Where Are The Rides?

Quoting Betsy on that one.  Wouldja get a load of this supermarket in Osaka?  We thought it was an arcade from the outside.

A Rougette Rant

That's a little misleading.  I'm not going to rant about rougette.  I mean, just look how cute this old-seed French lettuce is!  Who could rant about that?  

I am going to rant about what almost came between me and my rougette.  

You see, I wasn't planning on having any rougette at all.  I was making my way toward some macarons (Georges Larnicol, if you must know) when I saw the market near Hotel de Ville.  Never one to miss a market, I had to stop.  I made a couple of loops, surveying and planning what to make my lunch.  I opted for some fresh (and filleted!) sardines, a lemon, a piece of fourme d'ambert cheese, and… some rougette.  I am quite in love with the lettuce over here, so when I saw these bi-color cuties, I couldn't pass them up.  

There was a queue at the stand with the rougette, so I went to the end of the line.  Just then a lady some feet back from what seemed to be the end of the line proclaimed, "J'attend!" (I am waiting) and in a huff moved herself and her empty rolly cart to the proper end of the line.  Startled by her, I let out a prompt "Pardon!" as has come to be my second nature when bumped or surprised or unable to understand something or in just about any circumstance, really.  


In my mind, you can't go wrong with "Pardon."  I probably say it too often, as I go klutzing around this city.  I don't notice many people saying "Pardon" when they run into me, come to think of it, but I always throw out a "Pardon" in passing if I even brush against someone.  Why not?  It's an easy save.  


Except for this old French biddy.  She was talking under her breath as she assumed her rightful place and then she couldn't WAIT to tell the lady in front of her how I said "Pardon" and not "Excusez-moi" when I had taken her place in line.  (You know what lady?  If you are over 4 feet from the end of the line, it is fair to assume you aren't in it!)  And to say "Pardon" after my action, to not even give her a proper "Excusez-moi!"  Unbelievable!  She was going on about me to the woman in front of her, shaking her head and showing her disdain in her body language, like I wasn't even there.  Or like I was there, but I was some kind of line-cutting étranger ogre.  


I felt myself getting hot.  I felt shaky.  I wanted both to cry and knock this lady's block off simultaneously.  I wanted to leave the line, leave the stand, leave the rougette.  But mostly, I just wanted to say something snappy back to her.  Moments that felt like hours passed.  I decided that this bitch was not going to come between me and my lettuce, and I also decided that I wasn't going to be anybody's fool --in any language, in any country.  


So the next instant she angled her head remotely toward me, I let loose in poorly accented and rudimentary French with something to the effect of, "Merci, madame.  Maintenant je sais de dire 'Excusez-moi' le prochain fois.  J'apprends le Francais maintentent et j'essaie." Basically, what I said or was trying to say was, "Thanks, madame.  Now I know to say 'Excusez-moi' the next time.  I am learning French now and I'm trying."  That's right, I'm trying, you miserable bitch.  I'm TRYING.  


I sure took her off guard with that flurry.


She quipped back that I know enough French to understand what she was saying then!  And she asked what my native tongue was.  Well, thanks adrenaline and emotion for almost making me say "Americain"  (duh, you don't speak "American," well not really...) back to her, but I caught myself and ended up with "Anglais."  Phew.  And that was that.  She was up to order and I can't say I didn't take some joy in hearing her ask for beets for one.  


As I pictured her choking alone on a root vegetable, I realized I was eating for one, too.  Though probably less miserably.  

Wherever is the parade this weekend, my good man?

We were looking for a sneaker store (which also sells fixed gear frames) on Saturday and stumbled upon the Eglise Notre Dame du Sablon (or Church of Our Lady of the Sablon).  It was built in the 15th and 16th centuries, and is just splendid.  It has 46-foot high stained glass windows, but it also has all of these other cool carvings, paintings, and statues!  There were two small, black and white marble chapels that looked beautiful but were closed when we went.  Without further adieu, some scenes from Notre Dame du Sablon:

Creeeeeepy dead peeps.

The patron saint of dandies everywhere?

Crests!

This must be the "dame" herself.  Nice dress, hm?

The "dame" classes up some candle holders.  Can I borrow 5 euro?




From there, we strode through the Sablon Antiques Market.  What a charming market, it is!  There were some really beautiful and unusual pieces there--from anything-you-can-imagine made of silver to jewelry to frames to art to bits n' bobs to walking sticks to keys to whatever your heart desires.  Come for a visit and we'll go!

And surely you recognize this old friend?

I am quite taken with the Mannequin Pis.  So much so that if I know we are in the vicinity, I beg to be taken there. (I say "taken there" because I am perpetually lost in this city.  I can't get my bearings--north is south, east is west--the whole bloody city just confuses me.  I had it *down* in SF and Columbus and Philly, but Brussels??  Woof!  I hope it's only temporary...  Even the damn Tenbosch Park is like a warp zone for me!)  I just like seeing what he's up to and, well, seeing him!  This was the first time I caught him in an outfit, and my how jaunty he looks in his neckerchief!  Turns out, his costume was related to parade that had popped up a few blocks away because there were real live people kicking it off in the same outfits.

So it's not a weekend in Brussels without a parade of some sort!  This one featured huge paper mache effigies.  Each figure appeared to represent a city or region in Belgium, and each was accompanied by proud citizens of that city/region and a band.  Yeah, each figure had its own band.  Nice touch.

And that was just Saturday!

To market, to market!

Really, I am.  In fact, the Chatelain market makes me freak out a little bit.  I just can't get over it.  Can heaven be like this?  Can it just be one big browse-around, sampling and ogling baked goods, cheese, and produce?  I could do this for eternity.

So it's a rainy day--not bad enough to keep me from doing a preliminary stroll-by of an apartment, though.  On my way back, I stumbled upon our neighborhood market.  And I got right to it.  (Of course, the whole time I was thinking I *can't* move from this neighborhood, I can't move from this *MARKET!*  That's me and markets for you.

This is an apple cake.  It looks odd in the photograph, well, and odd in life.  But I bet you it's delicious! Stop it now... the apple cake wouldn't make fun of YOU!

This is a brownie, of course.  Again, I'm sure this will be perfection.  (And in case you haven't noticed, I put the iPhone away in favor of the big camera for these shots... finally!)

And this, my friends, is a gourmandise au foie gras.  It was 2 euro (!), and is just over an inch in diameter.  I am fairly certain it will prove to be money well spent, however, as it's got a big chunk o'foie gras in the middle.  I got one for B, too, and I'm saving mine so we can revel in their mind-blowingness together.  Stay tuned!

Cochino waits patiently (...or perhaps devises her plan to capture the foie gras puffs for herself).

Wednesday Night Market at Chatelain

If you know me, you know there are fewer things that make me happier than markets. Indoors, outdoors, of the grocery variety... set me down in a market and I will wander for hours.

There is a market every Wednesday night in Chatelain, an area near where we're staying for now. (Though this is an area we might end up living in permanently.) It's a very nice area, with lots of restaurants and young people and expats. Anyway, their market is pretty dope. We wandered around and then had a glass of champagne. You can sip wine/champs while walking around the market (I mean, is this my kinda market or what?) or even buy a bottle cheap-like and hang out and drink it with your friends.


Behold the strawberries!

All hail Le Roi Du Poulet!

It's the snake plant... braided!!!

Olives, anyone?

Pates, etc. Note the blood sausage in the middle left. The rabbit terrine with hazelnuts was especially tempting.

There was more cheese than you can shake a stick at.

Fried treats. We had to give those some love, too.