Master Chef vs. Top Chef

PHOTO VIA BBC.CO.UK
I miss a lot of my TV shows. A friend asked recently if I've been watching Big Love, and the sad but obvious answer was no. I briefly considered buying the season pass for Lost on iTunes, but decided I didn't want to shell out actual money for the ultimate wind-up. Top Chef is another show I don't watch anymore - not because it's not on here, but because Belgian TV (on which one channel, Vitaya, appears dedicated exclusively to reality TV) is about three seasons behind.
BBC, however, has its own reality cooking show, or as they call it, "cookery competition" - Master Chef. And I was thinking tonight that I might actually like it better. Here's why:
1. No annoying Padma. Seriously, is she on prescription painkillers? Everything she says is soooo draaaaaawn ouuut. Those commercials where she was dancing were so . . . embarrassing. And she is obviously too skinny to know the first thing about food. I do miss Tom Colicchio, though.
2. I think they make the contestants work harder on Master Chef. Tonight, they sent them to Buckingham Palace to cook for the employees' cafeteria lunch service there. Not an easy job, and not likely to prompt illusions along the lines of "I could do that!" Last week, each contestant went to a well-known London restaurant to carry the lunch service. (Notice that they're not sent during dinner.) This all stands in stark contrast to, say, preparing for a cook-off before a ballgame.
3. There is less drama - the contestants are simply there to cook. Sure, one could argue that this makes the British show less fun to watch. But I can do without - at some point Top Chef began to suffer from Project Runway-itis, i.e., when it becomes obvious that not even the top contender will actually become the celebrity chef (or designer) for whose job they are supposedly vying.
4. Also, MasterChef is on several times per week. And not even at the same time, just to make things more interesting!

La Cuisine and Pudding Rock

PHOTO OF LA CUISINE VIA VINO GUSTO
As you may have noticed, I've been slacking on the blog lately. Perhaps J and I are, quite simply, getting used to Brussels and having fewer Eureka! moments (this excludes our conclusion the other day that being here is a little like Lost - the expats are the plane crash survivors, the locals are The Others, and you're always wondering if there might be more of you, especially ones from New York. But anyway.)

As I've mentioned before, one thing that very seldom fails us here, even when (or particularly when) we're feeling disgruntled or lonely, is the food. In that vein, brief reviews of two restaurants we recently visited:

La Cuisine, Rue Lesbroussart, 85. I've walked by this place many times and found it fetching enough to look at, but then succumbed to the charms of its even-more-beckoning neighbors L'Annexe and Chez Oki. Which, it turns out, is not entirely fair to this little gem of a restaurant, which serves typical Belgo-French (and then some) fare. The night we went, J had mushroom toast and Argentine-style steak, whereas I started with carrot soup, followed by roasted skate and delicious Brussels sprout stoemp (for those who don't know, like me upon arriving here, stoemp is basically mashed potatoes with something else, usually a veggie, mixed in). Dessert: an equally delightful rhubarb tart. All in all, an enjoyable, affordable neighborhoody joint that I would wholeheartedly recommend.

Pudding Rock, Rue du Mail, 76. Like La Cuisine, and most other finds in Brussels, I discovered this place on a walk (in fact, my thrice-weekly walk to French school, which I recently re-started). Went there with some friends for lunch last Friday, and was more than pleasantly surprised: from the tuna tartare amuse bouche to the very last dish of my tasting platter (or, really, tray), I was reminded of much more expensive - and pretentious - restaurants in Manhattan. Which is probably what I like best about Brussels' (and most of Europe's) foodie scene - yes, there are the Michelin-rated institutions, all of which I would like to visit at some point. But in the mean time, a seemingly endless supply of other, more moderately priced restaurants will accommodate my credit-crunched wallet. Although the origins of Pudding Rock's name remain elusive (the interior was vaguely Scottish, the way, say, Gwen Stefani's L.A.M.B. line is), the quality of the food was unambiguous. Somehow, the chicon (endive) purée was reminiscent of the cauliflower pannacotta I once had at the Modern. Mmmm.

Cornelia Parker

IMAGE VIA FLICKR 

If I go to a museum, and one piece stays with me, I consider the visit a success. This happened last Thursday when J and I popped into the Tate Modern and saw "Thirty Pieces of Silver" by Cornelia Parker for the first time. 

I believe the piece speaks for itself, but there was something about steamrolling giant quantities of abandoned (but presumably once highly prized) family silver that felt novel, even subversive. And then the act of suspending these pieces from the ceiling - barely touching the ground, these flattened family heirlooms appeared to be floating - created an illusion, and an installation, that was also truly pleasing to the eye.

Just Sharing

Because isn't that what blogs are for?

Nice FT article that sums up some of my sentiments about, as well as providing decent advice for, being an expat. 

I know everyone in NY has seen it, but this NYT blog post made me smile while it was still dark out this morning. A rarity indeed. (Some of the older posts are treasures, too.)

And now that you've seen "I LEGO NY," I shouldn't even bother, but I did post some pictures on fb the other day to prove that I've actually been up to something since I arrived here. Enjoy.

London vs. NY vs. . . . Brussels?

The relative merits of London vs. New York have been the subject of endless debate (e.g., here). But heading to London this past weekend, I was curious to see how the city would feel - coming from Brussels rather than New York. Survey says: it feels like America. Big time. Yes, the English are still English - pouring out of pubs despite looming snowfall. Whilst in the suburbs, we even saw a typical (aka clearly bombed) English lass squeezing herself into her car, cigarette hanging from mouth, wearing nothing but a tank top, despite the freezing temperature. Some of these people put Britney Spears to shame!

My point is - London feels a lot like New York, especially coming from Brussels. Let me count the ways:

It is fashionable. Some people think NY is more so than London and vice versa, but the point is really that they both are. Belgium, particularly Antwerp, may be the seat of great design, but a lot of people here look like a prototype out of a Medieval hamlet, pre-mass-distributed self-care regimens. (Which is probably also why the gym is strange here.)

People speak English. I realize this is completely self-evident. And that some would argue they don't really speak the same language (see cockney rhyming slang). Don't get me wrong, I love learning and speaking French. But it was also really nice to be somewhere where making (or receiving) small talk was effortless, and where I could walk into any store and buy what I needed without playing charades with the shopkeeper.         

Real estate is crap. Finally, an area in which Brussels outshines its rivals. Despite supposedly falling rents in New York, we do not miss you, New York apartments. Not from our architect-renovated floor-through in a Bruxellois maison de maître. (It's true that we had fleas. And the weather outside is usually the same color as our smoky chic interior. But still.)

It is multi-ethnic. Walking around London, what struck me the most was that I was not surrounded by the repetitive cross-breeding of the members of one, maybe two tribes. No, London is teeming with the sights and sounds of multi-ethnic, multi-racial existence! Just like New York. Which makes me feel right at home. 

People are sometimes quite obnoxious. You know the sayings, the myth making: multiple variations on the "If you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere" theme. London has the same spirit, to a degree, resulting in part from the collection of a great number of people who are really good at what they do. The global financial crisis has moderated the narcissisistic tendencies of both cities, but only to a degree. There remain an outsize number of large personalities - and personality disorders, too. (Witness DABA, an absurd showing of Wall Street widow self-promotion and book deal grabbing. She could only have been born in New York, but would consider moving to London). On the other hand, almost everyone I've met in Brussels is modest and nice - even if they are quite reserved or shy (without a doubt, traits non grata for the NY-London set).