A memorable dinner in Brussels

The last day in Belgium had been pleasant--we'd gone to an excellent new restaurant called Rouge Tomate, where initially the service threatened to be on the "we're too hip to recognize your existence" side, but ended up probably bumping out a memorable meal to be on my list of top 25 meals of my life. (Clara took most of these photos, by the way.) This place had been started by a former colleague of Christine's at the Commission: years ago she recalls him asking people, "What about 'Rouge Tomate'? I think that's a great name."

Everything about the place was beautifully executed, from the furnishings to the plates. This lavender risotto was amazing, as was my chicken, and Christine's fish, she said with a mixture of admiration and frustration, "was the way you could never make it at home." They're also trying to do the local / sustainable thing, which is a bit ahead of the curve, ironically enough, and most of the time they seem to be on the right side of "precious" food. We were at the end of the sitting, which may have explained the slow start, but it also meant that when the chef came over at around 10:45, we could talk for awhile. He's a young (like, 25) powerhouse who was tickled to learn Julius and I were originally from California--he was from Graton, near Sebastopol, and was on a fast track to success, having worked at Cyrus when he was in high school and at a bigname New York restaurant before joining Rouge Tomate in New York and then coming to Brussels. His description of the precision with which the fish has to be put over the potatoes ("Everything has to be at exactly the right temperature and moisture, and you only have one shot to place it.") made me glad once again that I am not and never will be in the restaurant business.


However, the desserts didn't disappoint either. We split a couple of them, including one of the best chocolate creations I can remember (Clara didn't share much) and Alex the chef sent over a dish of the best ices I can remember tasting--apricot to die for, and mint, just exquisite.

A truly grand evening, which after a rough start even elicited non-teen behavior from the girls--a pleasant surprise. Of course, the next day, the trip to England awaited me, but not before a dozen more Tour-related e-mails and a phone call with more news of car-repair follies.