Latest news with #LaMortSubite
The Age
5 days ago
- The Age
When it comes to eating overseas, forget what's new. Go for what's old
This article is part of Traveller's Holiday Guide to bucket-list places to eat. See all stories. After a lifetime of chasing the newest hotels, hottest restaurants and latest food trends all over the world, I've changed my mind. Maybe it's just my age and stage in life, but I'm starting to place a new value on all things old. On a recent eating holiday in Brussels, I relinquished my obsessive need for the shiny and new, and instead spent time researching and discovering the old, the classic, the historic and the tried-and-true. It's quite the switcheroo, to ask 'what's old?' but Brussels is the perfect city in which to celebrate old-school cool. Suddenly, I was sitting at a dark, heavy, wooden table in a Belle Epoque dining room at La Roue d'Or, which opened in 1882; its muralled walls painted in homage to Magritte. The menu lists real Flemish and Belgian food, not just mussels and frites for the tourists; things like carbonnade (beef and onion stew, cooked in beer), and stoemp (carrot and potato or swede mash). The waiters are old, and have seen it all, but still bustle about carrying heavy trays that must kill their knees. Many of the tables carry a small brass plaque of the names of regular diners, just in case someone else imagines they can sit there. Lunch was at the legendary beer hall, La Mort Subite, now a classified historic monument. It's cheap, wonderful, and opens a window to a culture that has been brewing beer for a thousand years, and knows instinctively what goes well with it. That turns out to be big trays of cold meats and cheeses, and tartines of jellied tête pressée (basically braised and pressed calf's head, smashed onto a baguette). The oldest restaurant in the world, according to the Guinness Book of Records (which may or may not be correct) is Sobrino de Botin, or Casa Botin, in Madrid, which dates to 1725. It's a very old-fashioned, beautiful, lace-curtained, tiled restaurant that, these days, is full of tourists. But never mind because it is also full of cool, summery gazpacho, served at the table, and the kitchen is aglow from the huge medieval oven; every shelf around it lined with young pigs in terracotta dishes. Terrifying, but compelling. London is filled with exciting new restaurants, but, oh, give me the old ones. Like the 138-year-old Sweetings in the City, for terribly English potted shrimps and skate wing and bacon, with puddings of spotted dick or steamed jam roll. It's lunch-only, with no reservations, but happiness is getting a seat at the mahogany counter, nursing a half-pint of Black Velvet, made with Guinness and French champagne.
Sydney Morning Herald
5 days ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
When it comes to eating overseas, forget what's new. Go for what's old
This article is part of Traveller's Holiday Guide to bucket-list places to eat. See all stories. After a lifetime of chasing the newest hotels, hottest restaurants and latest food trends all over the world, I've changed my mind. Maybe it's just my age and stage in life, but I'm starting to place a new value on all things old. On a recent eating holiday in Brussels, I relinquished my obsessive need for the shiny and new, and instead spent time researching and discovering the old, the classic, the historic and the tried-and-true. It's quite the switcheroo, to ask 'what's old?' but Brussels is the perfect city in which to celebrate old-school cool. Suddenly, I was sitting at a dark, heavy, wooden table in a Belle Epoque dining room at La Roue d'Or, which opened in 1882; its muralled walls painted in homage to Magritte. The menu lists real Flemish and Belgian food, not just mussels and frites for the tourists; things like carbonnade (beef and onion stew, cooked in beer), and stoemp (carrot and potato or swede mash). The waiters are old, and have seen it all, but still bustle about carrying heavy trays that must kill their knees. Many of the tables carry a small brass plaque of the names of regular diners, just in case someone else imagines they can sit there. Lunch was at the legendary beer hall, La Mort Subite, now a classified historic monument. It's cheap, wonderful, and opens a window to a culture that has been brewing beer for a thousand years, and knows instinctively what goes well with it. That turns out to be big trays of cold meats and cheeses, and tartines of jellied tête pressée (basically braised and pressed calf's head, smashed onto a baguette). The oldest restaurant in the world, according to the Guinness Book of Records (which may or may not be correct) is Sobrino de Botin, or Casa Botin, in Madrid, which dates to 1725. It's a very old-fashioned, beautiful, lace-curtained, tiled restaurant that, these days, is full of tourists. But never mind because it is also full of cool, summery gazpacho, served at the table, and the kitchen is aglow from the huge medieval oven; every shelf around it lined with young pigs in terracotta dishes. Terrifying, but compelling. London is filled with exciting new restaurants, but, oh, give me the old ones. Like the 138-year-old Sweetings in the City, for terribly English potted shrimps and skate wing and bacon, with puddings of spotted dick or steamed jam roll. It's lunch-only, with no reservations, but happiness is getting a seat at the mahogany counter, nursing a half-pint of Black Velvet, made with Guinness and French champagne.
