Upon entry last night, the 'Belgian Bistro' on the ground floor was empty. Proceeding down the spiral staircase into the basement revealed a dimly lit hipsters' paradise (aka the 'Trappist Lounge') with imported quaff flowing by the centiliter and the inviting scent of twice-fried Belgian frittes warming up the air.
As ever the G1 cameraphone was up to the task, capturing the mood with suitably artistics tones and dream-like resolution.
We picked a table for waiter service and dined on plump, delicious mussels in a traditional mariniere beer broth accompanied by expertly done frittes with a wide array of epicurean mayos and ketchups for dipping.
And the beer's were terrific. I'm not up on the Belgian beer knoweldge enough to qualify it, but their menu of draughts and bottles was extensive to say the least and included literature and history on the variety and tradition of Monastic beer from Belgium. It was hard to choose, but then it was probably tough to go wrong and my special lady and I were both very happy with our beer choices.