While we’re on the subject of pork belly here is a review from Jennee’s sister, Liz. And feel free to bring the family to this one. Not a swear word in sight. Apparently Liz runs a “clean blog”… G
It was an overcast day in the big city. Three hopeful gal pals (no not those sort of gal pals – this isn’t going to be your usual trashy sh!t with lots of blatant se_ual innuendo. I run a clean blog) frolicked into the Belgium Beer Bar (sigh. I know you are thinking kinky thoughts – stop it right now!) looking forward to a nosh up filled with the best that a Brussels cafe in Canberra has to offer. The Belgium Beer (or bier if you want to sound w@nky) cafe chain is renown for its eastern block European style food and it’s exceptional array of Trappist Monk beer (bier). Oh yeah, those Monks know how to party – can I hear you say Hallelujah Brother?? I was actually expecting a flash mob of monks coming out to entertain us gangdam style, but our only eating companions were a pair of star crossed lovers, some old girls from the local tennis club and the latest Victoria Cross winner (along with a bunch of his very eye-candylicious mates).
Ushered into a window booth, the girls went to town on the drinks. Donna ordered a lemon squash and Penny followed suite. I had to make up for their total lack of commitment to the overall food experience and I ordered a Silly Saison. (Basically cos it looked nice and sounds like “silly season” which is being thrust upon us like steak knives on the infomercial channel).
I ordered the pork belly, Penny and Donna chose the char grilled chicken with garlic prawns. I wondered at this time, whether I was the only one at the table with any style at all. A very safe choice the chicken – always. Loosen up people, let your inner pig loose and try something new, for the love of all that is holy!!
We also saw on the menu, cheese balls and our inner pig called to us for a little bit of melted bliss. Girls like us never say no to balls on the side, so we got them. and they were good.
While we were waiting for our food to arrive, we engaged in the usual intellectually stimulating banter of Canberra girls everywhere. The inadequacies of the Westminster parliamentary system, Julia Gillard’s shoulder pads penchant, the low Aussie GDP and why Brad Pitt is still with Angelina.
Unfortunately we were just on the verge of nutting out how to tell the current pope that he should consider not wearing white as he is really a “summer colour” person, our food arrived and we were reduced to oohs and aahs as the ingredients made love to our tastebuds.
The grilled chicken came out first and the three large prawns sitting atop the chicken breast were smothered in a rich garlic sauce that whispered that the girls were not picking up tonight. My pork belly arrived swimming in a shallow pool of dark beer jus and resting resplendently on a lovingly prepared bed of sauerkraut and Belgian stoemp. (Steomp consists of pureed potatoes and other root veg and is freaking awesome). Rock salt still sparkled like diamonds on the crisp pork crackling and the meat underneath was succulent and tasty. The whole dish was a triumph of earthy tastes, each component graciously complementing the other. I finished my delectable lager and pork belly and fell back in my chair, completely spent.
My gal pals meanwhile, were busy licking the remains of their garlic sauce from their chins and were burping their way through the last of their lemon squash. (still so lame for not ordering beer)
I was busily typing up my thoughts on the meal and Penny said “you can make up some sh!t about my chicken. It’s really garlicky, really creamy and really yummy. Except for the poxy salad garnish.” Chef’s around the world – take note. She would also like some more prawns please.
All in all, it sure beat the plate of $12.95 beer battered chips I’d had at Gus’s the night before.
Don’t forget to vote on the Many Lands Challenge. If you don’t know what I’m on about check previous posts! Polls are open until Friday… G