Brouge Bistro and Belgian Beer Cellar

My visit to Brouge was littered with ifs, buts and maybes; had it been a cold winter’s night, I would no doubt have relished this cosy establishment with its cellar-like set up. Unfortunately though, I just felt a bit sweaty in the May heat.

Food wise, again had it been hibernating season, I’d have loved the hearty dishes on offer. I mean Friar Tuck would have a great time there. Instead, I just felt full. Very. And I didn’t over order.

So to start; I had the tempura prawns with chilli and coconut dip, while my brother Dom was pointed in the direction of the honey spiced Lambriek beer ribs with chilli and spring onion. Boy, the latter was naughty. So, so sweet, and better placed on the dessert menu, the ribs were moreish nonetheless. More than can be said for the prawns which were satisfactory at best. The dip dominated the dish; in my opinion dips should compliment not overpower.

And call me a serial nit-picker but I was mildly perturbed by the speed food arrived at our table. Marry that with the amount of time our done-with plates remained uncleared and me being pernickety is perfectly warranted. In the words of fictional favourite, Holden Caulfield, ‘it was killing me’.

The beer selection was a (rare) highlight, as was my very well battered and succulent Haddock. I had a bottle of ‘Delirium tremens’ with my meal – voted the best beer in the world in 1998 at the World Beer Championships in Chicago – I was pretty chuffed with my choice. My brother played it safe with a Steenebrugge Brune and went for the homemade steak, mushroom and Belgium ale pie. At least it had meat in abundance to nullify its lack of flavour; no one likes a meatless meat pie. Mains came with either stoemp (Belgium mash) or a bucket of frites. It was at this point that I, subtly of course, undid my belt a tad. The meal had turned into more an endurance test.

Come dessert, Dom was waving his napkin in the air; he had surrendered. With that in mind, we chose to share the chef’s special: Belgium waffles with chocolate sauce and ice cream. Annoyingly my ‘I’m too full I couldn’t possibly eat anymore’ brother did a tremendous job of gobbling up most of this joint venture. It was good. A touch on the sickly side though, essentially it didn’t set off any fire extinguishers or alarm bells in me. Had I been wearing a heart monitor, it would have been game over by now.

So Brouge in Richmond. Truth be told there are better places in London to eat. Yes, I’m implying Richmond isn’t in London. Don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely, beautiful even in parts, in the same way that Brouge is alright in parts; it’s taken the best bits of Belgium and made the most of it. Like an artist with a solitary colour on his palette though, Belgium’s palate is limited at best.

Brouge
Bistro & Belgian Beer Cellar
5 Hill Street
Richmond
TW9 1SX