Archive for October, 2008
Ca Plane Pour Moi
October 27th, 2008 | 
Author: I had never visited Belgium, Ive driven through it a few times en route to Germany, but Belgium doesnt exactly conjure up inspiratational thoughts. As the old joke goes, “can you name five famous Belgians?”
Unless youre a beer lover.
Belgium, as any beer afficianado will tell you, is home to Trappist and Lambic Ales, some of the most complex and challenging flavours ever atributed to a mixture of Barley, Hops, Yeast and Water. So while the conference subject might have been dry, I was confident my evenings wouldnt be.
A little online research directed me to a couple of bars, A La Mort Subite and Cafe Delirium, both affiliated to brews I have enjoyed of old. Cafe Delirium is mentioned in the Guinness Book of World records for having the largest selection of beers (over 2000) while its located opposite the Floris bar which stocks more than 300 varieties of Absinthe!
Our first evening in Brussels was spent exploring. My first beer was a large (500ml) Leffe Dark at about 6%, at a pavement café in the gras market. From there we located “A la Mort Subite” – a veritable temple to beer. While their range of beers is not vast, there were some interesting Lambic beers on draught. Lambic beers are brewed with wild yeasts and have a distinctive, slightly sour flavour. Later in the evening we found “Café Delirium” which is also named after a beer – in this case Delirium Tremens which comes in at a very respectable 9% abv. To be honest DT is a brewed for strength rather than flavour, but the cafe, which stocks over 2,000 beers is a must visit for any afficianado of beer. (Although maybe just for one or two beers.
The bar attached to my hotel, most hotels in fact, stocks Leffe as its house beer, so it was a pleasant stop for a nightcap. While its nice to have a local like The Curlew that serves Shepherd Neame beers, a local that serves Leffe on draught takes it to a whole new level.
We returned to Cafe Delirium a few evenings later and explored their extensive list of bottled beers. I had spotted Duchess du Burgogne in one of the many beer shops and decided it was time to revisit that particular duchess. I wasnt disappointed, and resolved to take a bottle home for a more disciplined tasting for The Brew Club an American website Ive started writing for.
The Belgians are well known for adding exotic flavours to their beers and when I spotted someone drinking a beer from a coconut shell I thought “Ill have some of that!” and yes, the beer “Mongozo” was light, refreshing and had a full coconut nose – imagine a Pina Colada shandy! And it was a fairtrade beer from Kenya so everybody wins.
The conference itself was really interesting, and Val amused herself during the days by exploring the Belgian chocolate shops, all in all we had a very pleasant break.
And as for five famous Belgians – umm – well how about Audrey Hepburn, Jean Claude Van Damme, Jacques Brel, Tin Tin and Hercule Poirot (and two of those were fictional!)
Riding with the King
Ive been a fan of Stephen King since the summer of seventy five. Id followed my parents up to Sheffield after leaving school and spent the summer reading junk in the garden of their new house.
Almost inevitably I quickly ran out of reading matter, so I wandered down to the local newsagent. Somewhere on the rotating wire rack I spotted a volume that was considerably thicker than the rest, a veritable “Lord of the Rings”. I figured that might last me a while so I picked it up, it was ”The Stand” by Stephen King.
I read the blurb on the back cover and then turned to the first few pages – there was a quote from Bruce Springsteens “Jungleland”.
I figured that any writer who quoted “The Boss” was alright by me.
I was right, on several counts. The book did indeed last me longer than most and as a fan of most things American, I enjoyed Stephen Kings writing style. Having said that, I thought the book was flawed; the climax seemed rushed and well, anticlimactic. I guess that was inevitable, it would be nigh on impossible to craft any satisfactory climax to a story that starts by wiping out 99% of the human race!
So why am I dredging up the past now?
Well this last week on the train I have been reading Kings latest – Duma Key - and while my old mate Jon would often expound that most writers only have three good books in them, this one, which must be Kings thirtieth, is a cracker, and this time he seems to have gotten the climax right.
The story is pretty much the same as King visited in “It” – the ancient boogie man that must be challenged and destroyed. As I recall the climax of It was unsatisfactory as well. (In my humble opinion of course – I envy King’s talent, but as a paying guest I believe Im entitled to my opinions.)
Whats different with Duma Key is that King has set this book in a fictitious island on the Florida Keys, and his main protaganist, if not hero, is recovering from major injuries – not unlike those sustained by King in 1999. The plot is more personal, more internalised and thus more intense, and even though the story is written in the first person (so you can reasonably assume the hero survives) the story grips, and the climax – this time – doesnt disappoint.
And in common with The Stand – Duma Key is thicker than most books on the shelf, and lasted me the best part of a weeks commuting.
I guess I should dig out some of the old King stuff to revisit.
From Father to Son
There are days when the world changes, everybody recognises them; the day when Kennedy, John Lennon or Princess Diana died. Depending on your generation you know what you were doing or where you were on those world changing days.
Then there are the days when your own personal world changes, the day you meet the love of your life, the day you lose a loved one or maybe the day when you land that dream job.
Yesterday the world changed for me, with the birth of our first grandson. I say our because I cant claim much involvement, I acquired Gaz when he was in his teens and while I have no genetic claim to parenthood, having seen him through his difficult (and they were difficult) teenage years through to respectable adulthood, I can claim to have some small involvement. I know that I stood as tall as his genetic father did when Gaz passed out from his basic RAF training at Swinderby.
Gaz is now 41, and a Corporal in the RAF; hes served in the Falklands, Bosnia, Northern Ireland, Afghanistan and Iraq. Been there, done that, earned the medal and wears it with pride.
So now he has a son of his own, I hope Ive provided some small influence that Gaz makes a good father, I guess thats all any of us can hope for.
Update – after meeting our new grandson, and inevitably falling for his charms, Ive learned that hes to be called Kalin Alan Robert Smith – Kalin means (by all accounts – Strong Warrior in Gaelic) Alan is his genetic father, and Robert from yours truly, so maybe I did do something right!
You find more pictures on my Brag Blog here