Wednesday, September 23, 2015

THAT ONE GLASS OF MORT SUBITE I HAD IN BRUSSELS

Maybe I was already deeply under the sway of the anti-sugar lectures of my cranky Cantillon tour guide, but my experience at A LA MORT SUBITE, the famous Brussels beer bar/brasserie, later that day was pretty jarring. This is the place Michael Jackson wrote so worshipfully about; it wasn't even on my agenda until I saw its neon sign beckoning me after dinner, so I said, What the hell. When in Brussels, am I right?

Honestly, this place seems to me to be place to hustle tourists in & out of, and/or for large groups of business people to come to after work to make merry. Ambiance was a little, uh, lacking. But I reckoned a nice glass of MORT SUBITE "PECHE" would get things right, as it was on draft, and per the Belgian style, served in appropriate glassware (which is a nice dorkified touch that I've always secretly enjoyed). Yet this super-sweet peach lambic was a syrupy, sugary, foamy juice box of a beer, really closer to a peach kombucha or something I'd pack in my kid's lunch than something I'd actually want to, you know, drink. Regardless of what Mr. Anti-Sugar at Cantillon thinks, this "Peche" truly is halfway around the globe from his own beers despite actually being nearly down the street. While it really feels like I'm rating something from the Minute Maid corporation, I'm going with a 5/10.

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