PHO !

PHÔ PHÔ is Belgium’s first Phô Bar – Phô (pronounced "fa" "far" or "fuh" depending on where you are) being the national dish of Vietnam, a big bowl of tasty clear broth containing rice noodles, beef or chicken, herbs and vegetables.  It is cheap as chips – in Vietnam, anyway – and very filling.  The Vietnamese eat it at any time of day or night and it is served in tiny restaurants or on the street, with a spoon for the broth and chopsticks for the food.  It was voted one of the world's 50 most delicious foods by CNN Travel website.

Phô Phô opened their first Phô bar on Rue de la Paix at St Boniface, followed by a second on Boulevard du Jardin Botanique, at Rogier.  This is some kind of justice for Antwerp having the only branch of Wagamama in Belgium.

“Phô Phô” bars are modern, stylish and designed for those on the move.  You order and pay at the counter, and choose a seat at a table or one of the high counters.  Your food is brought to you on a tray, and when you’ve finished you stash it in one of those racks like they have in cafeterias.  It’s not fine dining, but it’s not supposed to be.   While you eat you can watch video clips about Vietnam.  During my lunch I was transfixed by “Anh Do does Vietnam” with the sound turned down, which was just as well, as Anh Do has a broad Australian accent.   I look forward to watching Apocalypse Now (The Director’s Cut) on my next visit.

Ha Long Bay, near Hanoi

A medium bowl of Phô – chicken, beef or vegetarian – costs 7 euros, and a large bowl 11 euros.  For a normal appetite a medium bowl is ample.  You can take the Phô + dessert + drink combo for 10 euros or Starter + Phô + drink for 12 euros.  The waitress will bring you spicy sauce if you want it, and all Pho are served with a little side plate containing raw bean sprouts, chervil, a quarter of a lime and a sliver of hot chilli.  The broth is clear but incredibly tasty, having simmered for hours, and contains no fat so is ideal for those on a diet.

If you don’t fancy Phô, you can have Saigon soup, or tasty starters such as cold spring rolls, hot nems (fried spring rolls) or dim sum for a few euros.  Desserts are simple and there are only about four to choose from.   A number of Vietnamese people were eating there when I went, which was encouraging.   7 euros is probably a bit steep for what it is – in certain parts of Paris you can eat Phô for 5 euros or less, and in Saigon you'll pay about 40 pence!  – but you're paying a small premium for novelty in Belgium.    A healthy, tasty and filling lunch for the cost of a lunch voucher.  

If you are on an Atkins diet, eat Phô every day, it's got no fat, loads of protein and will fill you up.  The bad news is, loads of salt, but you can't have it all ways.

Phô Phô isn't the only place that offers Phô, but it is the only restaurant that only does soup as a street food concept.  You can even get it delivered if you sign up to Take Eat Easy delivery service.There are a number of Vietnamese and Viet-Thai restaurants in Brussels where Phô is often a staple on the lunchtime menu but a more solid and sophisticated menu is also available.  

PHÔ PHÔ

Boulevard du Jardin Botanique 6 (Rogier, St Josse)

Rue de la Paix 27 (St Boniface/Matonge, Ixelles)

KIM VIET THAI
Rue des Malines
(near Rogier)
only open lunchtimes Monday to Friday, but best Phô in Brussels 

HONG HOA
Rue du Pont de la Carpe  (St Géry) 
Tel:  02 502 87 14
 
VIETNAM EXPRESS
rue de la Paix 14, Ixelles
Tel: 02 511 19 23

LA BAIE D'HALONG
Rue Stévin 180, Schuman area
Tel:  02 734 54 38

MELI MELY
Chaussée de Louvain 523 (Meiser)
Schaerbeek
Tel:  02 726 21 31

LE VIETNAM
Rue des Eperonniers 49 (near Grand'Place)
Tel:  02 512 31 68 

POUSSIERES D'ETOILES
Chaussee de Boondael 437 (ULB)
Tel:  640 71 58

L'ORCHIDEE BLANC

Chaussee de Boondael 436 (ULB)

Tel:  647 56 21

AUX QUATRE SAISONS

Rue Melsens 18 (Ste Catherine)

Tel:  512 35 60

INDOCHINE

Rue Lesbroussart 58 (Flagey/Louise)

Tel:  649 96 15

LITTLE ASIA

Rue Sainte Catherine 8b

Tel:  02 502 88 36

With Phô at 12 or 15 euros I'd go for a more sophisticated dish, this is a high end restaurant with the advantage of having a renowned lady chef, Quyen, author of two best-selling cookbooks, who gives lessons in Vietnamese cuisine.  

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And just to turn the tables, so to speak, if you find yourself in Hanoi with an insatiable longing for carbonnades flamandes and a Duvel, try this:

LE PETIT BRUXELLES

1 Au Trieu, Hoan Kiem, Hanoi 

Tel:  04-39381769

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

IN THE MELTING POT

I’m normally a shocking slattern on a weekend, but last Sunday I dragged a comb through my luscious auburn tresses, threw on an old Armani peignoir, and schlepped out to St Gilles for brunch at Britxos, the recently opened outlet of catering supremos La Britannique, with the editor, who presumably wanted to offer me a pay rise.

I wouldn’t say it’s in a prime location - a bit off the beaten track to tell the truth.  However, it did afford me the opportunity to see that bit of St Gilles just past Ixelles, which is an up and coming area with a lot to offer - Art Deco houses, including the Horta museum, walking distance from the trendy Rue du Bailli, and a mere 15 minutes by tram from Mérode.  So you could kick off an afternoon’s cultural learnings with a visit to the market followed by a copious brunch at Britxos, which styles itself as a café-deli, serving breakfast, lunch, afternoon tea, cocktails and snacks to eat in or take out.  The menu changes weekly, so it’s worth checking out their website to see if the weekend brunch is going to be Asian, English, Irish, Mexican, or something else.  The nice people at Britxos are open to suggestions, if you’d like to surprise a visiting Albanian delegation (for example) with a taste of the old country.

The cocktail list is on the blackboard above the bar and I sipped a Bloody Mary whilst perusing the top shelf of drinks which boasted some impressive beverages - top hole gins The Botanist and Hendrick’s (voted best gin in the world), and no less a rum than Nicaragua’s finest Flor de Cana.   I made a mental note to come back at cocktail hour, from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. and try a Glasgow Slag (Irn-Bru and peach liqueur if you must know).

Photo:  Alison Cornford-Matheson

The brunch concept is based on Spanish style tapas, or pintxos as they are called in the Basque country.  British pintxos = Britxos.  Geddit?  Oh suit yourself.  We had the Mexican brunch, which comprises four courses and a bottle of wine for 27 euros.  The entree was a Guadalajara chicken quesadilla, rather like a flattened chorizo, guacamole, potato, onion and cheese pie, drizzled with the chef’s own recipe sweet chutney;  this was followed by Huevos rancheros - two fried eggs with a cold Mexican spicy ratatouille, and tasty jalapeno cornbread.  Then came beer-battered white fish with Mexican sweetcorn salad,  and to finish, vanilla ice cream with Mexican  ganache and a raspberry macaroon.  All washed down with a very pleasant Spanish cabernet sauvignon.  

Photo: Alison Cornford-Matheson

The place only seats 14, plus four seats at the bar - brunch is served in two sittings at 11.30 and 1.30 on weekends, so it’s advisable to phone ahead and book.  If you like improbable multicultural combinations, this is the place for you - a Mexican brunch cooked by a Latvian in a Basque inspired British tapas bar with Spanish wine - Brussels in a nutshell.  The craic was uniquely Brusseleir however - relaxed and friendly, and if you’re on your own, it’s quite likely you’ll end up chatting to your neighbours, as I did to a shy young gentleman from South London who was lunching at the bar.  I was born in Knightbridge moiself, but I will share with you now a little known fact, I was brung up in Sarf London, and it only takes the dulcet tones of the Old Kent Road and a couple of Bloody Marys and my carefully contrived veneer flakes away quicker than Kat Moon’s nail varnish.   By the time we’d finished the four course brunch and were on our second bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, I was singing “Maybe it’s becorze I’m a Londoner” and the place was starting to resemble the Queen Vic on a Sunday lunchtime.  

Your writer doing a Christine Keeler with a couple of British pouffes I found in Britxos
Photo:  Tony Mallett

Needless to say, no pay rise was mentioned.

On second thoughts, perhaps you ought to get your cultural learnings out of the way first before brunching at Britxos.  If you're more interested in the Glasgow Slag than the huevos rancheros, you might prefer to go on a Monday evening when they have live jazz.

Britxos
13 rue de Savoie
1060 St Gilles
Tel:  02 613 48 90
www.facebook.com/britxos
http://www.labritannique.com/contact-britxos

A HILL OF BEANS

The week of the terrible heatwave I was holidaying in the deep south west of France.  It was hot. Fearsome hot.  Around 40 degrees and probably more. The sun would reach full blast just about lunchtime, and so eating out became more of an ordeal than a pleasure.   It was all I could do to lift a lettuce leaf to my parched lips, and made frequent visits to the supermarket just to hang around the chilled food section.  Ideal conditions, you would think, to lose a bit of weight.  But despite profuse "glowing", not an ounce of lard melted from my body. 

My technical adviser and I flew down to Toulouse and spent a night there before following the canal south.  The place to go in Toulouse is the Place du Capitole, where the magnificent Capitole palace, seat of the regional Prefecture, dominates a vast square bordered with arcades, where cafés and restaurants abound, many of them quite fancy.  Instead of patio heaters they had vaporisers, which pumped out a fine water vapour every minute or so to cool down the punters.  It was so hot I didn't even care about my hair frizzing, and hoped to be mistaken for a retired Black Panther with a melanin deficiency.  Pizza Marzano, for those of you who don't know, is the continental name of Pizza Express.  And Pizza Express, for those of you who don't know, make the best pizzas in the UK.  Our waiter was a most agreeable young man who turned out to be English, not that you'd know when he spoke faultless French.  I knew this part of France was overrun by Brits, but was not expecting to be served food by one.  Oliver (for it was he) had mastered that very French trick of being efficient and still finding time to chat.   Our pizzas were delicious, especially washed down with two bottles of rosé (well it was a hot night).  Probably not the cheapest pizza in France, but a very pleasant evening nonetheless. 

The cassoulet is the typical dish of the southwest.  Like every other dish in France, ownership of the "genuine" cassoulet is jealously fought over by neighbouring towns.   Toulouse, Carcassonne and Castelnaudary dispute the recipe, but Castelnaudary has won the right to call itself  "world capital of cassoulet".  The dish informs the whole social calendar, and Castelnaudary's annual cassoulet festival was being held that same week, including such events as bean-throwing, and probably a cassoulet-eating contest, organised by the Confrérie du Cassoulet, who dress up in robes and silly hats for their official dinners, and have long confabulations about what constitutes a genuine Castelnaudary "lingot", or haricot bean, which is the only type allowed to be used in a Castelnaudary cassoulet.  There is even a syndicate of bean growers, comprising about 40 local growers, to defend the provenance of the legume.  They certainly have their finger on the pulse. 

The Grand Master of the Confrérie du Cassoulet de Castelnaudary

 
 
French provincial food festivals are nutty affairs, as readers of Peter Mayle will know, usually involving the Mayor, funny hats, a number of dogs on the loose going potty, and - always - a brass band.  In Castel they had a mini marathon, and at 9 p.m., with the temperature still at 30+ degrees, we watched the runners come gliding in, not a bead of sweat on them.  The townspeople cheered each runner, and gave especially big cheers for those who ran in groups, like the firemen or the policemen.  We sat at a nearby bar, next to a giant tattooed man who looked like an escaped murderer.  It turned out he had done 16 years in the French Foreign Legion, so my first guess might not have been far from the truth.  I couldn't understand a word he said.  He couldn't understand a word I said.  My technical advisor had to interpret.  The man had a beautiful Golden Labrador who smiled encouragingly at all the runners, and seemed to be on the lookout for Peter Mayle.  The scary man told us how he'd rescued him from abusive owners, and that the dog even slept with him.  Nice to see that even a hard case like that can be redeemed by the love of a good Labrador.

 The Mayor and a couple of other official looking types stood in a row and dished out the prizes, while a bloke with a microphone kept up a nonstop stream of overexcited patter.  The main events would be taking place at the weekend, after our departure, and I made a mental note to return the next year to see the parade of the Confrérie in their robes, throw some beans, and cop some free grub. 

However, there was one thing that remained to be done.  Someone had to try a cassoulet.   In Carcassonne, where it was nudging 40 degrees at lunchtime, we steered clear of the tempting shady terraces under the enormous fig trees trees between the inner and outer walls of the citadel, and headed for "La Divine Comédie" on boulevard Jean Jaurès, technically a pizzeria but we had inside information that the chef made the best cassoulet in town.  The genial Didier emerged sweating from his kitchen to greet us.  I just could not face a cassoulet, and ordered the salade méridionale, but my technical advisor made the ultimate sacrifice.

La Divine Comédie, Carcassonne

It looked easily enough for two people, with a duck leg perched on top of a big terracotta bowl of haricot beans, duck and a gigantic Toulouse sausage.  My salad on the other hand looked like a summer dress, with big slices of Cavaillon melon, mozzarella balls and slices of duck magret sitting atop a mound of fresh salad.    "Good luck old chap," I saluted him, as he looked slightly warily at the giant steaming dish of cowboy food.  But he set to it, taking his cue from Mo Farah - slowly at first, spooning a little onto his plate at a time, chugging steadily through it, and picking up speed at the end, to show a clean plate. As he crossed the line, he raised his spoon and fork in the air triumphantly and was awarded the gold medal for cassoulet eating in very hot weather.  

My salad had been an elegant sufficiency for me, but I still ordered an ice cream, just to cool me down, you understand.  

Of course on my return to Brussels, where the weather was less than half the temperature - 15 degrees and drizzling - the urge for a cassoulet overcame me, and I had to research where to find one.  There appear to be five recommended restaurants specializing in the cuisine of south-west France.  I cannot vouch for the provenance of the beans, but here goes:

 

Au Coin des Artistes

5 rue du Couloir

1050 Bruxelles

Near Flagey

Tel: 02.647.34.32

http://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g188644-d2315660-r126250546-Le_Coin_des_Artistes-Brussels.html

La Grenouille Bleue

97, rue des Alexiens
1000 Bruxelles

Tél : +32 (0)2 514 00 05

www.la-grenouille-bleue.be

Le Saint-Boniface

Rue Saint-Boniface 9

1050 Ixelles

Tel:  02 511 5366

www.saintboniface.be

Domaine de Lintillac

Rue de Flandre 25

1000 Brussels

Tel:  02 511 5123

Closed Mondays

http://sitebe.resto.com/d/domainedelintillac

Le Domaine de Chavagnac

Place du Beguinage 6

1000 Brussels

Tel: 02 223 3340

http://www.ledomainedechavagnac.fr/

And if you're ever in Toulouse or Carca:

Pizza Marzano
Place du Capitole
Toulouse

La Divine Comedie
Boulevard Jean Jaures
Carcassonne
Tel:  +33 (0)4 68 72 30 36
Closed Sunday