PURE DAPHNE

 

"I used to be Snow White .... but I drifted."   (Mae West)

I only opened with that quote because someone snorted in derision at the name "Pure Daphne".  How very dare they.    

Rest assured I have not taken holy orders.   Pure Daphne is the name of a new line of frozen croquettes I spotted in my local Delhaize, and of course, in view of the name, had to buy them, photograph them and post them on Facebook.  I was intrigued by the name and Googled it, only to find that the lady behind them is really Daphne Aers, finalist in the 2010 Flemish TV cooking competition  "De Beste Hobbykok van Vlaanderen". equivalent of Masterchef - who used the publicity to launch a line of frozen croquettes and a restaurant in which to eat them, in her home town of Ghent.   

So of course I had to go to Ghent for the photo-opportunity.   The restaurant is situated on Gebroeders Van de Veldestraat just a few minutes' walk from the historic town centre.   Pure Daphne products line the walls of the stylish green and black interior alongside bottles of wine.  I had arranged to meet up with Gantoise Ivana Tramp - who was already resting her impressive embonpoint on the table when I arrived.   Daphne's partner was behind the counter, and told us Daphne would be along shortly, just as soon as they'd got the childcare handover organised.

We ordered a couple of large glasses of rosé wine, while we waited for our croquettes to be cooked.  Typically Belgian croquettes are essentially a sort of deep-fried prawn cocktail.  They are usually served as a starter in more traditional restaurants.   Pure Daphne croquettes ring the changes with different flavours, offering cheese,  lobster, prawn, fish with prawn, or goat's cheese, cooked with a dash of chilli or garlic.  They are served in the restaurant as a kind of tapas, for a light snack rather than a whole meal.  My Delhaize bought croquettes were still sitting in the freezer (or so I thought - little did I know  my lodger had already got there before me) so this was going to be my first taste of Pure Daphne.

  

Ivana Tramp and I went for the "tapas" style plate for 12 euros, offering 6 croquettes in 3 different flavours and an elegant little salad to go with it. I was a little disappointed that the lobster croquette did not contain a big chunk of lobster - I think I was expecting something akin to English-style scampi - but was more like lobster flavoured sauce in a crunchy deep-fried casing. Still, they were fresh, light, and fun. They can also be ordered as a takeaway dish, eaten with bread.  Prices varies according to how many pieces you wanted - roughly working out to 2 euros a croquette. 

The lovely Daphne Aers arrived in due course and we did our photo-op - twee Daphnes.   If you can't get to Ghent to sample the goods hot from the fryer, check out your frozen food section in Delhaize, Carrefour, Spar or OK.   I'm not sure how long a restaurant with basically one dish will last, but it works for fritkots so I don't see why croquettes shouldn't make the jump from tablecloth to street, especially in view of the emphasis on street food at this year's Culinaria.  

Before leaving Ghent, I called in to Ye Olde Mostard Shoppe, Tierenteyn-Verlent, as recommended by Vi Hornblower, where I purchased a small jar of their famed mustard, its recipe unchanged since 1790.  It is runny, with a fruity taste, only lasts 6 months, and BOY IS IT STRONG!   In fact, it would go rather well with Pure Daphne croquettes, I thought.  Of which there were none left when I got home.

Pure Daphne
Gebroeders Van de Veldestraat
9000 Gent

Tierenteyn-Verlent
Groentenmarkt 3
9000 Gent

SUNSHINE ON A PLATE

I blame Masterchef for all the pretentious faffery that restaurants are serving up these days.  It’s all tian this and timbale that, a smear of something dubious on a big white plate alongside two organic blueberries and a spoonful of ice cream – oh pardon me, a quenelle – and suddenly they’re calling themselves Noma and whacking up the prices to astronomic levels that Felix Baumgartner would shake his head at.

Now I like a reduction as much as the next girl, but there are days when you just want to walk down the road and have a simple meal of something uncomplicated, cooked to order by your friendly local restaurateur, which is not going to break the bank.    Meat or fish, prepared in your line of vision, with vegetables du jour, and no espuma or emulsion,  merci beaucoup.  

Plan B is a simple local restaurant serving well-cooked Mediterranean food at lunchtime and evenings.  Owner/Chef Rui hails from Portugal originally but the menu covers all corners of the Med, with a good selection of pasta dishes and some Italian classics, and some excellent Portuguese fish dishes.  I have visited twice recently, and have not been disappointed on either occasion.  He is open throughout August, which is a welcomed by those of us who like to stick around and appreciate the peace and quiet of the holiday season.

The 3-course menu du jour (no menus brought to the table - you choose from the blackboard as in a typical Portuguese auberge) offers a choice of two dishes for each course, for 24 euros, as well as an à la carte menu.  The beef carpaccio was melt-in-the mouth delicious, served on a bed of wilted spinach, drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and covered with a generous serving of parmesan shavings.  The vitello tonnato –wafer-thin slices of veal covered in a mayo and tuna sauce --  can be served as a starter or (in a slightly larger portion) as a main course.  Back in June Rui had a supply of freshly-picked girolle mushrooms which weren’t on the menu board, wokked up in butter with herbs and garlic they made a simple but extremely tasty starter.  The Portuguese-style Morue/bacalao a l'agareiro (grilled salted cod in olive oil) had already run out when we got there - in a small restaurant like this you can't foresee massive quantities - but Rui recommended the Dos de cabillaud a la Biscaia (Basque style cod loin)  and to prove how fresh it was, brought out three massive cod fillets and waved them in our faces.   It was, indeed, delicious, served with new potatoes and Mediterranean vegetables.

The Scotch lamb chops were small but beautifully formed, and served simply grilled with herbs, accompanied by seasonal vegetables and baby new potatoes.  The rosemary-infused sea bass can be served whole (with the head left on if you like) or filleted (recommended) with the same accompaniment.  The addition of locally grown white asparagus to the vegetable mix was a seasonal touch.  It’s Mediterranean cuisine, not Belgian, so chips are not an option, but the baby new potatoes were perfect.   At Plan B the menu doesn't change too often, and can get on with your conversation instead of spending half the evening agonizing over whether to choose the prétension de nimportequoi fumé en branlette torréfiée or the déclinaison de foutaises aux couillons d’hérisson.

When it came to dessert, I was the last man standing, faced with a choice of mousse au chocolat or panna cotta.  I cannot resist a panna cotta and Rui’s is sublime, creamy and unctuous, served with fresh strawberries drizzled with thick dark chocolate and raspberry sauce (my only criticism, IMHO the strawberries would have been better served simply in their own sweetened jus).   A couple of bottles of Touriga Nacional rosé at 17 euros a bottle lubricated the conversation.  The small terrace is a delightful place to eat on a warm day, and when it gets dark candles are lit to create a rather magical atmosphere.   It only seats 8-10 people though, so if you want to eat al fresco, specify when you book.

The vibe is very relaxed, Rui will come and chat between courses, even sit down at your table, and you get the feeling his relationship with his customers comes as much from a genuine liking for people as for purposes of inducing you to return.   Food-wise it’s certainly a case of WYSIWYG* at Plan B.   Rui knows his granita from his gremolata, but has no pretentions to be Ferran Adria.  It’s a good, local, friendly restaurant where you can ring up at 8 p.m. on a Saturday night to book a table for 8.30, and chat to Chef about the food (he’s also your waiter), in that relaxed, informal style we all enjoy so much on our holidays in the south.  Molecular gastronomy it ain’t, but it’s not heavy Belgian winter stodge either.  It is a welcome addition to an area which is saturated with pizzerias and sushi bars.  If you yearn for a taste of the sunny Med on a grey Brussels day, I suggest you revert to Plan B.

    
Plan B, Avenue Georges-Henri 411, Woluwe Saint-Lambert  Tel:  02 732 5456

English spoken – also French, Spanish, Portuguese, & German – sometimes all in the same sentence

* What You See Is What You Get