must be served daily. A _grive_ proper is a
thrush, but I fear that blackbirds and starlings often find their way to
the _casserole_ under the name of a _grive_. They should be cooked with
the trail, in which mountain-ash berries are often found. These give the
bird a peculiar and rather bitter flavour, but the berry that must be
used in the cooking is that of the juniper plant, which grows very
plentifully in Belgium. A traveller through Belgium in the summer or
early autumn should always make a point of ordering _grives_ at a good
restaurant. When _grives_ go out of season, we have woodcock and snipe;
and there are several houses which make a speciality of _Bécasses à la
fine Champagne_. At Mons and at Liège, and I think at Charleroi also,
there is every year a woodcock feast, just as there is an oyster feast
at Colchester. At these festivities a little wax candle is placed on the
table beside each guest, so that he can take the head of his _bécasse_
and frizzle it in the flame before he attacks its brains. Then we have
plovers and larks in any quantity, but I would not like to vouch for
what are often served as _alouettes_ and _mauviettes_. The one bird that
we never get in Belgium is grouse, unless it is brought over specially
from England or Scotland. It has always been found impossible to rear
grouse in the country. In the neighbourhood of Spa there are great
stretches of moorlands reaching almost to the German frontier, covered
with heather, which look as if they would be the ideal home of the
grouse. Here M. Barry Herrfeldt, of the Château du Marteau at Spa, a
real good sportsman, has tried his very utmost to rear grouse; first he
laid down thousands of eggs and set them under partridges, but this
proved a failure; then he introduced young birds, but they all died off,
and I think he has now given up the attempt in despair. Whilst speaking
of partridges, I ought to mention that there is no partridge in the
world so plump and sweet as one shot in the neighbourhood of Louvain,
where they feed on the beetroot cultivated for the sugar factories. At a
restaurant _Coq de bruyère_ is often served as grouse, but this is a
blackcock. One last note: outside the capital and at all but the best
restaurants the Flemish custom is to "dine" in the middle of the day and
"sup" at about seven.
Antwerp
It is strange that a big city and seaport like Antwerp, which is a
favourite stopping place of English and American visitors to the
Continent, should have so few good restaurants. None of the
establishments near the quays can be classed as even third-rate, and it
is in the neighbourhood of the Bourse that the best eating-houses will
be found. At the Rocher de Cancale, usually called Coulon's (after the
proprietor), the cooking and the wines are everything that can be
desired, but the prices can hardly be called moderate. This restaurant
is situated at the corner of the Place de Meir and the Rue des Douze
Mois, a little street leading down to the Bourse. On the Place de Meir
itself is Bertrand's, another restaurant of the same high character,
which, to the regret of its regular frequenters, is shortly to be
converted into a larger and cheaper establishment. Everything at
Bertrand's has always been first class, and local people who "knew the
ropes" could get there an excellent _table-d'hôte_ lunch for 3 francs.
This _prix fixe_, however, was not advertised, and the stranger eating
the same meal _à la carte_, would probably find his bill 10 or 12 francs
without wine. Antwerp has a grill-room that can be highly recommended in
the Criterium, situated on the Avenue de Keyser, near the Central
Railway Station. The Criterium is also known as Keller's, and has a
large English _clientèle_. Besides chops and steaks from the grill,
there are other viands, and a _table-d'hôte_ dinner is supplied in the
middle of the day at 2 francs 50 centimes. The food is of the best,
while a special feature is made of English beers and other drinks
usually sought after by the Briton travelling abroad. The restaurant at
the Zoological Gardens is well managed and much frequented.
Spa
"Les jeux sont faits! Rien ne va plus." It is not the cry of the
croupier, it is the proclamation of Parliament. What will happen now
that the Cercle des Etrangers at Spa has been closed, in consequence of
the Belgian Anti-gambling Bill which came into operation on the 1st
January 1903, it is difficult to say; one thing is certain, the hotels
and restaurants will suffer, for more people came to the pretty little
town on the outskirts of the Ardennes to try their luck at _roulette_ or
_trente et quarante_ than to drink the iron waters at the Pouhon and
other springs, or to take the effervescing baths and douches. Once upon
a time, Spa was one of the most fashionable and most frequented
watering-places in Europe, but gradually its glories have departed,
although its natural beauties remain. Of the Spa restaurants as they
exist to-day, there is little to be said and less to be praised. To tell
the truth, there is not a really first-class restaurant in the place. To
nearly all the springs, which are located in easy proximity to the town,
so-called restaurants are attached, but the patronage being intermittent
and uncertain, the choice of _plats_ is limited, and the service is slow
and bad. The Sauvenière Spring is nearest to the town, but the drive
there is all up-hill, monotonous, and dusty. The Géronstère is more
prettily situated, and is a favourite resort for luncheon during the
summer season; but unless the meal is specially ordered beforehand, the
visitor will, as a rule, have to be content with eggs, beef-steaks, or
cutlets. The Tonnelet is situated on the roadside, and the restaurant
there is often uncomfortable and dusty. Those who make the Tours des
Fontaines will be best advised to stop for lunch at the Source de
Barisart, which is situated in a most picturesque part of the woods, 160
feet above the town, from which it is distant about a mile. The
much-written-of Promenade de Meyerbeer is close at hand, and a stroll
beneath the trees before or after lunch will be enjoyed, for the
surroundings are charming and romantic. If previous notice for a meal
can be given, so much the better: there is probably a telephone from the
town. In trout time this fish should be included, as it is caught
plentifully in the district, and is, as a rule, fresh and good. As
before said, there is no good restaurant in the town,--excepting, of
course, those in connection with the principal hotels, where a
_table-d'hôte_ is usually served at mid-day and in the evening. The Café
Restaurant attached to the Casino is convenient, and will be found more
than sufficient now that the gaming rooms have been suppressed. On the
other side of the Casino is the Hôtel d'Orange, well appointed and with
a beautiful garden, and M. Goldschmidt, the proprietor, looks well after
his guests. His dining-room has all the character of a restaurant, being
open to the outside public. The company there is as a rule
gay--sometimes, it is said, even a little too gay, but everything is of
the best and well served. Probably, however, the gourmet will find
things more to his taste at the Grand Hôtel de l'Europe, where M.
Henrard Richard always paid great attention to his cuisine. Although he
no longer personally controls the management of L'Europe, the hotel is
still under the direction of his family, and retains its high
reputation. The following is a menu of a 6-franc _table-d'hôte_ dinner
served in September. It has not been specially selected, and is
therefore a fair specimen:--
Bisque d'Ecrevisses.
Brunoise à la Royale.
Truites Meunière.
Filet de Boeuf garni Beaulieu.
Ris de veau Princesse.
Petits pois à la Française.
Perdreaux rôtis sur Canapés.
Glace Vanille.
Gaufrettes.
Corbeille de Fruits.
The wines here are good, the Moselle and Rhine wines being especially
cheap. Other hotels with restaurants attached that may be mentioned are
the Britannique (with a fine garden in which meals are served), the
Bellevue, the Flandre, and the Rosette. The last mentioned is a small
hotel attached to the Palace of the late Queen of the Belgians, and is
run by Her Majesty's _chef_. The meals for the Palace were always cooked
at the hotel, and the restaurant, though simply appointed, has latterly
been excellent in its way. Strangers feeding there should try and secure
a table on the little glass-covered terrace in front of the hotel.
Mention might also be made of a couple of small restaurants that have in
the past been supported by the professional players at the tables. One
in a side street near the Casino, kept by a Frenchman, has a reputation
for its cheap French wines; and the Macon, at a franc the bottle, is
indeed drinkable. At the other, the Limbourg, the cooking is German in
character and flavour. Both places may be recommended as wholesome and
honest to people who want to "get through" on about 10 francs a day.
There is no more to be said.
Bruges
It always seems to me that Bruges is the quietest city in the world. At
least when one sits out in the garden of the Hôtel de Flandre, after
sampling some of the excellent old Burgundy which reposes in its
cellars, and listens to the chimes from the brown belfry, a feeling of
perfect peace steals over one. There are few hotels in Belgium, if any,
which have such a fine selection of Burgundy as the Flandre has, and the
food, if not noticeably good, is at all events not noticeably bad. Otto,
who used to be the head waiter at the Hôtel de Flandre, is now the
proprietor of the Hôtel de Londres in the station square; and though the
appearance of the hotel is not inviting, he can cook a _sole au gratin_
as well as any cook in Belgium. The _table-d'hôte_ lunch at the Panier
d'Or, in the chief square, is very excellent for the money.
Ostend
I do not think that there is much to be said in favour of the
restaurants of the big hotels at Ostend. One gets an imitation of a
Parisian meal at half again the Paris price. I have little doubt that
the cessation of gambling will bring all the prices down at the hotels,
but during past years gamblers' prices have been asked and paid. At the
Continental there is a 10-franc _table-d'hôte_ dinner, much patronised,
because people know exactly what it will cost them; and at the Palace
Hotel there is a _table-d'hôte_ room where the food served is well
cooked; but it lacks the life and bustle of the restaurant, and most
people who go there for a meal or two revert to the restaurant with its
_à la carte_ breakfasts and dinner. There is a Château Laroque in the
cellars of the Palace at 7 francs a bottle which is quite excellent.
There is a little restaurant, called the Taverne St-Jean, in a side
street, the Rampe de Flandre, kept by an ex-head waiter from the
Restaurant Ré at Monte Carlo, at which the cookery is thoroughly
bourgeois, but good of its kind and the prices low; and there is on the
quay a house, kept by a fisherman who is the owner of several smacks,
where the explorer who does not mind surroundings redolent of the sea
can get a good fried sole, and a more than fair bottle of white wine.
Any one who wishes to see what a Belgian meal can be in the number of
courses should go by train past Blankenberghe, which is a pale
reflection of Ostend, to Heyste, and partake of a mid-day dinner there
at one of the hotels patronised by the Brussels tradesmen and their
families, who come to the little sea-town for change of air. Fifteen or
sixteen plates piled in front, or at the side of each place, mark the
number of courses to be gone through, and most of the guests eat the
meal through from soup to fruit without shirking a single course.