Culture, Cobblestones & Canals

I approached the driver in the main square to inquire about a carriage ride and, still in the habit from Brussels, tossed off a sprightly “bonjour.” I blame being tired for my social stumble. This was the heart of West Flanders, and French is not a sound that rings friendly in their ears. The driver smiled and kindly said, “A small piece of advice, if I may? Here, it is much more polite to begin a conversation in English, rather than French, if you don’t know Flemish.”

I apologized. “Not so much for my generation,” he continued, “but there are still grudges within the older population.”

Thanks for reading Feed The Muse! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.

“How do you say hello in Flemish?” I asked.

“Hoeijendagh,” he said. “Who e yen dak,” he repeated separating out the syllables. “Or you can just say, dak.”

And with that, I learned a new way to say hello and was reminded that Bruges and Flanders are more closely aligned with the Dutch, having migrated from northern climes back in the day.

The Venice of the North. Winding canals, Gothic architecture, and the sound of carriages pulled by horses on cobblestone. A place to stroll and linger. Dine out on the Markt and take in some art. Drink some Belgian ale overlooking the corner of the canal you have seen in all the travel guides before going to learn more than you ever wanted to about frites at the Frietmuseum. A rich medieval city, it shifted its economy to tourism once the diamond trade moved to Antwerp and is the perfect weekend getaway, with just the right amount of activity to feel like an extended Sunday afternoon.

My wife and I climbed into the back of the carriage and were introduced to our horse, Seanna, before heading off, clopping our way through the narrow streets, across the canal bridges, and past the key sites we would come back to see. Past the “Pricely Beguinage Ten Wigngaarde” where unmarried women would be allowed to live if they led a pious life and prayed for the soul of their sponsor. Past the statue of Apollo’s chariot, where all the horses are trained to increase their speed so as not to block the narrow lane. Past the oldest brewery in Bruges with the unique feature of a pipeline that runs beer to the bottling plant (a key part of the short story “The Great Belgian Beer Caper”). And past the famous swans that, if they were to leave, would ruin Bruges’ very existence. The carriage gave a thirty-minute overview of the old part of town and provided a gentle introduction into the history of the city and a rest for our legs after climbing the 366 steps to the top of the 13th century bell tower.

Climbing the belfry is not for the timid, but the view is worth it. If for no other reason than to work off some of that chocolate, frites, and waffles. From the top, as long as your ears can stand it, you can view the city and surrounding lands and the port on the North Sea. We peered down at our lodging, the Hotel De Orangerie, and the brewery next door and across the canal to the Church of Our Lady where the only Michelangelo sculpture outside of Italy, the Madonna and Child sculpture, can be viewed. Like all of his work, there is an ethereal quality that brings a radiating life to the marble. I’m not sure if they built the church with gleaming white marble because of the statue or the statue found its perfect home within the alabaster interior. It must have been transformative to view the sculpture during service before they moved it to its current location within the museum portion of the cathedral. As we left, we noticed groups of tourists taking photos of the current statue of Christ, which is pretty, but not a Michelangelo. My wife and I wondered how many tourists come in to check it off of their list only to miss the principal attraction by not realizing you have to pay for the museum.

Next to the cathedral is another museum of the medieval life of the rich and ruling class. It is probably my favorite interior in all of Belgium and provided an interesting context with which to view the fairy-tale city. And as with today, wealth had its advantages. Today it might be the in-home movie theater, but then it was the ability to attend mass from your enclosed private pew, high above the others, without leaving your house or even put on shoes. To see and be seen without exposing yourself to the elements or illness. Membership has its privileges.

As with Venice, my favorite time in Bruges is in the early morning and late evening, before the day trippers have arrived and after they have left. It is then, in the quiet, when the canal is calm, that you catch glimpses, like passing shadows, of what life was once like in times past and how the locals exist today. When you can watch the Peregrine Falcons swoop down from tower of the cathedral and back up again to their perch. I like to stay in a place I am visiting so that I can be there “after hours.” To see the place for how it is as well as the side they show visitors. I love having coffee in the morning while the street sweepers and trash collectors tidy the city. Watching the locals make their way to the places they need to be for the day and the shop keepers preparing their stores for opening. It is in those moments where I feel like I truly get to know a place.

“Bruges is a beautiful medieval city almost untouched by time. If you like jazz, you will be well catered for. If you like chocolate and beer, you will be in heaven. -- James Frain”

After two days of visiting the museums of Bruges, and yes, even the Frietmuseum to learn more about the humble spud than I ever thought possible, we took the thirty-minute train to Ghent to view the famous alter-piece, take in the view from yet another bell tower -- this one thankfully with an elevator installed -- and tour the castle.

One thing that I love about travel is those moments, the first time you see Big Ben, the moment you see a sculpture by Bernini, seeing the Eiffel Tower as you come around the corner, those moments where you see in life the things you first saw in history books and on film. The Ghent alter-piece is one of those things. Viewing it in person, you understand. You see the moment. The moment when we left the dark ages and the Renaissance was born. And you understand the galvanizing power of art.

After viewing the alter-piece and taking in the city's view from the bell tower, we stopped for a warming meal of Carbonnade along the river before taking the train back to Bruges for one last flights of ale along the canal and our final night at one of my favorite hotels in Europe.

Want to show your support for this free content? You can leave a onetime tip by clicking here.

Beef Carbonnade

Ingredients:

• 3 lbs chuck roast or stewing beef, cut into 1-inch pieces
• Salt, to taste
• Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
• 4 tbs butter, divided
• 3 medium yellow onions, sliced 1/4 inch thick
• 3 tbs all-purpose flour
• 1 cup beef broth
• 1 1/2 cups Belgian beer
• 4 sprigs fresh thyme
• 2 bay leaves
• 1 tbs mustard
• 1 tbs brown sugar
• 2 tsp red wine vinegar

Instructions:

1. Season the beef pieces with salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.
2. In a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot, heat 2 tablespoons of butter over medium-high heat. Add the beef in batches, being careful not to overcrowd the pot, and brown on all sides. Transfer the browned beef to a plate and set aside.
3. Reduce the heat to medium and add the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter to the pot. Add the sliced onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until they are soft and caramelized, about 15-20 minutes.
4. Sprinkle the flour over the onions and cook, stirring, for 1-2 minutes, until the flour is well incorporated and lightly browned.
5. Gradually pour in the beef broth and Belgian beer, stirring to combine and scraping any browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Bring the mixture to a simmer.
6. Add the browned beef back to the pot along with the fresh thyme sprigs, bay leaves, mustard, brown sugar, and vinegar. Stir well to combine all ingredients.
7. Bring the mixture back to a simmer, then lower the heat to maintain a gentle simmer. Cover the pot with a lid, leaving it slightly ajar to allow some steam to escape.
8. Cook for 2 to 2.5 hours, or until the beef is tender and the sauce has thickened. Stir occasionally during cooking to ensure even cooking and to prevent sticking.
9. Once the beef is tender, remove the thyme sprigs and bay leaves. Taste the sauce and adjust the seasoning with salt and freshly ground black pepper as needed.
10. Serve the beef carbonnade hot, accompanied by mashed potatoes, egg noodles, or crusty bread to soak up the sauce.

Thanks for reading Feed The Muse! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.