At Parvis de Saint-Gilles there was a delightful organic ice-cream shop called Sikou. Every day they had a different range of flavours, from carrot-orange-cinnamon to lavender to macaron to (my favourite) salted caramel. They also served savory tarts and sandwiches, buckwheat crepes, waffles, organic soft drinks and beer. Plus, they had a nappy changing station and a children’s corner.

However, they mysteriously have been closed for the past month. Perhaps the owners are on vacation, but there is no note on the door. Please re-open Sikou so that I can once again taste your glace au caramel salé

Sikou
Parvis de Saint-Gilles 31
1060 Bruxelles

Currently closed

This recipe for spéculoos is inspired by that for Belgian Spice Cookies, however I used the mixed spéculoos spice blend found in the supermarket (coriander, 40% cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg) rather than the blend suggested in the original recipe (cinnamon, ginger, cloves)

2 cups all purpose flour
1 tablespoon spéculoos spice blend
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 cups (packed) dark brown sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 large egg

Give baby and bottle to husband. Combine first 4 ingredients in medium bowl. Beat brown sugar and butter in large bowl until hand becomes sore. Add egg and beat until bored. Throw it all together and mix until combined. Divide dough in half. Wrap with plastic; refrigerate until your husband can take care of the baby again.

Preheat oven to 180^oC. Cover baking sheets with baking paper. Roll out 1 dough piece and cut out shapes of your choice. Choose Berlin-themed shapes if attending a Kaffee und Kuchen afternoon. Also make heart shapes for husband. Arrange cookies on prepared baking sheets. Bake until edges begin to darken, about 8 minutes. Transfer cookies to rack and cool. Leave remaining dough piece in the fridge until ready to repeat the process.

(Can be made ahead. Store in airtight container at room temperature up to 1 week, or freeze up to 1 month.)

Today I ordered my first Starbucks coffee in Brussels. My tall decaf nonfat sugar-free vanilla latte to go, defined more by its absence than presence of components, was delivered to me in the ubiquitous cardboard mug. I was able to brandish it at my fellow commuters at Central Station in a grand celebration of globalism. In a delightfully arrogant move, the menu is completely in English, with only the words “bienvenue” and “welkom” scribbled on a blackboard to give any clues as to the location. I assume the philosophy is that “if you want to consume our products, then you will learn our language”. Judging by the line, many were willing (and able) to accept this proposition.

Now settled back in Europe. I might pay more for my consumer goods, and struggle to make myself understood at the bakery, and have to travel abroad to get to an Apple Store, but where else can I find pre-prepared escargots and frogs legs in my local supermarket? The same supermarket that has now extended its opening hours until a luxurious 8pm, six days a week.