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Belgium seems like a
fun country. They love their beer and french fries. I love my beer
and french fries. They dig mussels. I have learned recently to dig
mussels--dig as in like, not dig as in shovel. Seems like a match
made in heaven. Markt helps add to the love affair with its large,
dark space, lively crowd and beautiful bartenders. Tables full of
early-thirty-somethings speak loudly over their buzzes and tiered
mussel trays. The long bar attracts a young, after-work crowd and
serves up a bunch of Belgian beers on tap. While it's not always the
easiest thing in the world to get a drink, the people watching couldn't
be any better. We're not really sure what the basic differences are
between French and Belgian cuisines, but they seem awfully similar
to us. The difference? French food is usually good. That's right;
with all the praise of the space and the crowd, the food itself was
a disappointment. It just seems, I don't know, shriveled, not robust.
The skate was just blah. The mussels were deemed "fair."
The other entrees were "uninspired but passable." The good
part? We were so stinking drunk that everything tasted like Leffe
by the time we got half-way through the meal. [MF]
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