Brings new meaning to “ugly duckling”. Fowl, but not foul, fortunately.
This take-home roasted duck (13 euros) from the small Vietnamese grocer Xuan Minh can look a little unsettling, but when heated in the oven you will forget all that. The meat has a great flavor with the right amount of saltiness and meatiness. Being duck, it also has lots of fat that not only helped the duck float when alive but also helps the meat taste like poultry’s glorious version of bacon after some crisping in the oven. Sticklers for health can scrape off all the skin, too, of course, but that’s no fun.
I tried to take a photo from the side that wasn’t cut into, so that it wouldn’t look so unappealing, but you can still see it. Oops. Anyway, whatever, it’s roasted duck on a plate, not the Mona Lisa. What can you do, put glitter on it in the shape of a smiley face? If you like duck or other Vietnamese produce, check this place out.
One can understand the steady price inflation at El Vergel over the years because its food is so darn good. Portion sizes might not satisfy everyone, but the flavors should. Case in point: the El Vergel cheesecake.
Don’t ask me what’s so Latin American about this cheesecake, but I’m not complaining. It boasts a smoother and creamier texture than some New York or Chicago cheesecakes, and there definitely is no air or puffiness to it. It’s really rich, but miraculously at the same time it’s not too rich, and like gourmet Marcolini chocolates, the sweetness doesn’t overpower the senses or leave your mouth dry. The crust also balances out the creaminess perfectly, with a strong biscuit-cookie taste and crumbly texture and just the tiniest, tiniest hint of saltiness. This cheesecake in a word: fantastic.
The only complaint is that the individual slices are getting smaller at the restaurant! Just buy a whole pie to avoid the trouble and cut yourself your own huge piece.
Remember those German cheeseburgers-in-a-can? The ones that were rumored to be extremely nasty? Well, the one in my living room expired a week ago, which naturally meant that it had to be eaten. Here’s a summary in ten pictures. Conclusions follow.
Curiosity killed the cat.
Our incredible volunteer popping it open. Everyone gasped. We crowded around. Nothing spewed out screaming like in Ghostbusters.
Popped open the other side and shucked it out. Dry bread! Someone said his hands now smelled like meat. Someone else said they smelled like poo. Someone had better have been wrong.
No campfire, so into the microwave it went! Our volunteer requested the "nuclear" setting, but we just settled for "high" for 30 seconds...
...and it came out steaming! Appetizing, no?
Modern art: the empty can.
Oh. My. God.
I shuddered at this point. (Click the photos to expand!)
What goes better with a cheeseburger from a can than a glass of fine French red wine, of course? No ketchup or other condiments were added, in order not to taint the subtle flavors carefully engineered using the best in German technology.
Chompin' down. He did his best.
He didn't finish.
Our excellent volunteer with a steel stomach concluded a few points about this thing:
1. It’s better than Quick.
2. The meat actually tasted like meat.
3. The meat also tasted like paper.
4. The “cheese” had plenty of something awful.
5. If you were stuck in the woods somewhere and had this canned burger, you could eat it without dying.
So there you go. Not good at all, but in the end, you could do worse. Three cheers for German innovation!
Carnivores have to take advantage of the succulent roasted chickens over at the weekly Sunday morning market at Place Jourdan. There are at least two places to choose from for the poulets, but you might have to queue for a while if you go late by lunchtime. At 8-10 euros each for a large and tasty bird, the wait is worth it.
It’s a good thing that Brussels has several markets around the area with fresh breads, fruit, vegetables, meat, cheese, fish, and all sorts of other things, not to mention flowers and cheap clothes. Just another plus for the city.
For all the foodies out there in Brussels, brush up on your French so that you can watch the show “Un dîner presque parfait”, a mix of all those “reality television” chef competitions and food critic shows, rolled into one francophone hour of programming. I’ve taken to watching the show while I’m running on the treadmill at my gym — a totally ironic pairing, I know — but it works because I run with more enthusiasm as I watch the contestant-critics prepare roasted chicken and molten chocolate cake. Then when they talk about how awesome or awful the opponents’ creations are, I laugh. It’s my new favorite show here. Check your local listings.
