A coda to the night before…
Bars close fairly early in Brussels on a Sunday, with some closing well before midnight. So, that assumption that Sunday Funday is the same would be wrong. Honestly, it kind of reminded me of the days in Indianapolis when bars closed at midnight on Sundays. It’s a good compact and definitive end to I he weekend.
After leaving Le Baroque, it was after midnight and mass transit closes down around then. Even though it was raining a bit, I walked about the mile up to the hotel, and I was overcome with the idea of getting a Kentucky Fried Chicken sandwich from the store next to the hotel. Probably not the best notion, but it actually was pretty good. Since there is a high concentration of Middle Eastern immigrants, specifically Turkish (more on that in a bit), in Brussels, KFC has decided that they are in the kebab business. It is kind of hilarious because it’s just KFC
Eating that late is not really that great for those of us at this advanced age, but shockingly, I slept well. My appointment for chocolate class was not until 11, and with this being more of a travel and leisure day, I decided to sleep in but make sure I got to go to the included Continental Breakfast. I love breakfast. I love hotel breakfast, and I am fairly easy to please when it comes to breakfast food. However, one step into the European concept of “Continental Breakfast,” and you realize just how much a cheap bastardization most American hotel breakfasts are in comparison.
First off, this was a Doubletree hotel, which in America would be a mid-tier Hilton brand. This one in Brussels, while maybe not five star, is a newly renovated, almost grand hotel. One of the nicest touches was a filtered water dispenser on each floor which gave you options of chilled, still, and two levels of carbonated water. Europe loves bubbles!
Back to breakfast, I walked, into the fairly opulent space (wearing shorts…oops), and I was greeted by freshly made bacon, sausage, eggs three ways (scrambled, hard boiled, and sunny side up), and, of course, Belgian waffles that also had a Nutella and preserves station with tiny ice cream cone cups you could fill up with the deliciousness. All of this was just one side of the breakfast room. On the other side was a variety of fresh breads, the general charcuterie that is typical of this type of breakfast, and yogurt, cereal, and granola. I think I just drooled thinking about it again.
The funny thing of this that in this nice restaurant with amazing food, they were playing a lot of American rap music that was actually fairly raunchy. I don’t know if it was a language barrier thing, but it made me laugh…a lot.
After getting ready, I decided to take the tramway the couple stops I needed to go before crossing through the tourist area to chocolate class. I had only been there for a day, and I felt like a local navigating the ins and outs of mass transit. The best part of travel planning is when it all comes together. I swear it scratches an itch in a certain part of my brain. It is the dopamine I get from planning these excursions.
I arrive at The Belgian Chocolate Makers meet up about 20 minutes early, but I stand across the street for a few minutes hoping I wasn’t the only one scheduled for the class today. About 10 minutes before 11, I walk up to the door, and I am gently reprimanded, in a very French way, that I was too early. I was to wait until 10:55, and then I was welcomed, wristbanded, and sent over to the store next door from some hot chocolate and browsing all the different kinds of chocolate they had available. I must have looked like I was about to buy, because the workers informed me I would get 20% off after the class.
Once the other three people were there, Patricia, the aforementioned French reprimander, gathered us and we took the five minute walk from these store fronts to the place where the class actually took place. We were provided with hairnets, a cubby for our things, and required to wash our hands.
Once that was done, Patricia took us through an explanation of how chocolate is made, and we were allowed to sample everything from the slimy bean directly from the pod (don’t bite into it) to the “liqueur” that is produced from that slimy layer around the bean. We also were able to try everything from 100% chocolate to White chocolate all made in the The Belgian Chocolate Makers’ factory, where they are the only one in Brussels that makes their chocolate from the bean.
Patrica was a stern but lovable presence in the classroom, and from two giant chocolate tempering machines in the front, she showed us how to make chocolate bars, truffles, and other chocolate confections, which we were allowed to decorate and keep.
I did end up buying some milk and dark chocolate chips and two bars of white chocolate for some future cookie baking. I am doing a horrible job at space management in the bags this early in the trip.
The class was around 90 minutes, and after I wandered back through town by Manneken Pis, the famous (infamous) statue of a baby pissing. There was a very large crowd of tourists around it taking pictures. It’s a little weird, to be honest.
The hotel had allowed me a late checkout of 3pm, and it was looking like it was going to rain again. So, I went back to the room to chill out a bit and pack up.
I checked out and left my bag at the hotel, and then I walked toward St. Mary’s Royal Church up on Rue Royale a few blocks (uphill) from the hotel. I walked by gigantic botanic gardens greenhouse that has been turned into an event space, but as I soon found out, the church was closed on Monday. However, it was a beautiful church to see from the outside, and I must see it on a future trip.
Not far from the church was the historic Turkish concentration in Brussels, and I went to the Metin Pide, which was the first Turkish flatbread pizza place to open in Brussels in 1985. There was definitely a language barrier here, but the food was fantastic and plentiful for less that 15 Euro. The neighborhood is predominantly Turkish, and it really felt like I was back in Istanbul, albeit with a lot different foliage.
I then walked back towards the hotel, and it started to rain again. It was pretty gross out. So, I went to a mall near the hotel. Malls in America are dying, but this was a three or four story mall with no vacancies and jam packed on a rainy Monday afternoon. While I can’t say the mall was packed with international chains, it did have everything from grocery stores to an HMV store that had CDs, vinyl, books, and other pop culture items. It felt like I had stepped back into malls from the early 1990s. It’s obvious that malls aren’t failing in America. Americans failed malls by ordering everything online.
After all that, I went back to the hotel to grab my bags, and then I walked to Brussels Noord station a few blocks from the hotel (it’s like I planned it that way). From this station, I was getting on my night train to Vienna.
While I took a couple of years of German in high school, I wasn’t very good at languages (and math), but I am very grateful for retaining some of that to help me navigate the train boarding process. It was all fairly easy, and we left on time for Vienna. More on the night train in the next post.
