A Tale of Two Pastas

Most hotel restaurants are not known for having the greatest food in the world, especially those associated with a chain. On a recent trip to Brussels, I had lunch in the hotel on the day I arrived because I was too tired to venture forth to discover the neighborhood. I will refrain from identifying the hotel in particular, but it's origins are connected with Washington DC and has an eponymous founder. I would not normally write about it, but the contrast between the pasta I had at this restaurant and another one I had at a place down-town is instructive.

First, I should have known better than to order a dish in November that features asparagus and morel mushrooms. Asparagus's season by the time November rolls around is a good six months gone in the Northern Hemisphere. Morels are also a spring and early summer harvest. So, I should have known better, but even setting aside the lack of freshness in the ingredient that would indicate less than flavorful results, basic seasoning was missing as well. The slivers of Parmesan cheese were waxy and tasteless, the cream sauce lacked salt, pepper, or anything to liven it up. I made it through about one quarter of the dish before giving up (why waste calories on tasteless food?).

Kwint, on the other hand, had a rich home-made pasta dish with pan-seared foie gras (okay, this makes having lots of flavor kinda easy) and truffle shavings, well-seasoned and served in a perfect portion. Matched with an opening course of smoked Scottish salmon with lemon pearls (that look like caviar) and fresh pepper, the meal was a wonderful way to cap off an afternoon of tramping about down-town Brussels in the rain. The restaurant has the added benefit of sitting atop a small rise overlooking the city center.

Now the comparison of these two pastas may seem a bit unfair, but given that the price of the two was comparable (22 Euro for the asparagus paste, 25 Euro for the foie gras), the difference in flavor, execution and presentation was astounding.