bocconi

set within the grandeur of hotel amici, a stone’s throw away from grand place and its throngs of camera toting tourists, bocconi offered a quiet spot for an early sunday lunch. having just picked y up from gare midi, we settled upon brunch at bocconi and were expecting to eat our way through a promising sunday brunch buffet, we were disappointed to find out that the service of sunday brunch would resume only in September. it had started raining again and we were far too lazy to traipse all the way to the Conrad instead, so we stayed.
and I’m glad we stayed. I could possibly have eaten three helpings of the calamari ink taglioni with king prawns and cherry tomatoes in a lobster sauce. each forkful evoked happy vibes of tingly pleasure – the taste of the sea espoused in the savouriness of the smooth black taglioni compounded with the richness of the lobster infused cream sauce, foiled perfectly against the sweet acidity of the cherry tomatoes and the plumpness of the prawns. happy vibes of tingly pleasure.

y let me have many mouthfuls of the beef carparccio she started with and the absolutely scrumptious chanterelle risotto she had for a main. the thinly sliced beef carpaccio came with lashings of pecorino and a drizzling of fresh pesto. the chanterelle risotto was richness personified – the luxurious velvetiness of the rice grains, the meatiness of the large chunks of chanterelles – guilty bliss not usually associated with a meat-free dish.

we shared a tiramisu for pudding – the usual affair of espresso soaked sponge layered with mascarpone and cocoa jazzed up with the accompaniment of a shot of espresso granita and a very agreeable amaretto .

as we finally left bocconi, y said that hotel amici used to be a prison – gruesome beginnings for what is probably now one of brussel’s finest hotels where rock stars and politicians stay the night. if prison grub was anything like what we had for lunch, I’d happily be incarcerated there.