
Belgium could be the only country in the world famous for not being famous. Simon Jacy discovers that this proudly mediocre nation has one overlooked strength – food.
Judge from outside and you could be very misled by La Patate’s bright neon and clear glass frontage. The décor, a bold mix of yellow and red, is striking to say the least, though the quirky setup bears little relation to the cuisine. For those who see the sum total of Belgian culture as Poirot with a dash of Jean Claude Van Damme, there is a complementary education on the walls awash with classic Belgica, including obscure Tin Tin covers like Ciagres du Pharon and other eclectic comic book art. A photo of the proprietor with his arms around Matt Dillon and Gerard Depardieu during the shooting of City of Ghosts has pride of place.
While the menu concepts are as simple as the cartoons on display, the dishes are cooked to perfection. The passion for simple, peasant food prepared well shouts much more loudly than the garish colour scheme. The menu – with more space devoted to trivia about Belgian comic strips like the Smurfs, Gaston, and Boule et Bill than to descriptions of the food – is refreshingly light on pretension and has English language descriptions alongside the French.
The Fillet de Boeuf (US$9) is served Belgian style, thick and tall to seal in the juices. For once, the chef actually listens to his patrons – a medium rare steak will be ruby red inside, with every cut liberating a trickle of blood. The delectable, viscous sauces – including ardenais, archiduc, estragon, forestiere and green pepper (US$1.50), as well as the pungent roquefort (US$3.50) – receive the same attention.
All main courses come with a choice of creamy mashed potatoes, pasta or Belgium’s famed pomme frites. These are deep fried in sunflower oil to give authentic crispy fries that are even served in a branded cone, just like on the continent. A small salad of sharp pickles is the ideal palate cleanser, and the red cabbage is good enough to be a stand alone dish – a side that will please even the most demanding Belgians
Although skinfints might moan about prices that are slightly higher than elsewhere, the quality here blows away even much more expensive restaurants. Low income earners like English teachers will probably plump for the set menus – Tagliatelle Bolognaise, a glass of wine or beer, and a Tarte Aux Pommes Maison for $8.50 is a deal that’s hard to beat.
Special praise must be reserved for the onion soup, currently a special. This clear culinary success that would be well-received in a European capital, never mind Cambodia. Tangy with crunchy croutons and rich globules of melted cheese that are almost indistinguishable from the soft onions, this is everything you ever wanted from an onion soup and more. Incredible.
Regional specialities like tongue are more of an acquired taste but equally well prepared. Braised tongue, a notorious difficult dish to get right, is cooked in a rich stew with thick chunks of bacon and thick cut mushrooms for a treat that harks back to the days of serfs (or perhaps smurfs) toiling in the low, flat Belgian fields. The tongue, a meat that usually tends toward chewy, is so soft and succulent that it can be sponged up with bread.
The desserts again showcase La Patate’s devotion to robust, satisfying home cooking. The Tarte Aux Pommes Maison is chewy and caramelized on the bottom, the sweetness of the sugar not overpowering the delicate flavour of the apples. A reasonably priced kids’ menu means that La Patate is a good pick for families, and bored children will be easily distracted by the wealth of colourful art.
Hard-driven parents can relax with another of Belgium’s famous exports – beer. A wide array of hop juices are on offer, from dark Duval (US$4), to the cloudy but surprisingly clear tasting Hoegarden (US$3.50). Leffe Blond and Brune (US$3.50), and the rare-in-Cambodia Trappiste Chimay (Rouge $4.50, Bleu US$5) complete a beer lover’s wish list. Hooligans and philistines will probably choose the unimaginative wife beater’s favourite, Stella Artois, which at US$1.50 is the cheapest import.
The service, efficient without being pushy, rounds off a memorable meal. Heartily recommended.