The country is freezing, and in unrelated news: if I stay too long I’ll have to eat the ones I love.
Spring is waiting for something this year. It’s the first time Belgium has had this much snow in mid-March since 1952, it’s the coldest March (23rd at least) since 1873, and the big storm a couple weeks ago led to a record length of 1,038 miles of traffic jams during rush hour (which, by my rough google maps calculations, is enough to span the length of Belgium upwards of five times).
Personally I think Spring is being polite, and waiting until we install the blinds on the full-length bathroom windows so that when the neighbors return to their backyards they won’t be able to chat with us while we’re in the shower.
“Is that fresh lemonade? Can I have some? Let me just finish shampooing real quick, as you can see, I’m almost done.”
The house may be under construction (which doesn’t bother me in the slightest), but I consider it a lottery win to have found. Not only is it nice inside, good location, and a great roommate/owner, it also has chickens. Because Belgians do that.
And not just any chickens! These are two Chinese silkies who are nearly never more than a meter apart, have curious personalities, and have promised me eternal love in exchange for the wax rind of the gouda cheese that I eat large quantities of. I adore them already, but these are not just pets and if I stay too long I’ll have to eat them.
I give them different names every time I see them. Today they are Agnes and Maurice. Yesterday they were Mortimer and Maximilian. I have no idea their genders.
But for now I am enjoying my walks around our new hometown of Lier. There is a rather impressive public swimming pool complex with a normal lap-swim pool, sauna, Turkish steam bath, and four other pools of various temperatures and currents for kids the kids; the open Grote Markt central plaza is all repaired after a plumbing project last year found remains of a Roman chariot; and the library has a reading cafe where I sat for a few hours with the English-language guide book for Sri Lanka I found.
In other news, I am now going to Sri Lanka.
But first, it’s chilly strolls in my boots (which do not travel with me, despite being made for walking), periodic indulgences in Belgian food (fries of course, plus beer-based beef stew, dark chocolate, and a tasty homemade rabbit stew, and Luikse waffles asap), and the upcoming spectacle of K’s ridiculously adorable niece hunting for Easter eggs.
We’ll just have to see how much ice there is on Sunday before deciding whether the hunt is indoors or out.
This may be slightly off topic, but your mention of rabbit stew and beer got me thinking about beer soup, which led to Welsh Rabbit. Despite the fact that you are not now in the snowy northern Europe you were in when this post was written, I hope you find the joy of the following 19th century options:
–To make a Scotch rabbit, toast the bread very nicely on both sides, butter it, cut a slice of cheese about as big as the bread, toast it on both sides, and lay it on the bread.
–To make a Welch rabbit, toast the bread on both sides, then toast the cheese on one side, lay it on the toast, and with a hot iron brown the other side. You may rub it over with mustard.
–To make an English rabbit, toast the bread brown on both sides, lay it in a plate before the fire, pour a glass of red wine over it, and let it soak the wine up. Then cut some cheese very thin and lay it very thick over the bread, put it in a tin oven before the fire, and it will be toasted and browned presently. Serve it away hot.
–Or do it thus. Toast the bread and soak it in the wine, set it before the fire, rub butter over the bottom of a plate, lay the cheese on, pour in two or three spoonfuls of white wine, cover it with another plate, set it over a chafing-dish of hot coals for two or three minutes, then stir it till it is done and well mixed. You may stir in a little mustard; when it is enough lay it on the bread, just brown it with a hot shovel.
P.S. I love the chicken naming game. It speaks to your wit and to some memories of my heart.
LikeLike
I had no idea what any of those were prior to this comment. Thank you for expanding my obscure knowledge yet again! I salute you with a cote of rollers!
LikeLike