Strawberries and Sunshine
On the way to work, I usually pick up my melon salad at the Metroshop just off the De Broukere metro. Then I zig zag over to my office making a special zag over to the croissant shop. This morning, as I turned the corner of the Anglican church on Rue Neuve, I smelled a wave of sweetness in the air. The kind of sweetness that tells you summer is here. Ah. Fresh, juicy sweet Strawberries from Wepion.Wepion is a small village in a valley about 1 hour south of Brussels. It is surrounded by fertile farmland between the historic Ardennes towns of Namur and Dinant. The Meuse and Lesse rivers flow from the Ardennes mountains through the valley here. All along the rural highway, there are small white shacks with hand-painted strawberry signs propped along the safety lanes. There's even a strawberry museum - I think it's in Anhee just before Dinant.
These strawberries are not the bland, dry, artificial mini-boulders that are flown in from Spain. These are medium-sized, gems of sweetness just bursting with juice. The juice tastes like nectar laced with honey - followed by a sweet puckery berry punch. The actual flesh of the fruit smells as if it's been toasted in the sun - and is a deep, dark cherry colour. These are strawberries that you slurp. Phenomenal.
How lucky am I to be sitting with a box of Wepion strawberries on my desk? Sitting with the sun shining on me as I work - a light breeze. Very lucky indeed.
Update on Dad:
Touch and go - he's eating marginally more. In very small small bites. If he can get his hiccups under control, he can eat more and go home - possibly Friday. A male nurse from Cuba who wheels Dad down for his radiation treatment told Dad his Mom's cure for the hiccups: Tear off a piece of newspaper, wet it in water, and stick it to your forehead. Righto...this is where we are with this whole hiccups thing. Scary.
An angel has arrived in Washington, a dear family friend who is between jobs. His wife is with the State Department stationed in Mexico City - she sent her husband to DC to support Mom and Dad. Besides being a very close - loyal and wonderful friend to my parents, Daniel is a classically trained French Chef (was sous chef at the Jockey Club when they lived there) and a dog lover. My parents are in great hands. I am so thankful. Right now, Dad is probably talking to Anne-Marie, the staff nurse from Vietnam - sitting there with a bit of newspaper stuck to his forehead - it works for him you know....
posted by Brussels Confidential @ 12:40 PM
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