This was a cute little place right across the street from the world famous statue of a boy peeing into a fountain in the center of Brussels.  There was a big crowd of people milling around outside taking pictures and despite its nice appearance, I would have dismissed it as a tourist trap if it hadn’t been recommended by a friend who’d visited this winter.

Inside, the place is crazy with beer paraphernalia stacked on, and glued to, anything that doesn’t move, including the ceiling.  I understand there’s a puppet show downstairs, but we got there right before the show was going to start and there was no room.  So we had to content ourselves with lunch.  The menu was simple, with the usual cafe staples, but also had a lot of local cheese, and I was glad to get a chance to try some.  So I probably wouldn’t go there just for the food, but we didn’t have any trouble getting lunch for the kids.  If we planned ahead a little better and came in time to get seats for the puppet show, I imagine the kids would love it.

The beer menu was very impressive, with the best selection of lambic I’ve seen.  So we both had new Gueuze (Drie Fonteinen for me, Gueuze Tilquin a l’Ancienne for Wind).  They also had a good selection of Trappist and abbey beer, German beer, etc.  They even had the last beer on the list I made last year, that I hadn’t seen anywhere else.  So we might have to come back if we’re passing through Brussels again.

The last thing I’d mention is the service.  One of the things that struck me when looking at reviews of cafes and restaurants in Brussels is how often people complained about poor service.  So I was already thinking about this, and found our waitress very competent, but not friendly.  No smiles or chit-chat (did I mention the place was packed?).  But she patiently let me order in barely-passable French, even though it would have probably been easier for both of us if we’d switched to English.  Everything came as we ordered it, the beer was poured perfectly, and there were no other issues of any kind.  So I chalk up the service complaints to the standard cross-cultural problem of Europeans not smiling all the time and chumming it up with their patrons the way many Americans expect.