Brussels, part II: "Today is a good day. Today I eat Speculoos." - Dandoy

Brussels, Belgium

Frites and beer aside, Belgium has a range of excellent foods on offer. 

Speculoos are Dutch biscuits from Belgium and the Netherlands. It has a crunchy, cinnamony spiciness that lends itself to being dunked into tea. We purchased a packet of them from the cookie specialist Maison Dandoy (which peculiarly sounds neither Dutch nor French - both these as well as English are fluently spoken by Brusselites). Founded in 1829, Dandoy boasts "spectaculoos speculoos" and we visited their shop on Rue au Beurre - translated as Butter Street as that's what used to be sold there. 

The windmill pattern is what you will usually find on speculoos, and originally the biscuits were cut and stamped with the windmill using hand carved wooden moulds (Dandoy still employs this technique). The biscuit is traditionally given to good children in celebration of Saint Nicolas on 6 December. Enigmatically, Dandoy states that the word speculoos means 'mirror' and "that is why all speculoos cookies reflect the image of St Nicolas". Hoooow?! I see only windmills. 

The Église St-Nicolas is one of the oldest in the city, and quite special. Shops have been built up on the outside of the church's walls, which is quite fitting as Saint Nick is patron saint of merchants (among an armful of other things including being Santa Claus). How spectaculoos!

Brussels is where the confectionaires thrive. Their large windows are piled high with pâte de fruits, meringues, flowing fountains of fondue, and slabs of glistening marzipan. 

Some chocolate shops have been in operation for a long while, but Neuhaus is one of the most famous as the owner's son invented praline. We tried several flavours over two visits, including a speculoos chocolate! The store was opened in 1857 in the Galleries Saint Hubert, where it still remains. 

The Galleries was commissioned by King Léopold I, and was the first indoor shopping arcade in Europe. 

Along the arched hallway we met up with an old friend: Méert, whose original shop is in Lille. Unable to pass up such an opportunity, we left with a package of gaufres in waxed paper tied with seafoam green ribbon. And speaking of waffles...

We had to try an actual Belgian waffle at some point in our trip. A café in the Galleries Saint Hubert where locals get their waffles sounded just right. The batter was light and airy, with a crispy exterior. Though they're not as good as childhood memories of waffle making at my friend Kelsi's house for breakfast after a sleepover, these were damn good waffles, especially with ice cream and chocolate sauce.

Through an easily missable alleyway the width of a person was Au Bon Vieux Temps, a bar since 1695. The wood panelled walls and golden lighting gave a cosy atmosphere, which couldn't even be spoiled by the pious Madonna and Child looking down at us. While fairly pricey, I could have spent all day there in comfort and warmth. Once we steeled ourselves for the chilly weather outside, we watched a scene unfold in the alley - an outspoken cat on an upper floor balcony meowed down at a man holding a cone of takeaway mussels and frites. Safe at ground level, the man calmly carried on eating and the cats eyes grew wider with unfulfilled gluttony.