Cuberdons
Throughout summer, carts laden with tiny translucent cones appear at every market square in Belgium. These carts, often manned by elderly gentlemen, stock piles of cones that look like mounds of modelling clay. “Cuberdons are made by hand with lavender flowers; you put them in an oven and leave it for three days,”one of the cart owners tells me. “The candy is also called neuzeke, or little nose,” he adds.
Some say a clergyman living near Bruges first made cuberdons, others say its origin is French, but they all agree that its recipe is a secret guarded by the Belgians. “Biting off the top and sucking out the syrup is the classic way to devour a cuberdon, resulting in a volcanic explosion of liquid raspberry-scented sugar.
“In my school time, we used to sneak money to buy these,” says Fracios Flament, my friend and guide here. I pick one and bite the top off; the sweetness is overpowering, the juice inside is thick, the crust is chewy. It’s nothing like I have eaten before, and yet it is surprisingly satisfying.
Cherry beer
Talk of fruit beer and all you are reminded of is apple juice infused with CO2, at least to those who grew up in the 90s. But in Belgium, you really experience what fruit beer means. While beer of every possible kind flows through the veins of Belgium, it is the cherry beer here that will steal your heart. Tart, sweet and heady, this concoction comes in two variants: one with added sugar and the other without it.
“In Brussels, you must try Kriek, our local beer produced with sour cherries. It is dry and tart, and you’ll really like it,” John, my host in Brussels tells me when I ask for recommendations. It is probably important to add that I hate beer otherwise, but I really wanted to give it a go in Belgium. Kriek turns out to be rather nice. It is fizzy, sour and dry. It leaves a lingering after-taste on the palate that has you asking for more. Pair it with some egg and ham pizza and you are set for a long night ahead.
Waffles
Sweet, savoury, freshly made, garnished with sinful toppings or just plain — waffles are everywhere in Belgium. The real waffle is neither sweet, nor savoury. It is an airy bread of sorts that gets its mild flavour from the special ale-yeast. “We don’t add anything to our waffles. It is only for the tourists that some places sell them with large quantities of toppings.”
At Waffle Factory, a place highly recommended for its freshly prepared waffles, Paul, a local, tells me that Brussels has a waffle named after the city. We find two kinds of waffles here. One is slightly bready, made with yeasty dough, and filled with cheese and ham to make a sandwich out of it; the other is made with a runny batter and is served with powdered sugar or chocolate sauce. The waffle turns out to be soft and airy; crisp outside, slightly chewy inside and has a slight sweetness, thanks to the yeast. The sandwich waffle is soft but has a bite to it, the melted cheese and tender ham add body to it. Together, they make the perfect combination.
