a chill wind from Brussels

Not exactly big-city black, but boy was I glad I'd brought it! Brussels was cold and drizzly when we arrived, sunny and colder thé next day, anxious-looking non-tourists milling about itopping that someone would say something of financial significance.

On a more cheerful note: dinner! Our first night, we charged back to Comme Chez Soi, where we'd last been in June. Too much of a good thing? Not hardly. In brief, the food was just as wonderful, the crowd a little cooler, more somber. Not a picture-taker in the place. Fall dishes were (natch) featured, and the amuse-bouche was a savory little pumpkin mousse. It's tough to make pumpkin taste like anything, and I dreaded starting with something that tasted like pumpkin pie. No worries, this was light, fluffy even, and tasted mildly vegetal and like, um, itself. A good omen. For first courses we repeated what we'd done in June, and my main course was delectable venison, in two services.

The first plate was arranged like a woodland scene, but despite the cuteness the meat was medium rare and hearty. The second plate was more venison, this time accompanied by a generous serving of sautéed wild mushrooms.
to be continued

Brussels: dinner at Restaurant Bruneau

Very discreet, quiet and respectable location. Inside, Brazilian diplomats with blondes, Asian bankers with waiting security, prosperous local businessmen and of course, perpetually hungry food tourists. The last time we were here, thinner, edgier, more hopeful, it was also spring, but the garden was open, the place was full of flowers, and people were talking about forced bilingualism.

Tonight it's cold and rainy, politicians are behaving badly in public, and just as I'm about to get maudlin, champagne arrives, with little yummies, including an exquisite "mini-gazpacho."

Delicate sauteed goose foie gras follows

and then I dig into veal sweetbreads with a mélange of new peas and baby fava beans,


and he succumbs to a nice piece of roast veal topped with morels.

Oh, and there was dessert - almost forgot, sommelier got chatty, but remembered in time,


Fresh strawberries around strawberry mousse with strawberry coulis


And for me a modest serving of a "mojito" (lime, mint, a little rum) sorbet with mulberry sirop. Seems to be a lot of lime around this spring.


Coffee, candies, cookies, truffles, and good night. Tomorrow: TGV to Lyon.

packing again; decisions are made and we're almost ready

Most evenings when we're in a non-English speaking country are spent in restaurants. After a day of sight-seeing, climbing, driving, museum-ing, whatever, we like the idea of sitting somewhere pleasant and having people bring us things. Theatre, yes, although I spent an uncomfortable evening at the Comédie Francaise a few years ago. A production of a certain Molière comedy had received glowing, no, incandescent reviews, and we were able to get tickets.



We'd both read the play in school, and the thought of seeing it as grown-ups and enjoying the jokes and slapstick without wondering which parts would be on the final had some appeal. However, the reason the reviews were so enthusiastic was simple: the genius director had updated the play. It was now a subtle (or perhaps not) contemporary political satire centered on the then-current in-fighting in two (or maybe three) of France's major political parties.The allusions were beyond me. Have you ever been in a situation where you understand every word and yet the meaning of what's going on totally eludes you? Like being at a party where you don't know how people got their nicknames, Like, oh, people are laughing because Mr. S. is perhaps really not very tall. Or perhaps only tall in parts....Bronze Age Guy did not waste a minute in pointing out that we could have dined very well on what those tickets cost, and moreover we would have understood every word on the menus. So... an occasional concert or dance performance, but mostly the evenings are spent à table. And because that's the evening's entertainment, the evening's theatre, we just relax and enjoy it.

Sandwich on Baguette

Market Bounty

Lunch on the go is a different story. If we know (and we almost always do) that dinner will be an Event, then lunch will usually be as simple as we can make it. Favorites are: baguette sandwiches from a convenient branch of Boulangerie Paul, or from a convenient branch of Eric Kayser; failing one of these chains, any local boulangerie with a line of French people at lunchtime! Or, if it's a really fine day, we'll pick up a few slices of this, that or the other (cheese, pâtés, cold cuts, plus a good-looking bread from the nearest street market (here is a link Paris markets to a list of street markets in Paris, which are very strictly regulated by the government). Different markets are open on different days, only a few are open every day. We take our market bounty to a park on a nice day and pique-nique. Naturally my neurotic packing includes: paper napkins, wipes, plastic forks, plastic knives, plastic spoons (a few for cities, more for a road trip), and of course a corkscrew and plastic glasses.

So my travel wardrobe is generally: comfortable for the day, gorgeous and sophisticated for the evening dressier for evening. Day: pants (black) or jeans (black), short leather jacket (black), tee or shirt (you guessed it). This looks like a hot spring so the jacket may wind up in a tote bag for part of the day. And because friends are telling me that it's been in the 80s already, one or two pencil skirts, each with tank and cotton cardigan (thanks, J.Crew!).

Going out: stating the obvious, some places are less formal than others. Here I must say that as challenging as I find packing, it's even more frustrating to come home and unpack a bunch of unworn outfits! So for restaurant dinners, mostly I plan to wear black silk slacks, with either Missoni top or Rykiel striped silk sweater (almost tissue-thin), but I'm bringing a silk dress for the "splurge" evenings. And always, something to throw over shoulders in case of wayward breezes from strange air conditioners. I had some tailoring done: the Rykiel sweater had 3 gold buttons on one shoulder, which to my mind made it look mumsy and also made it impossible to add any jewelry. The buttons were on some kind of rivet, thus couldn't be changed without unravelling the whole sweater. So since the shoulder/neck business was black, I just painted the buttons black with 2 coats of a mysterious OPI nail polish which caused them to vanish. Maybe this isn't tailoring, but it's certainly an alteration. And the silk dress has a very graceful flow, which was clumsily interrupted by a side zipper that was simply too heavy for the fabric. I had no trouble getting in and out of the dress without using the zipper, so my tailor simply removed it.

Gaaaah, the striped sweater is back to full price! Talk about shopping karma!

Next travel post will be a summary of the itinerary!