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.

Chez Oki

One thing that has not failed us since arriving here is the food. Time and again, J and I have felt ourselves soothed by a meal, a snack, a galette at the market. This seems particularly likely to happen when we're questioning the soundness and well-thought-out-ness (both questionable) of our move, lending a completely new perspective on the concept of "comfort eating." Ok, make that bingeing.

Last weekend proved no exception. To celebrate/mitigate the misery of our return, we headed to Chez Oki. It was fantastic. Halfway into the first course, J and I were frantically trying to figure out how to trade up to 5 from the 4-course menu surprise we had selected. But we had no luck flagging down the waiter, so we just decided to come back another time.

Among the offerings: Oki's signature foie gras maki, tuna tartare laid on a bed of 2 decidely French sauces (and it worked), a perfectly prepared steak enclosed in panko breadcrumbs. My lackluster descriptions notwithstanding, this is the kind of food that could restore fusion's kind-of-tacky reputation. (After all, what could possibly go wrong when you combine good French and Japanese cooking?) I also enjoyed witnessing chef Oki (?) deftly evade a demanding patron's request to be told what exactly would constitute the menu: "Madame, that is why it is called a menu surprise."

I'm not very good at taking pictures at restaurants (one reason I will never be a successful blogger), mainly because I forget to before tucking in. Luckily, the ones on their site are illustrative, as well as this little Zen one swiped from Be My Guest.  

Brussels Beauty Tour

I don't know if it's me, the weather, the calcium-rich water, or mild culture shock, but something is going on with my skin. And it's not just the fleas.

So I decided to try not one, but two estheticians. Since googling "Brussels and facials" doesn't yield much result, I thought it might be worth writing about, at the very least to see if anyone else has any suggestions. Skip this post if skin care does not interest you in the least.

The fruits of my dermo-adventures so far:

Livia Kova. Self-proclaimed "legend around town" spa near Place Lux. Generally gets good reviews. I wasn't personally in love with its cherub and excess-of-charm aesthetic, but the esthetician did a good job, and the whole experience was comfortable, if not necessarily luxurious. Aggressive attempt to sell product was a slight turn-off at the end. A facial can be had for 87€, which borders on expensive by my standards, depending on the exchange rate.

Pause Beauté (no web site; 0478 35 95 79). This one was a little more of a gamble. I think I persisted in getting an appointment (not the easiest thing - closed more often than open, returned my call over a day later) simply because it seemed a little difficult. But most importantly, it's around the corner from my apartment in Saint Gilles. Like many things here, the experience was a bit weird and yet enjoyably so. (This is starting to take on a tone I didn't intend.) For one, the esthetician informed me she basically had all the time in the world, just like her family members in Africa. Not sure if that meant business is a little slow. What this did mean was that built into the facial were a number of lengthy massages, some with reflexology. Overall enjoyable experience, clocking in at 2h and 88€. (High eighties seems the going rate.)

If someone were paying me for this, I would also check out Aspria, Espace Beauté, Serendip Spa, and subscription-based Wax Zone Ixelles. Let me know if you have done so already.

P.S. Salon de Shyou and Mario Badescu, you are missed.