Herbes de Thanksgiving

A blog entry from earlier this month suggested using Herbes de Provence as a seasoning for your Thanksgiving turkey.  This Thursday I followed my own advice and turned our holiday turkey into a French-inspired main dish accompanied by the very American sides of stuffing, cranberries, and pumpkin pie.  All of the above turned out quite well, and the Herbes de Provence made for a pretty and tasty turkey.

5 Uses for Herbes de Provence

Herbes de Provence - that aromatic mixture of thyme, fennel, savory, basil, rosemary (and often others) - is a powerhouse in my kitchen.  This sunny seasoning compliments so many dishes and conjures up so many memories of the times I spent in the South of France that I make sure to always have an ample supply on hand.  You should too.  Here are five of my favorite uses for Herbes de Provence:

1.  Pizza Seasoning
I like to make my own pizzas using just-add-water crust, canned tomato sauce, shredded mozzarella and cheddar, and a rotating combination of toppings.  I sprinkle a generous amount of Herbes de Provence in the sauce to take the flavor up a notch.

2.  Roasted Potatoes
The cooler weather has me craving hearty foods like thick soups, red meat, and potatoes.  Especially potatoes.  Chop Golden Russets into medium-sized cubes, douse in olive oil, mix with Herbes de Provence,  bake at 425 Fahrenheit for 30 minutes and get ready for some serious comfort food.

3. Household Decorations
You want to eat Herbes de Provence, but you should also think about decorating with them. Make your kitchen Provençal by putting the herbs into little glass spice jars and using them to decorate open shelves or a window sill.  Spread them around trinkets on a decorative plate, or pour them into small, clear vases for a rustic touch.

4. Salad Dressing
Whisk together extra virgin olive oil, freshly squeezed lemon juice, and Herbes de Provence. Add lettuce. 

5. Thanksgiving Turkey
It sounds gross and it feels gross, but lifting up the skin of an uncooked Turkey so you can stuff that space with butter and Herbes de Provence is a good idea.  Pop in into the oven, et voilà!  Thanksgiving with a French flair.

Cupcakes à la Citrouille

One of the best things about not living overseas is getting to fully celebrate uniquely American holidays.  Thanksgiving, Independence Day, and Halloween (celebrated elsewhere, yes, but we really do it up) are all more fun for me when I'm in the U.S.  Last year this time I was in Brussels, so this year I'm especially interested in making the most of the autumn holiday season.  One way to do that?  Bake pumpkin cupcakes.

I got my pumpkin cupcake recipe from a British cookbook that was written by a man who took multiple trips to the U.S., fell in love with our desserts, and decided to open a bakery in London that specializes in American goodies like pecan pie, brownies, and cupcakes.  He named his store The Hummingbird Bakery, and there are now multiple locations around the city.  I picked up his cookbook, The Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook, while on an October 2009 visit to London.  It's a true homage to all sweet things American, and it uses cute British phrases like "bicarbonate of soda," and "tinned pumpkin purée."

The cupcakes were a success.  My friend (the fabulous cupcake blogger) and I worried they would be too moist, and we broke an electric mixer while trying to make the cream cheese frosting, but in the end they turned out delicious and adorable and were quickly gobbled up by co-workers when I brought a batch into the office the following day.  If you'd like to try them yourself (and if you're an American you'll probably eat anything that's pumpkin flavored this time of year), I found the recipe blessedly converted into U.S. measurements on tastebook.com.  Enjoy!

How to Make Gratin Dauphinois

Thursday was the perfect day for making and eating Gratin Dauphinois: Rainy, cold, miserable.  On days like that, when all you want to do is stay under the covers reading a good book, few things are as comforting as a warm bowl of cheesy, creamy potatoes.

Gratin Dauphinois is a French specialty that originated in the southern part of the French Alps.  I've read conflicting things about the area of its origin, but what I can cobble together is that it used to be known as the Dauphine region (Grenoble was its main city), and is now roughly encompassed by the departments of Hautes-Alpes, Isère, and Drôme.   The dish is a frequent accompaniment to meats, and you might see it offered as a side with the plat du jour next time you're in France.  In fact, the best gratin I ever had was served alongside a half roast chicken at an otherwise unremarkable brasserie in Burgundy.  I like my homemade version as well, which I've adapted from the cookbook At Home with the French Classics.

The good news is that Gratin Dauphinois is easy to make and sinfully delicious.  The bad news is that this dish doesn’t do well as leftovers.  I’ve found that reheating makes the potatoes too mushy and turns the cream into an unrecognizable oily substance.  Beurk.  But the other good news is that Gratin Dauphinois is so sinfully delicious you won’t have to worry about leftovers.

To make your own Gratin Dauphinois you'll need:
4 pounds large potatoes (about 8), cut into 1/8-inch-thick slices
1 garlic clove, chopped
1 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1 cup milk
1 cup heavy cream
Grated cheese to sprinkle on top.  The cookbook recommends Gruyère or Emmenthaler.  I've had luck with Parmesan.

1.  Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.  Butter a large baking dish.
2.  Layer the sliced potatoes in the baking dish and sprinkle with the garlic, salt, and pepper.
3.  In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the milk and cream and bring to a boil.  Pour over the layered potatoes.
4.  Sprinkle grated Parmesan on top.
5.  Bake in the middle of the over until the potatoes are brown and tender, 35 to 40 minutes.

The New York Baguette Search: Results

I had high hopes for my New York City baguette search.  Armed with Internet research and recommendations from seasoned New Yorkers I hoped to test a solid half-dozen or so loaves in an attempt to find an acceptable stateside version of France's daily bread.  But as so often happens when I move to a new city, I thought I had all the time in the world to explore everything, only to remember, much too late, that time flies.  Especially when you’re having fun.  Before I knew it, moving had begun and my exploring had come to an end.  I did, however, manage to sneak in a taste-test of two baguettes.

Baguette # 1 - The Greenmarket Baguette

Who says France has all the best outdoor markets?  New York City’s Greenmarket organization has put together an impressive multi-borough schedule of farm fresh produce, humanely-raised meat, and all manner of locally-sourced/crafted/raised products.  The best Greenmarket of all is at Union Square, where the Saturday morning selection (and crowd) is impressive.  One stand promised “French-style baguettes,” so I swung by to make a purchase. But the minute I felt that dense-yet-soft stick of bread I knew they were imposters.  Sure enough, a tasting back at home revealed a total lack of flavor, an overly chewy interior, and absolutely none of that satisfying crunch you find with a true French baguette.  I didn’t eat more than a couple of bites before tossing this faux French bread into the trash where it belonged.  Beurk!


Baguette #2 - The Murray's Cheese Shop Baguette

Murray’s Cheese Shop is a swanky fromagerie located in the heart of the West Village.  I headed over there after work one evening with a mad craving for a simple dinner of charcuterie and cheese on a baguette.  It didn’t disappoint: The salami and Cremeux de Bourgogne were expensive but delicious.  The baguette?  It was good.  Not airy-and-light good, but rather airy-and-heavy (yes, that’s possible) good.  In fact, I wouldn’t call this “baguette” a baguette at all. It’s more like a “tradition,” which is one of the many varieties of long sticks of bread one finds in a French boulangerie.  A “ficelle” is another example.  When I lived in Paris I used to order “une tradi” on a regular basis to go with dinner, so I enjoyed sampling a version of this bread in New York City.  But I wasn’t able to find a true French baguette in the Big Apple.  Any suggestions for next time?

If you go:

Union Square Greenmarket
Runs Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday
Union Square West, New York City
Subway: Union Square 14th Street

Murray’s Cheese
254 Bleecker St., second location at 43rd and Lexington
Blissfully un-French in that it's open seven days a week!

Pommes Frites

I recently blogged about Belgian waffles.  Today I'm blogging about Belgian fried potatoes, otherwise known as pommes frites and/or a Flemish name I can't remember.  More specifically, it's about a tiny take-out joint in New York City called Pommes Frites that sells nothing but pommes frites.  In short, heaven.

Or so I thought.

First, a little background:  Six months of living in Brussels taught me that Belgian food (and drink) is good.  The waffles!  The chocolate!  The beer!  But for my money the best of all were the frites.  The hot, crispy, served-in-a-cone, dipped-in-a-sauce frites.  I've always been a fan of salty food, especially fries, and the Belgians take this delicious treat to a whole new level.  I went to Brussels' famous Maison Antoine more times than I care to admit.

Needless to say, I was beyond excited to try New York City's own frites shop, conveniently located one block from my former apartment.  I ordered a regular sized cone with ketchup and Irish curry sauce for dipping, and tucked in for what I hoped would be a delicious afternoon snack.  Instead, I got "blah."  The frites didn't taste Belgian at all.  They were too dense, too large, and not nearly crispy enough.  I would call them "steak fries," which can be tasty, but are most definitely not what you find at a Belgian friterie. 

Three months of living in New York City taught me that Belgian food abroad is hit and miss.

Belgian Food Truck: Wafels & Dinges

It's been tempting me for weeks: That bright, canary yellow food truck promising "Good Things Belgian" and appearing in places around the city where I'm sure to get a whiff of its wares. I had to try it before leaving New York, so when a quick Thursday call to their Waffle Hotline told me the truck was in the environs of my office building (Midtown) and that if I gave the truck operators the stink eye I could get a discount on my order, I made a beeline for Wafels & Dinges. Or, in English, Waffles & Thingamajigs.

Torn between the "brussels wafel" (light and crispy) and the "liège wafel" (soft and chewy) I opted instead for the special "throwdown wafel." A winner from the Food Network's "Throwdown with Bobby Flay," the throwdown wafel is a liège topped with speculoos spread and whipped cream.  Merci beaucoup.  With my $1 stink eye discount, that tray of sweet Belgian deliciousness was mine for only $5. And, sorry Belgium, it was better than any waffle I ever ate in Brussels.

If you go:

Wafel & Dinges
Everywhere, New York City
Truck Location Hotline: 1-866-429-7329
Twitter: @waffletruck

NYC French Resto Review: A.O.C

According to this restaurant's menu, A.O.C stands for "l'Aile ou la cuisse" (The wing or the thigh).  French wine drinkers, Roquefort eaters, and Dijon mustard spreaders, however, will recognize the three initials as meaning "appellation d’origine contrôlée" (controlled designation of origin), which is a certification handed out by the French government that ensures, among other things, a product's terroir.  Details.  All you really need to know is that if you ever find yourself hungry in the West Village you should eat at A.O.C.

Hungry and in the West Village is exactly where a DC-based friend and I found ourselves yesterday afternoon.  The menu looked good and the prices looked reasonable, so we decided to give this corner bistro a try.  We opted to sit in their garden patio out back, which was a excellent decision considering NYC weather has finally gone from miserably hot to pleasantly summer.  I ordered the merguez frites for $13.50 and she had the soupe du jour and 1/2 sandwich for $11.50.  Both meals were delicious, not to mention excellent values considering the amount of food we received for what we paid in an expensive part of town.

A.O.C's interior looks like it was flown in from Paris, while the garden patio lets you soak in this beautiful New York City neighborhood.  Other menu items that I wanted to try were the demi poulet, the salade de chèvre chaud, and the croque monsieur.  And while A.O.C offers many of the French classics - coq au vin, and entrecôte, par exemple - not to mention American favorites like les burgers, they unfortunately don't prepare my favorite French dish: boeuf bourgiugnon.  Nevertheless, a stellar find in one of my favorite areas of the city.  I'll be back. 

The New York Baguette Search

It's the Holy Grail of French cuisine in the United States: An authentic baguette.  None of this dense, chewy, bland bread they sell in supermarkets or place on your table in restaurants.  I'm talking about a hurt-the-roof-of-your-mouth crunchy on the outside, melt-in-your-mouth airy on the inside, honest to goodness French baguette.  It's a difficult thing to find on this side of the Atlantic, but I'm betting that if they're anywhere, they're in New York City.  Because, really, this city has everything. 

With that in mind, I'm on a mission to find an authentic French baguette in the Big Apple.  My time here is quickly slipping away - only five weeks to go -  so I have to act fast.  If you know of any good places to get authentic French bread in NYC, I'd be happy to hear about it.  In the meantime, I'll be searching Google and the West Village for leads while toting around a jar of Nutella.  Just in case I find a baguette worthy of it. 
To be continued...

Ladurée in Los Angeles

This week, I'm back on the West Coast to celebrate our nation's birthday as well as my own. For the first vacation breakfast we headed downtown to a French restaurant in a section of Los Angeles that is well into a much-needed revival: Bottega Louie. The first thing you notice about Bottega Louie is that it's enormous. The interior has soaring ceilings, kitchens that open onto the dining floor, and multiple seating arrangements, including a full bar, a section of café-style tables, and a formal dining room. The second thing you notice about Bottega Louie is that it feels a lot like like a certain Paris-based Macaron Mecca called Ladurée.

Like Ladurée, Bottega Louie makes and sells a range of colorful macarons that are packaged in pastel colored boxes created to induce delighted oohs and aahs when revealed to the lucky participants of whatever dinner party, work gathering, or birthday celebration they attend. If macarons aren't your thing (guilty as charged), Bottega Louie also offers a full range of French-inspired tarts, éclairs, breads, beignets, and croissants. I picked up a $6.00 fruit tart with a Tahitian vanilla filling. In my opinion, it's the cream filling that can make or break a tart, and this particular rendition did not disappoint. Bottega Louie's breads and breakfast (we had lemon ricotta pancakes with blueberry syrup and an egg, cheese, and bacon sandwich) all hit the mark.

The main difference between Bottega Louie and Ladurée, other than geography and celebrity, is atmosphere. Bottega Louie is French-inspired in its menu, but American in its atmosphere - it's lively, friendly, and decidedly West Coast-relaxed. In contrast, dining at Ladurée is an exercise in proper Parisian behavior. The dining rooms are quiet, the servers aloof, and the portions minuscule. But they do make a mean pâtisserie.

NYC French Resto Review: Bar Tabac

What do you do when you have an abundance of French restaurants in your neighborhood and a shortage of time in which to try them out?  You start eating, toute de suite.  First stop: Bar Tabac.

I ate at Bar Tabac on the same day I arrived in New York City, and it was restaurant love at first sight.  Located on the corner of Smith and Dean Streets, Tabac is smack dab in the middle of a lively shopping/dining center in Brooklyn’s Cobble Hill neighborhood.  What struck me first about this restaurant is its authentic Frenchness.  From the simple outdoor seating, to the Francophone clientele, to the wood and brick interior, to the charming French accents of the staff, to the fact that they don’t accept Visa or MasterCard, everything will make you feel like you’ve just discovered Paris’ best kept local dining secret.   Except that you're in Brooklyn.  

Bar Tabac's food is typical French bistro fare (steak frites) with some American influences thrown in (Late Night Giant Bar Tabac Burger...I'm not joking).  The first dish I ordered was their "goat cheese on croutons" salad, with a glass of Chenin Blanc to accompany.  The salad portion was definitely French, but so was the freshness and taste, so I couldn’t complain.  I went back to Bar Tabac a few days later to try their brunch, and this time I ate a truly memorable croque monsieur with a side of fries and salade verte.   The bread on the croque was crispy, buttery perfection, and they didn’t skimp on the cheese.  It wasn't diet food, but it went great with the French Open final they were showing on the flat screen.

The best part about Bar Tabac is its welcoming, low-key atmosphere.  The servers are friendly and the clientele is down-to-Earth.  No Parisian snobbery here, just good food and an easy place to relax, either with a friend, or with your fresh-off-the-presses Sunday edition of the New York Times.   Did I mention they have $3.95 mimosas?

Making Gâteau au Chocolat

Flourless chocolate cake. How many among us would turn down a slice of this dense, decadent nearing-perfection dessert? Even if I've just stuffed myself on multiple courses of the most buttery and creamy French food you can imagine, I would still find room for a slice of rich gâteau au chocolat. I used to buy some every now and then at one of my favorite Parisian pâtisseries, savor every last bite, and wash it all down with a (very un-French) glass of cold milk. Bliss.

Not satisfied with simply purchasing already-baked cake, I set out to learn how to make my own gâteau at home. As expected, there are very few ingredients in flourless chocolate cake. It's simply chocolate, butter, sugar, eggs, and, despite its name in English, a wee bit of flour. But while the ingredients are simple, the process is anything but. Many times I've made a cake that didn't quite turn out right, and twice I've flat out ruined it.

The first tale of ruination involved the mistreatment of eggs. I apparently didn't incorporate them well enough into the batter, so the cake came out of the oven with chunks of cooked egg in every slice. An omelette au chocolat, if you you will. The second time I used 100% cocoa dark chocolate, making the cake incredibly bitter. Some palates might like that taste, but to me it was inedible.

If you use the right chocolate, mix the eggs well, and don't over-bake the batter (it should come out of the oven with a little liquidity left in the center), the following recipe will yield you a most delicious treat. You'll be tempted to eat it immediately, but try to resist. Flourless chocolate cake should rest for at least a few hours, overnight if possible. In fact, this cake is actually at its best on approximately day three of its existence. I dare you to make it last that long.


Gâteau au Chocolat

I took this recipe from a French cookbook I had when I lived in Paris. I've converted the amounts in grams and other measurements to their equivalents for an American kitchen, except for the chocolate, bars of which are measured in grams even in the U.S.

200 grams of dark chocolate, preferably 60% cocoa
200 grams of butter (14 tablespoons)
250 grams of sugar (1.1 cups, just do your best to find the .1, I've found it's ok if it's not exact)
5 eggs
1 cuillere à soupe of flour (one tablespoon)

Preheat the over to 190 Celsius (375 Fahrenheit)

Melt the butter and chocolate together in a pot over low heat.
Once the butter and chocolate are melted, remove from heat, mix in the sugar.
Let the mixture cool for about 15 minutes.
Once cool, add the eggs one by one, making sure each has been fully incorporated before adding the next.
Lastly, mix in the flour.
Pour the mixture into a 9 inch round pan that has been buttered and floured.
Bake the cake for 22 minutes, remove from the oven to cool for about 10 minutes, and then flip the cake over onto a serving platter (for best results, hold the platter flat against the top of the cake pan when you do this)
Sprinkle the cake with powdered sugar if desired.
Enjoy!

How to Make Your Kitchen a French Kitchen

One of the things I inevitably miss about France the minute I leave is French food. When I'm home in the United States, I try to stock my kitchen with the tools and ingredients that help me evoke or recreate all the delicious appetizers, main courses, desserts, and snacks I discovered while living in Paris, Cannes, and that tiny little village just outside of St. Tropez.



Looking to bring a little bit of La Belle France into your own cuisine? Here are a few simple items to help get you started:

Cookbooks
I've mentioned on this blog before that I love At Home with the French Classics, by Richard Grausman, and Barefoot in Paris, by Ina Garten. You can also go for the old standby, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and if you want to focus on desserts (and who doesn't?), a quick search of "French dessert cookbook," turned up plenty of options on Amazon.com. I also try to come home with at least one cookbook whenever I go to France. Just watch out for that pesky metric system, which they of course use for their recipes.

A Crêpe Pan
Sure, you can try to make crêpes using a standard, non-stick frying pan, but why? A flat, French crêpe pan, like the one I have from T-Fal, works so much better and looks cool in your kitchen. Once you taste the first crêpe au Nutella that glides so easily onto your plate you'll be sold.

Cast Iron Cookery
If you get any other piece of cookware for your French kitchen after (or before) the crêpe pan, make it a large cast iron pot. Le Creuset is the obvious choice here, but also probably the most expensive. I've seen this brand on sale at stores like Marshall's,and even Macy's, or you could go with a comparable brand like Martha Stewart (what doesn't she make for your kitchen?). A lot of French dishes, such as the famous boeuf bourguignon, call for such cookery, and you can even use it to melt and serve fondue.

Olive Oil
If you're going to engage in French cooking, you're going to need olive oil, plain and simple. I use it for everything from making my own vinaigrette to prepping rice for a risotto. You always hear that quality makes a difference here, and while I agree with that, I've also been very happy with my Whole Foods 365 brand. If you're lucky enough to be traveling through the south of France, try to find a local producer who will ship some back home for you. When I was there, I couldn't get enough of the huile d'olive from Domaine de Souviou. Definitely better than 365.

Herbes de Provence
Another ubiquitous French ingredient. You can add this mix of dried herbs (generally some combination of thyme, rosemary, marjoram, tarragon, basil, lavender, savory, and/or others) to just about anything. It's the perfect seasoning for poultry, fish, salads, and pasta, but my favorite use is as a seasoning in the sauce of my homemade pizzas.

Bottles of French Wine
You'll use these for cooking and for drinking. Need I say more?

A Raclette Grill
This contraption, which features a heat source and little dishes used for melting cheese, will help you throw fabulous French-themed dinner parties. Guests have fun melting their own cheese and pouring it over such accompaniments as cooked potatoes, ham, and small pickles, and all you have to do is plug it in.

What would you add to this list of French kitchen necessities?

The Best of France in Washington, D.C.

If you're a Francophile like me, you probably seek out French things - restaurants, shops, activities - wherever you go. For example, the L.A. Farmer's Market is a feast for anyone's eyes, but my Francophile eyes were especially drawn to a shop called Monsieur Marcel, which carried all manner of French-themed goodies. I couldn't resist a visit to the cheese counter or the olive barrels, happily passing up the Korean BBQ stand and the old fashioned ice cream shop for yet another French fix.

Back in the nation's capital, I'm still looking to get that French fix on a regular basis. Luckily, Washington City Paper is here to help. This free, all-about-D.C. weekly just came out with its Best of D.C. 2010 issue, which is chock full of the eateries, activities, and personalities that make The District grand...including those that are French, French-themed, and yes, Belgian. Winners (which, not surprisingly, are all food and drink related) are as follows:


Best European Restaurant
Winner: Bistrot du Coin - The see-and-be-seen French restaurant in Dupont Circle.
Runners-up: Belga Cafe and Brasserie Beck - Both Belgian!

Best Macaron
Winner: Patisserie Poupon - Located in Georgetown, a chic neighborhood where you're more likely to bump into a Parisian than an American.

Best Cheese Plate
Winner: Cheesetique - Enjoy your Roquefort on their patio!

Best Wine List
Winner: Michel Richard Citronelle - Your credit limit will not get out of here alive.

Best Wine by the Glass
Tallula - Just enough French selections to make me happy.

Best Mussels
Winner: Granville Moore's - Another Belgian. I've never been, and I don't like mussels.
Runners-up: Brasserie Beck and Bistro du Coin - Belgian and French, respectively

Best Place for Beer and Frites
Winner: Brasserie Beck - You knew a Belgian would win this one, but they can't possibly be better than Maison Antoine in Brussels.

2010 World Championship Cheese Contest

The natural follow-up to Friday's post about wine would be a post about cheese. And we're in luck! The 2010 World Championship Cheese Contest was held last week in Madison, Wisconsin. Let's discuss.

You might think that the natural winner of such a contest would perhaps be a cheese of the French persuasion. After all, it is often said that the French have a different cheese for every day of the year, and anyone who has tasted the wares of a Parisian fromagerie knows that of these 365 varieties roughly 365 of them are delicious. However, it was the Swiss who took home this year's top prize (and second prize, as well), with Cedric Vuille from La Brevine, Switzerland winning for his Gruyère. NPR ran a story about the championship, so if you'd like to hear why the judges choose this particular cheese (hint: good body, good flavor notes...and low turnout from the French and Italians), this link will take you there: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=124913031

Note: the radio story gives a different name for the winning cheese maker than the World Championship website.

Gruyère is indeed a delectable variety of cheese. I love to munch on it during l'apéritif and to use it as an accompaniment to Appenzeller in my fondue. But is it my favorite cheese? Probably not, but then again, I don't exactly like to play favorites with fromage. I love creamy, mild cow's milk cheese spread on a baguette, melted goat cheese with honey in a salad, and salty sheep's milk cheese for a light snack.

French, Swiss, or otherwise, do you have a favorite cheese?

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.

How to Make Fondue

What do you picture when you think of cheese fondue? My sister used to imagine it was like a bowl of warmed-up Velveeta: slightly orangey in color, a bit bland, and with the same consistency throughout. Then I made a fondue on Christmas Day the way I learned to make it in Paris, using Swiss cheeses, white wine, and a hint of seasoning, which resulted in a thick/liquidy dish with a taste unlike anything her American tongue had experienced before. After exclaiming, "so that's what fondue is supposed to be like!" she helped me polish off the dish in rather short order.

It's not a complicated recipe, and you don't need a refined technique or a special fondue-heating contraption to succeed in making the most delicious fondue you've ever tasted. Just follow these steps:

1. Start with the right ingredients. You need equal parts Appenzeller and Gruyère cheese, white wine (preferably from Switzerland or the Savoie region of France), a teaspoon of chopped garlic, and freshly ground nutmeg to taste. Cut the cheese into small cubes.


2. Heat the garlic and a splash of wine in a deep pot. Ideally you would use a cast iron pot, such as one from Le Creuset, but if you're like me and only have stainless steel pots from Ikea, don't worry. It works fine.

3. Once the wine is simmering, but not boiling, add half of the cheese with a portion of wine. I used 400 grams of cheese in total, so with 200 grams of cheese I added a half a cup of wine. Stir the wine and cheese mixture until the cheese is melted, then add the second portion of cheese plus more wine and stir. Patience is key.

4. Grate fresh nutmeg into the mix until you reach the desired amount for your taste. My feeling is that there's no such thing as too much nutmeg in cheese fondue.


5. Keep stirring and don't remove from the heat the entire time you're eating the fondue. The consistency will be thick, but with some of the wine remaining separate from the cheese providing a sort of liquid bath. You want the mixture to be hot but not burning at the bottom of the pan. Play with the heat and you'll find the right temperature for your pot and stove.

6. Enjoy with cubes of good French bread, roasted potatoes, or steak. We used all three. Oh, and don't forget to drink the rest of the wine while eating your fondue!

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.

Thanksgiving Sneak Attack

And so came and went another Thanksgiving in Europe. The first time I spent Thanksgiving overseas was in 2001. My professor found a restaurant in Cannes that would serve a group of 17 American students turkey and mashed potatoes on what is just another Thursday in France. Next up was 2003 near St. Tropez, without a plate of stuffing in sight. Now it's Brussels 2009, where most of my colleagues are Americans, and where I had no shortage of invitations to join them in downing a full, traditional, over the top meal. It was a very happy Thanksgiving.

I think the strangest holidays to celebrate overseas are the ones that are uniquely American. July 4th and Thanksgiving are the biggies, with Halloween a distant third as it becomes more common abroad. But it's not really the day itself that is strange. That day is fine because you can make it what you want. Need to grill some burgers and hot dogs? There are a lot of places around the world where you can do just that. Need to find a whole turkey? It can be tricky, but you might pull it off. And if you can't get any of the traditional things, well, you can still use non-traditional substitutes and celebrate in spirit.

The real strangeness comes before the big day because there's absolutely no build-up to a holiday like Thanksgiving when you're not in the U.S. No paper turkeys and harvest scenes in store windows, no towers of canned cranberries and gravy mixes in the grocery store, no talk of Black Friday sales. Thanksgiving just magically appears one day and it gone without a trace the next. Did it even really happen? With holidays, as with many things in life, the anticipation is sometimes more exciting than the event itself. So, while there was no Thanksgiving anticipation for me this year, I did get to enjoy some delicious Belgian chocolates with my perfect slice of pumpkin pie. It doesn't make up for what I missed, but it doesn't hurt either.