I went to bed feeling dirty Sunday night. Not even the two handfuls of raisins I crammed into my mouth on the way to bed could help my body readjust....I was a gonner...it was all over. I actually ate the junkiest food of all time last night - And, unlike my very vague memories of Alia and I eating Big Macs that actually tasted good, this 'thing' tasted wretched...maybe, I have gone too far onto the dark side of the lettuce leaf to enjoy the nuances of trash food, either way - blah. It started out as an innocent pre-show-bite-to-eat on the Turkish-restaurant-bloated street that is situated a stone's throw from the most amazing music venue I have ever been to - otherwise known as the Botanique. But, what I thought would bring a tear of Arabesque-memories to my eye, turned into a meal that I would just as soon forget - savouring only the look of horror on K's face when he realized that he had brought me to what was my anti-world.....it was FINE...just funny...really, really funny. I enjoyed the whole experience through a lens of "what the hell is this?"

K ordered me a Falafel Pita, but what I got was a really dodgie flat bread wrapped around a mess of: 1. corn 2. cabbage 3. more cabbage 4. something that might have been a falafel ball 5. (get ready) FRENCH FRIES. I plucked most of them out - but then realized I was being an ass, and just dove in. It wasn't the most satisfying 'almost' middle easternish food I have ever had, nor did I get off the stairmaster after my usual 45 minutes today.....but it was food, and it was funny and it was a great pre-show experience that started an evening that only progressed into something else.

We bought our tickets at the door, and joined about 200 other people on a series of descending steps to take in (NOT watch, listen to, or enjoy, but TAKE IN) Blanche. This wacky (in the most dictionary definition of wacky) fivesome is derviative of nothing and everything all at the same time. There is no stamp that you could throw over this band in a world where we float so easily to labels of comfort like: indie, new country and hip hop. These nuts were having none of it. They were a thrift store collection of different pulp culture iconography, starting with the dark, brooding (really cute) rimmed glasses, uber nerd bango player - who had a mic stand complete with an Edgar Allan Poe raven. Think Toby McGuire from Spider Man with a jet black wig and an undertaker's suit - got that image? You got him. On the opposite side of the stage sat a slide playing gym teacher - seriously, he looked like Mr. McColman from Grade 7 gym wearing Uncle John's tartan suit from Christmas 76. Yikes. But, he did wicked vocals on a 'get the crowd rocking' number called: I Can't Sit Down. The two love birds in the middle were images of the marriage I have always really wanted - a ten foot firey red head and a totally spastic Lyle Lovett impersonator. Hot. The drummer was actually a spitting image of a slimmed down Rosie O'Donnel - complete with the mullet.

The gig included more that your average crowd/band banter - the whole language issue popped up "Merci Buckets...." etc. But it was the bands faux deep south accent that threw me off.....when they kept mentioning their home town of Detroit it was just too hard for me to suspend my imagination. Their lyrics were actually quite well done, and included an array of topics: fall leaves, the shitey labour conditions of Detroit city, and the crumbling walls of a relationship filled with mistrust.

I was really enamoured with the quality of music, and overjoyed with the raw drums and the hivey/jivey bango. John Miller, the husband and poppa, of this little family has a great set of lungs and shakes and shivers like the best evangelical minister you could ever ask for. I wasn't overly impressed with his wife. Her vocals seemed to peeter out and hide behind the bigger voice of her partner and the pounding of Rosie.....I stand behind this musical criticism no matter where Kevin thinks my critical eye is coming from....as if Kevin.

Great band - would totally see them again. I left with a fear though - their music has a really super duper marketable quality to it. I can see the song I'm Sure of It heading the same way as Nick Drake's Pink Moon...a la VW commercials. And that would just blow. They are too weird to be incorporated into that whole muck....but I suppose that is part of what makes it inevietable.

On another note, I just had my last meal in Brussels for the next five days - salad, chick peas and grilled veg. Yum. I am off to Manchester and a family who has never known a vegan. Jesus. I hate stressing people out. Yikes. I hear they have wireless on the island, so I will be sure to keep everyone posted.

What is the vegan cowgirl eating right now?

Well, my computer keys are a bit slick with the olive oil that just happens to be offering a nice sheen to my finger tips - olives in citron. And of course what would a beautiful fall Sunday morning (when I am actually finding myself busy with work) be without some yummy Caviar d' Aubergines - just some pureed Eggplant with some lemon juice. I have been scooping and scrapping with Bosto's Rice Toasts....Yum.

But today's little gastro-break is nothing compared to the meal we had last night. We started at ROXI, which was almost a bad idea because the second I had the first glass of red I was ready to head back home. But, luckily there was some convincing done and a walk through the streets of ex-pat wonderland brought us to Chee de Waterloo where we found the open doors of L'Element Terre. It advertises itself as: Cuisine Vegetarienne, but they need to amend this to say: Fishetarian. There is loads of scampi and co. on the menu. Despite the fish frying in the back room, there was a bountiful (especially for Brussels) choice for vegans.

One can start with an Entrees (for Canadians this is the appetizer...not the main), a fresh juice or a nice glass of herbal tea - your choice. We shared some little sausage patties (made with lentils and cilantro) that were laying on a little bed of diced tomatoes.

We ordered two separate main dishes - K had the house special for the evening which was a rather large Seitan Steak covered in a heavy mushroom sauce. The presentation of this plate was quite antithetical to the rest of the atmosphere - which was all very 'we went to Africa and a couple of rain forests and brought back this aesthetic and a couple of photos'. The steak was laid out on a HUGE clear glass plate and was accompanied by a large pyramid of basmati. The rice was sitting beside some diced cabbage and a roasted Belgian Endive. The presentation seemed a little bit like a weird three way marriage between French-Japanese-Belgian plating. Funny. K was more enamoured with the sauce and shrooms than he was with his first introduction to the wide world of Seitan.

I ordered a wonderful Maroccan dish called: Tarjine de Rabat. It was loaded with courgettes, aubergines, onions, tomatoes and some amazing herbs.....It was served in a clay pot on a heaping pile of great couscous, which had been cooked with raisins (Angelique LOVES raisins). Two really different from La Luna, but equally as good (ok, maybe even a little better) falafel balls sat atop this totally satisfying dish.

The night for K was capped off with a slice of homemade tart (pear, peach and apricot), which he claimed was quite tasty.

On the walk home we were tempted by some Chilean wine, which went perfectly with the Felice Brothers and Blanche (who we are heading to see tonight)

Waking up this morning was an amazing experience. Despite my cold, despite the clouds - everything was right with the world. Maybe it was the wacky frogs in the bathroom last night. Maybe it was the wine? Whatever it was.....it's working. Horray for mornings.