Belgian Waffles = The One That Got Away

If you've spoken to me in the last week, chances are you've heard about Saturday, 26 November 2011, my incredible and never-to-be-repeated day of FOOD PERFECTION. Everything I ate was insanely delicious--quite easily the best of each food I've ever eaten or ever will eat in my life.  I kid you not, this was the closest there will ever be to Food Nirvana. This day of Food Perfection was brought to you by:

Belgium

Last weekend I got an almost-free trip to Brussels for training at the EU, sponsored by the Scottish National Party. (Just one more reason Scotland is great.) Belgium's a nice place, though there's not much to see. The food, however, makes it all worth it. Here's how my day of absolute Food Perfection went down.

10:00- Wake up, because I'm on vacation baby.

11:15- Food perfection begins. 

If you see this sign, STOP. This place is your friend.

On the way to the train station we stopped at a little bakery called Lowy and picked up my first Belgian waffle. Now you may be thinking to yourself, as I was, "what's so special about Belgian waffles? I can just make these in my waffle maker at home." If you're thinking that, you're absolutely wrong.

So I get this waffle, and it's a little hard and there's nothing on it. Naturally, I expect it to be kind of bland and possibly tough. Boy was I wrong. I take a bite into this thing, and my mouth is in absolute ecstasy. The hard exterior has a nice crunch, and the inside basically melts in my mouth. But wait, there's more! Inside of the waffle are small sugar crystals that sweeten it just the right amount to give it flavour without being overpowering. My mouth could not believe that something this great was going on inside of it.

2:00- Arrive in Bruges, an adorable Flemish town. Spend the afternoon in the Christmas market. Experience Parts 2, 3, and 4 of Food Perfection.

My crazy travel buddies. In Bruges.

Part 2- A Bratwurst from a stand in the Christmas market with carmelised onions on top. Not only were the onions divine, but when I bit into the casing on the bratwurst, the inside literally fell apart in my mouth in an aromatic swirl of spices and insanely tender meat. SO. GOOD.

Part 3- Bought a cup of hot chocolate. Easily the best cup of hot chocolate I've ever had-- creamy, frothy, Belgian chocolate, enough said.

Part 4- Another Belgian waffle, because one clearly wasn't enough. There were no sugar crystals inside, but it was topped in strawberries and chocolate, and the waffle melted in my mouth. Divine. 

If you couldn't tell, I'm kind of obsessed with Belgian Waffles. Maybe I ate 4 in less than 48 hours, maybe I didn't, but when it's that delicious it can't be bad for me, right? It's okay to fall madly in love when you're on holiday in a foreign country, even if food is the object of your affection. I don't see anything wrong with that.

FOOD PERFECTION COMPLETE.

I can now die in peace.

The only other food or drink I had that day was a bottle of Disney's Happy Kids sparkling apple juice given to me as a joke by friend and intern wannabe, Paul, who finds my non-alcoholic ways strange and amusing. Maybe not perfection, but still a tasty and entertaining gesture.

This isn't Paul-- this is Iain, my pal and de facto Belgium mom since he was the only one who had a clue where he was going.

This is Paul.

And this basically sums up the rest of Belgium.

"...And This Is Our Government?"

What do you have when a bunch of drunk Scots get together in the Highlands?

This.

This weekend I went to Inverness, capital of the Highlands, for the annual SNP Conference. It was good times when all you had to do was yell "independence!" or "Scotland!" to get everyone cheering.  Then there was some good awkward clapping to the beat for far too long when they would play this treasure of a song:

All in all, it was a fascinating weekend. I learned a ton about Scotland and its political values and why Scotland really should become independent (they have a ton of resources and get almost nothing back, to name one thing). But most of all, I learned that karaoke nights with the SNP are great fun.

 

This guy, a Member of Scottish Parliament
(MSP), dressed up in an Elvis costume for his
performance. It was perfect.

This guy, another MSP, did a hilarious screaming rendition of
 Should I Stay or Should I Go, complete with ridiculous
old-school dance moves. He got a standing O.

Both of these guys work on my floor. I will never look at them the same way again. PARLIAMENT ROCKS.

On a whim, I sang R-E-S-P-E-C-T by Aretha Franklin in honor of the interns. I think it worked, because a staffer who previously tried (and failed) to make me bring him food promised to bring me ice cream next week. Look who's doing the slave labor now! WIN.

And to end the night on an interesting note, I got hit on by a drunk guy who thought my outfit made me look like a Nazi. Then he told me it looked good on me. I'm not sure whether I should be more worried that I looked like a Nazi or that he found that attractive. He really knows how to win a girl over.

Most importantly, though, I got a foot-long tube of digestives for a pound, which in case you're unaware, is an AWESOME deal. Good weekend.