Robbed

Sometime on Wednesday, between the hours of 7:10am and 6:05pm, someone chipped away the wood around the lock on my apartment door, busted out the lock, entered my apartment, trashed the place, wrote on two walls with my favorite lipstick, and stole cash and a few other personal items. As if the process of moving wasn't stressing me out enough, I now had a forced entry burglary on my hands. A few panicked phone calls later and the police were on there way. All I could do was wait and take stock of the damage.

They didn't get much: 20 euros, 60 dollars, some euro coins from my coin jar, a bottle of perfume, the nice Belgian chocolates I was going to bring home as gifts, a few items of clothing and two different colors of nail polish. If there is a silver lining in all of this it's that for some reason the criminals weren't interested in my laptop, digital camera, ipod, credit cards, two passports, or any other items of value. In that sense, I feel lucky in my unluckiness. Less than a week before an international flight the last thing you want to be doing is going through the hassle of replacing big-ticket items. Not to mention trying to get a rush passport.

It's a terrible feeling knowing that strangers invited themselves into the private sanctuary of your home and took the opportunity to rummage through your life. The only other time I've personally been a victim of crime while overseas was in Nice, France in 2003 when a man tried to mug me, but I fought him off. This time was far worse, as they robbed me not only of my cash and a few small, but not entirely unmeaningful items, but also of my sense of home and security. Belgium's little way of saying, "And don't let the door hit you on the way out!"

Leaving Brussels

As mentioned in an earlier post, the countdown has officially begun: I leave Brussels and move back to Washington, DC in only eight days. Like many of you, I've been here before. I've reached the end of numerous long-term stays overseas, and have fought through the hassles of packing, unpacking, and reorganizing a life somewhere else so often I practially have it down to an art. So I know that this is normally the time when I start to get a little sad - sometimes even a little distraught - about having to leave my current home, even if I'm excited about the new one that awaits. But this time feels different. There's no sadness here, and certainly no distress. This time, I'm ready to move on.

I don't mean to say I don't enjoy living in Brussels, or that this hasn't been as amazing of an experience as any other time I've lived abroad. I do enjoy Brussels, and how could six months in the Capital of Europe be anything but an awesome experience? Between the mouth-watering local specialties (chocolate, French fries, beer), the weekend trips to nearby cities (London, Amsterdam, Paris), meeting new people (including a fellow Minnesotan!), and simply living life in my adorable neighborhood (the cheese shop down the block is pure heaven), I couldn't have asked for a better trip. So what's with the ambivalence towards it all coming to an end?

Maybe it has something to do with my attachment to this city. I enjoy Brussels, but I don't love it like I love Paris. If I never lived in Brussels again it wouldn't bother me in the least, whereas I'm constantly thinking of ways to get back to my beloved City of Light. It could also be that I don't see such an enormous difference between living in Brussels and living in DC. When it was time to leave Cannes, France for St. Joseph, Minnesota, I knew I'd be in for a shock. But going from one government city with crappy weather to another government city with crappy weather? Piece of cake. Or maybe it's precisely because I've been here before. Maybe after you have so many moves under your belt you become immune to their more drastic emotional effects. Yes, there are plenty of things I'll miss about my life in Brussels, and I'm sure the day I fly to DC will be more than a little bittersweet, but history has taught me that life will go on. And that my next international adventure is probably just around the corner.

An Interview with Author Joe Stange, Belgian Beer Expert

What could be better than living in a city that's world famous for its delicious beer? How about living in the same apartment building as someone who is an expert on where best to procure said delicious beer?

One of the first things I learned about my neighbor, Joe Stange, is that he co-wrote a book called Around Brussels in 80 Beers. As a brand new arrival in town who was overwhelmed with unpacking and settling in, I hadn't yet had a chance to sample the local wares. When we met, Joe shook my hand, handed me two different beers he was testing at the time, and asked me to give them a try. Welcome to Brussels!

Joe moved to Belgium a few years back and promptly took his appreciation for a good brew to another level. Partnering up with local beer aficionado, Yvan de Baets, he set out on the wholly enviable task of finding the best places to drink the best pours (or bottles). I simply had to ask him a few questions about this amazing gig:

What made you decide to write this book?

At first, boredom. I had a freelance contract that ended, so I needed something to do. Meanwhile my wife and I had been filling up Moleskines with beer notes, visiting cafés and breweries. A few people suggested I write a book about beer before I took the idea seriously. Once I came around, I knew I wanted to write a book about the best places to drink the best beer in Brussels — mainly because nobody had done it yet. Local enthusiast Stephen D'Arcy had been updating a really excellent pamphlet, but it wasn't well known and not officially published.

Soon I connected with Tim Webb, author of the Good Beer Guide Belgium. He was looking to publish a Brussels guide essentially just plugged me into the project.

You wrote this book with a co-author, Yvan de Baets. How did you two meet up and begin working together?

It was all Tim's idea, and I think it turned out to be a really good one. Tim's initial plan was to have Yvan write the book. Yvan and I had met a couple of times at Cantillon, where he was working, and at the Bruxellensis festival that he organizes with Bernard Leboucq — who's also his partner at the Brasserie de la Senne. So right away you can see we're dealing with a busy guy. Part of my role was to organize the research and keep the project moving.

But I think the best thing about the match was our complementary perspectives. I'm the wide-eyed beer geek foreigner, while Yvan is the savvy connoisseur bruxellois brewer. It's a more complete and useful book because we were able to consider things though each other's eyes.

How long did it take you to explore all of the bars in your book?

Depends on how you look at it. I'd been going to several of them for two years, and Yvan obviously for much longer than that. But once we started on the book, it still took more than a year. Someone with determination, a strong liver, and nothing else to do could do it much faster, but we were thorough with it. There were about 40 other places that didn't make the cut. A brief flurry of new places opened just before deadline, making things interesting. And even after deadline we kept checking on places, opening hours, phone numbers and so on, to make sure it was as accurate as possible when it went to press.

Were you always a beer fan or did moving to Brussels influence your interest in brews?

I've loved beer for most of my life, including craft beer, but I wasn't always discriminating. I took pride in not being a beer snob. Then I moved here. What happened next could happen anywhere, though: I accidentally educated my palate by taking notes. Amazing what you can learn about what you like and don't like. The real reward is in putting down the pen and just enjoying your new favorites, over and over. I still believe in "to each their own," but my "own" is better now.

If someone only had time to visit one bar in Brussels, which one should it be?

Moeder Lambic in St-Gilles (especially now that it's non-smoking!). Incredible selection, friendly locals, knowledgeable staff, welcoming atmosphere... The new Moeder Lambic Fontainas (at Place Fontainas 8) is great too, with the best draft beer selection in Belgium. But the ambiance is more cool and chic, whereas I think most beer tourists prefer more warm and kitschy. So I vote for St-Gilles.

If you were stranded on an island and could only have one Belgian beer with you, which one would it be?

Easy. Saison Dupont. It's the one that works for me in any mood, any weather, with any food. Close second is Taras Boulba.

What about bars outside of Brussels? Any recommendations for other Belgian cities?

Bruges has an unusually high concentration of great beer cafés — the Brugs Beertje being top among them. I'd also recommend getting out of the cities into the country and villages... the Fourquet tavern at the Brasserie de Blaugies — a great farmhouse brewery — is near the French border and one of our favorite places. Terrific beer and meat grilled on an open flame in the middle of the tavern.

Why does Belgium have such good beer? Can you give us a little history lesson?

In short, it's because small craft breweries survive and do their thing. This despite various invasions, wars, and corporate takeovers. The beers from the small, artisanal places are not always great, but they're never boring. The strength of Belgian beer lies in its diversity. There is nothing about Belgian beer that's better than British or German or American beer, frankly, but there is an unusual combination of tradition and creativity here. And plain old stubbornness. Some villages still cling to their own beer styles, although giant companies like A-B InBev have swallowed many and made them less fun.

Also, growth of exports to countries like the U.S. and U.K. has allowed the smaller breweries to survive and occasionally thrive. Many Belgians know that Belgian beer is famous worldwide, but they might be pointing to a drab commercial pils when they say so. But its the small breweries and their stunning array of flavors that put Belgian beer on the map in the first place.

Buy Joe's book

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Bye, Bye Chocolate Cake

The countdown to Brussels Departure has begun. In less than three weeks - February 23rd, to be exact - I'll be headed back to Washington, DC; back to my old apartment, my old job, and my old stateside life. Already wondering how I'm going to live without readily available gâteau au chocolat such as this:

Beer Exploration at Délirium

If you come to Brussels looking for Belgian beer you won't have to look far. Whether trappist, lambic, blonde, brune, bottled or tapped, beer is everywhere - everywhere! - in this city. But one of the more, shall we say, unique places to get beer the Belgian way is Délirium Café, which is nothing short of a multi-level beer lover's Mecca. Sure, it's a bit of a tourist trap, but it's quite possibly the best tourist trap in Brussels, and definitely worth a visit. After you check out the cultured sights such as the Grande Place and the Musée des Beaux-Arts, your post-sightseeing liquid award awaits at the place that's so famous its patrons refer to it by its first name only: Délirium.

Délerium is tucked away on a narrow street (actually an "impasse") in the old part of central Brussels, not far from the Grande Place. Head downstairs and pull up a chair at one of the barrel tables. Take a minute to admire the decoration, which consists of keg tops and beer signs from around the world, then belly up to the bar, look at the beer menu, and make your choice. Don't be intimidated by the list whose 2000+ options could in fact make you a bit nervous. The names don't come with descriptions, but you can't go wrong by ordering one that sounds nice and enjoying whatever it is you get served. Better yet, go with a group and take turns buying rounds of beers based on name interest alone, which is a lot of fun and will allow you to get an overview of the bar's wares at the same time. Or, if you like to be more strategic in your beer drinking, they do post descriptions on their website.

A warning: Belgian beer is strong. It's not unusual to see anywhere from 8-10% (or higher!) alcohol content marked on the label, which is much more than what you're used to if you're used to drinking American beer. Depending on what kind of night you're looking to have, this can be a good thing or a bad thing. Either way, it doesn't hurt to remember that Délirium's mascot is a pink elephant. If you start seeing them, it might be time to head home.

Soaking in the City of Spa

Winters in Belgium are dark, dreary, and seemingly without end. Latitudinally speaking, this country is up in middle-Canada range, which means that for too long out of the year the sun rises around 9 a.m. and sets before anyone even thinks about leaving work. Add to that the regular Belgian weather pattern of 364 days of clouds often mixed with rain and sometimes even snow and you've got a populace so racked with the winter blues it's hard to imagine recovery could be possible.

Then you learn about a city called Spa. Yes, Spa, as in the city that gave English a word that means "A resort providing therapeudic baths." Located in the Walloon (French-speaking) Region of Belgium, and known as the home of the Formula One Belgian Grand Prix, and for its mineral water company of the same name, the city's Thermes de Spa attract winter-worn pilgrams who come to soak in the baths, roast in the saunas, and breathe in menthol-scented air in the steam rooms. In short, it's paradise for those of us who are counting the days until Spring.

For the surprisingly reasonable price of 17 euros, a couple of friends and I were able to spend three glorious hours in the Thermes' warm, envelopping, fully relaxing, non-winter environment. The café food was yummy, and the view of the surrounding hillsides that you take in while leisurely floating in the outdoor pool was magnificent. We left Spa feeling healthy, refreshed, and ready to tackle what's left of this dark, dreary, never-ending Belgian winter.

If you go:

Les Thermes de Spa
Colline d'Annette et Lubin, 4900 Spa
Telephone : +32(0)87 77 25 60

About 1h30 from Brussels by car

Graffiti and Gingerbread

A few weeks ago I told you about my sister's impending visit to Brussels. I was anxious for her first trip to Europe - would she have fun, would she like it here - but those worries turned out to be completely unfounded, as we had a fantastic time in Brussels, Amsterdam, and, of course, Paris. She LOVED Paris.

Seeing your town from the eyes of a visitor can be a reveletory experience, and my sister did not disappoint. On her first day in Brussels she made two observations:

1. "All the houses look like gingerbread houses!"

and 2. "There is graffiti everywhere!"

Truer words about the Belgian capital were never spoken.

Let it Snow

Airport cancellations, slippery roads, unshoveled sidewalks. Brussels obviously doesn't know how to deal with a little snowstorm. Thankfully, my sister arrived just before the skies opened up, so we spent the day nice and warm in my apartment, catching up over cups of tea and away from the madness. Later in the afternoon we ventured out on foot to enjoy the beauty of a European city under a blanket of snow.

Cheap Stuff in Brussels

For an American who earns her paycheck in dollars, living in Belgium is a financial nightmare. The exchange rate being what it is ($1.50 to the euro as of today), every single purchase is a losing proposition. Thankfully, there are a few things in Brussels that are so inexpensive to begin with that even changing dollars into euros doesn't render them sticker-shock worthy. Here are some of my favorites, otherwise known as the exhaustive list of cheap stuff in Brussels:


1. Fresh Flowers

At my neighborhood's weekend market I can purchase an enormous, perfectly arranged bouquet of colorful fresh flowers for €10, or about $15. I recently bought 20 yellow roses for €6.90, which is roughly $10.35. The cost of fresh flowers in the U.S. usually keeps me away from them, but here in Brussels the Saturday shopping isn't done unless I have my weekly bouquet in hand.

2. Breakfast

It's not hard to find an expresso and a croissant for around €2, total. While not quite the breakfast of champions, it's delicious, filling, and only sets me back about $3. Sold.

3. French Wine

A good Côtes du Rône can be had for around €4.50. I found a white Gascogne that goes well with everything for €3.75. A really good bottle - one that makes you swear off non-French wines forever - can be had for less than €15. Impeccable vins de France for as little as $7 a bottle? Try finding that in the U.S.

4. Health Care

My American health insurance doesn't cover anything short of a life-or-death situation while I'm overseas. Big deal: visiting a specialist in Brussels cost me €40, or about $60. The prescription she wrote me cost €5.25. At around $8, that prescription cost me less out-of-pocket than my prescription copay costs me in the U.S. Thank you, government negotiated drug prices!

5. Train Tickets

Within-country travel - say, from Brussels to Antwerp - is not only cheap, it's also easy. Just go to the station, hand over a few small euros, and hop one of the dozens of daily trains that service your route. If you plan to travel to another country, you'll have to do a bit more planning, but your patience will be rewarded with amazing deals. I just booked a round-trip ticket to Paris for €40, and last weekend I traveled first class on a high-speed train to Cologne, Germany for only €50.

6. Beer

There's no need to pay more than €2 for .25 liters of decent Belgian brew, to be enjoyed this time of year while cozily bundled up under the heated terrace of a café in Brussels. Yes, la vie est belle.

The Parrots of Brussels

The first time I saw them I thought my eyes were playing tricks on my jet-lagged mind. Parrots in Brussels? But then when I told an acquaintence where I lived she said, "Oh, the parrot neighborhood!" I don't know the story of how it happened (pets who got loose and adapted well to freedom?), but huge colonies of green parrots do live in the Belgian captial. Here's a shot of them in one of their enormous nests.

Ruminations on the Musical Instruments Museum

Brussels is known more for its waffles and beer (not necessariyly in that order) than for its arts and culture, but look closely and you'll see that the Capital of Europe is brimming with intellectual/creative/thought-provoking stimulation. Bruxellois and tourists alike have everything from a theater that specializes in Shakespeare to a comic strip museum at their disposal. If you're traveling to Brussels and you want to do something other than see what costume the Mannekin Pis is wearing, might I suggest a visit to the Musical Instruments Museum? Housed in a striking Art Nouveau building, and often refered to as the MIM, this interactive museum is the perfect first stop on your cultural tour of Brussels.

When I visited the MIM with my friend The Cupcake Avenger back in September, we didn't really know what to expect. So, we were pleasantly surprised to discover that for the relatively small price of 5 euros we would receive entrance to the museum and a set of headphones that would allow us to listen to the instruments. With the MIM to ourselves (it was early Saturday morning in Europe, after all) we wandered through three different galleries while dancing to the beats, rhythms and songs that automatically began each time we would step in front of a display. The gallery that is dedicated to traditional instruments from around the world was my favorite, and I happily tapped my toes to the old French accordians in particular. In addition to increasing our knowledge of musical history, visiting the MIM gave us an opportunity to enjoy some good old fashioned fun.

After listening to everything from bagpipes to a mariachi band we headed up to the MIM's rooftop café for a couple of lattés and a gorgeous panoramic view of the city. I thought about everything we had just seen and heard and was reminded of the universality of music. The audio guides of most museums ask you to select your language: French? English? Spanish? Japanese? But not the MIM. When you put on those clunky headphones you listen to the same sounds as everyone else, no translation needed. It was a nice realization; one that made me feel all warm and fuzzy about the world around us. And hungry for some waffles and beer.

Warning Sign

The first thing I thought when I saw this little guy was, "How cute! He looks like he's ice skating!"

The second thing I thought was, "Wait. It's going to get cold enough in Brussels for this lake to freeze over?"

Merde.

Armistice Day

Ever wonder why poppies have come to symbolize Armistice Day? It's all because of Belgium, or more specifically, a Canadian physician serving in Belgium during WWI. As the story goes, Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae wrote a poem in 1915 called In Flanders Fields after witnessing the death of his friend. The first line and second to last lines of his poem mention the poppies that grew in droves on the battlefields of Flanders, some say as a result of the thousands of corpses that fertilized the soil. Published in England while The Great War was still being fought, In Flanders Fields became a symbol of WWI and quite possibly that war's most famous poem, and the poppy became the war's symbol of remembrance.

In Flanders Fields By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918) Canadian Army

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Armistice Day (also known as Rememberance Day, and known as Veterans Day in the United States) is celebrated on November 11th by much of Western Europe. It marks the day in 1918 when the WWI Allies and Germany signed an agreement to end hostilities on the Western Front. Sadly, Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae never lived to see the end of the war that killed his friend and inspired him to write his famous poem. He died on January 28th, 1918 of pneumonia.

Chez Moi

According to multiple sources, I live on the prettiest street in Brussels. After snapping a few photos of our little tree-lined avenue yesterday, as well as some shots from the back balcony, I'm starting to think my sources might be right.

Salad Surprise

I once found bugs in a head of lettuce I had purchased at a Parisian grocery store. As I started to tear apart the lettuce so it could be washed, there they were – tiny black crawling things that made me shriek and throw the leafy greens to the floor. “What are bugs doing in my lunch?!” I later learned from a Frenchman that bugs in the lettuce was a good sign. It meant the produce was high quality, since the bugs only like the best. I didn’t buy that, and from then on I scrupulously checked every single head of French lettuce for any sign of insect life before buying that either. All purchases were triple washed before consumption.

Belgium brought its own lettuce discovery, though, thankfully, this one did not include living creatures. After eying a beautiful looking head that seemed to be a perfect fit for the warm goat cheese salad I had in mind, I was surprised to discover it still had roots. It also still had soil. In fact, a perfectly square chunk of earth had been cut out of the ground along with the head of lettuce and put into a bag, ready to be sold as is. I have no idea what that’s all about, but the lettuce did indeed make a lovely base for what became a crave-worthy salade au chèvre chaud, sans dirt.

Move Blues

Moving overseas sucks. There, I said it. I know, I know, that is definitely not the impression you get from reading any one of the many blogs or articles that espouse the virtues of life lived abroad. The way we all talk you’d think it was nothing but rainbows and butterflies from sun-up to sundown over here. Moving overseas gives you enriching cultural discoveries, a chance at fulfilling self-discovery, and excitement and adventure at every turn! What a load of crap. Sometimes, it just plain sucks, with a large part of the suckiness coming from the frustration of trying to accomplish seemingly simple tasks in a culture/societal structure/system/language you’re unfamiliar with.

Take buying public transportation tickets in Belgium, for example. Unless you have a Belgian bank card, the only way to get tickets out of the machines or from the drivers is with coins. First of all, a system that only accepts Belgian cards in a city that is home to people from all EU and NATO countries is utterly ridiculous. But secondly, if you don’t know right away that you have to hoard your change like Uncle Scrooge just to get around this place, you will at some point find yourself stranded.

Like the woman on the bus the other morning who was trying to get to the airport. She only had a 50 euro bill. As she stood pleading with the bus driver in broken English, almost in tears, with no one helping her, all of my own frustrations from the past month rose to the surface. I approached the driver who proceeded to rant at me about her needing correct change. In an annoyed, but calm, tone I replied, “Je l’ai,” “I have it,” plopped down four euros in coins, gave the bus driver my best evil eye, gave the girl a look that I think said “It sucks, but we’ll live,” and turned around to the stares of an entire busload of groggy morning commuters. It was a small victory, and it felt good.

My own frustrations about moving to Belgium have largely centered on trying to get Internet access. One month in and I still don’t have it at home, despite giving constant effort to the pursuit. It’s a long story, but all you need to know is that trying to get Internet in Brussels has resulted in paying for a year when I only need six months, a modem lost in the mail, a land line that no longer works, and phone calls in vain (and in French, Dutch AND English) to the local company’s technical team.

Ok, so obviously I was a bit harsh at the beginning; moving overseas doesn’t actually suck. I love it, others love it, and I wouldn’t give up the experience for anything in the world, especially not Internet access. Moving overseas does give you enriching cultural discoveries, a chance at fulfilling self-discovery, and excitement and adventure at every turn, but sometimes the whole runaround that inevitably accompanies such a move just makes you want to crawl under the covers and never come back out. Sometimes, you just want things to be easy again. Moving overseas is not all rainbows and butterflies, and it doesn’t always have a four euro solution.

Manneken Pis Day

You've probably heard of Brussels' Manneken Pis, or "Little Man Urinating," statue. He's the miniature boy who's not ashamed to do his business on a perch in the corner of a quaint Belgian street. But did you know that he has costumes? Yes, costumes. The Bruxellois love their peeing statue so much that they've bestowed upon him a wardrobe whose options outshine my own. Manneken Pis has an outfit for every occasion: a red Santa Claus suit and hat for Christmas, country-specific clothing to celebrate national holidays, and a white, bejeweled getup to honor Elvis Presley's birthday. There's even a website that maintains a photo gallery of his costumes, including a calendar of the days he can be expected to be wearing them.

I recently paid a visit to the world's most famous peeing boy and happily discovered he had gotten dressed up for the occasion. In fact, the crowd of beer-drinking, instrument-playing and anthem-singing Belgians who stood around him had also gotten dressed up. What's more, they were all wearing identical (full-sized) versions of his red and blue cape/hat ensemble. I didn't completely understand what I had stumbled across until I spotted a menu chalkboard declaring it to be Manneken Pis Day. I knew they gave him costumes, but I had no idea they also gave him his own day. That's one luckly little statue.

Come Thirsty

Just in case I had forgotten that I now live in the Land of Beer, Brussels was nice enough to hold its 11th annual beer festival last weekend. For three days, over 40 Belgian breweries poured dozens of their finest pils, amber, lambiek and trappist creations, right in the middle of the city's famous Grande Place. The tents and tables were already bursting at the seams with merry revelers when we passed through the square at noon. A few short hours later and you could barely walk from one end to the other without getting bowled over by the crowd. Musicians entertained the drinkers, vendors sold food to the hungry, and just in case you had forgotten how beer is made, the Belgians were nice enough to post this informative reminder.

The Best Frites in Brussels

As the story goes, French fries aren’t really French, they’re Belgian. Accounts differ on where and when fried slices of potatoes first entered the human diet, but since the French themselves think of fries and Belgian, and since fries are undoubtedly the country’s national snack, I’m happy to give this one to les Belges. Friteries (take-away French fry stands) are everywhere in Brussels, but most people will tell you that the city’s best frites (the French word for "fries") are at Maison Antoine. In the name of travel research, and because I have a weakness for anything fried and salty, I decided to see for myself what everyone was raving about.

Maison Antoine is located in the middle of Place Jourdan, a small square surrounded by bars and restaurants that is just east of the city center. The first thing you notice when you arrive is the line. Be prepared: at night, it’s not unusual to have to wait in line for 20-30 minutes for your chance to order a petites or grandes frites. But don’t let that stop you; the wait is more than worth it. Part of the reason why Maison Antoine’s fries are so good is that they’re double-cooked. First the fries are blanched at a low temperature. This ensures that the inside of the thick-cut potatoes will be soft and cooked all the way through. Then, when you place your order, they're deep fried at a high temperature which gives them a crispy, golden-brown exterior. Add just a dash of salt, dip them in one of Maison Antoine’s fry sauces (I recommend “curry”), and eat what I think truly are the best fries you’ll ever had.

Of course, nothing washes down a cone of salty fries quite like a glass of cold beer, but don’t worry about having to plan ahead to BYOB. Some of the bars that surround Place Jourdan know a lucrative combination when they see one, declaring themselves “partenaires,” or partners, of Maison Antoine. This means you’re welcome to bring your fries into the bar, order a delicious Belgian beer, and enjoy the two together. It doesn’t get much better than that.

Brussels in a Notebook

Fellow blogger, Nomadic Matt, recently blogged about his need to keep better notes while on the road. I sympathize with his situation having had many a frustrating moment trying to remember some important detail - an address, the name of a favorite restaurant - last year in Paris. Getting ready to head to Brussels, I was vowing to do a better job this time around when another fellow blogger came to the rescue: The Cupcake Avenger gifted me my very first Molskine City Notebook.

Now, it's possible that before receiving a Moleskine City Notebook all wrapped up in a pretty little birthday bag, I was the only traveler in existence who didn't really know what a Moleskine City Notebook was. Basically, it's a guide book that you make yourself as you go along exploring and living in a specific city. There are some street maps and a metro guide in the front of my Brussels edition, but the rest is up to me. They give you sections for writing down favorite shops, eateries, encounters and museums. There is a little expandable pouch in the back for stashing away business cards, ticket stubs and newspaper clippings. There are blank pages for your notes, and tracing papers for, well, whatever you might need tracing papers for. I recently used my Moleskine to jot down the address of a fromagerie that recently won my heart with an amazing crottin de chèvre.

Having only used Moleskin for a few short days, I already don't know how I ever traveled without one. Isn't it fun how there's always a new travel toy to discover and play with on your next trip? If you know you're going to be in a certain city for an extended period of time, think about picking up your own City Notebook. They makes guides for locales all over the globe, from Amsterdam to Zurich. When you're done, you'll have the perfect, useful souvenir in your possession. And you'll never again forget the name of a favorite fromagerie.