We've kind of had cabin fever the last few weeks. To remedy this Kim planned a weekend in Maastricht. Maastricht is down south on a spit of land between Germany and Belgium (you can walk to Belgium). It is the Netherland's oldest city (50 B.C.), and has a reputation for good food. However she didn't pick Maastricht because it was a destination in and of itself, but because she discovered Camille Oostwegel's Kruisherenhotel.
Strangely, I've developed a thing for old cathedrals (or in this case an old "cloister") despite all the bothersome religion. Something about the grandness, the quiet, the austerity. The history. The massive effort it took to build them - sometimes over several generations - seems so ambitious. Also I like high ceilings and dramatic lighting. Another favorite is nice hotels.
The Kruisherenhotel is both. It combines the grandeur of an old cathedral (build in 1520) with the awesomeness of a boutique hotel. Luckily I have no religious guilt (an ancient house of minimalist piety converted to a luxury hotel?) Actually the design is simple, so the juxtaposition works.
The first day we walked around Maastricht's city center which is pretty similar to others we've visited (Amsterdam, Antwerp, Essen, Lille) with historic buildings, tree-lined squares and cobblestone streets. We stopped in a few shops and ate a decent lunch, but soon realized that all we really wanted to do was explore our gorgeous and fascinating hotel. So we did. The lobby, the courtyard, the winebar, the hallways.
Athough Maastricht has several renowned restaurants, we decided to dine at the hotel. A local food review site - which has yet to steer us wrong - recommended it. Plus it's located on an elevated platform in the middle of the monastery's main hall. "A" for Ambiance.
I could go into minute detail about the meal we had, reviewing every one of the five courses, but it would probably bore. Besides, I couldn't possibly convey the gastronomic extravagance properly. Suffice to say we ate things we rarely eat (venison, tarbot, orange cake), the presentation was mega-gourmet, the flavors unparalleled. Really. It blew our previous Paris meals away. We ate for over two and a half hours. We became professional foodies along the way. "The flavors are so... balanced! No one flavor overpowers... it's so simple yet so...not!" And other such geek attempts to explain how food could be this good.The next day we drove out to Chateau Neercanne, one of several owned and operated by Camille Oostwegel. The drive was short but interesting. You can see how old cities like this developed long before the automobile. The city center quickly transitions to suburban neighborhoods interspersed with still-active farm plots. Then just as quickly you're in full-on European countryside. On horseback (or by bike) Chateau Neercanne is no more than 20 minutes from town.
One of the coolest things about Neercanne is the marl caves, carved out when the hills were mined for building materials. They stay cool and so are used as a wine cellar and general cold storage. You can take your aperitif there but it's a bit dank so we opted for mimosas (so gauche, we had to explain how they were made!) in the dining room.
Lunch was similar to the previous night's dinner both in presentation and in excellentness (four-plus courses of such things as lobster, duck, sweetbreads, salmon tartar, and chorizo foam). However the dining room was much more traditional. They had an ever-so-perfect Maitre'd. There was a pianist. Crystal chandeliers and excessively ornate drapery. Kim and I, in our "urban" outfits, felt a wee bit like Billy Ray Valentine at the Heritage Club. We created alter egos that would explain how us fish had landed so far from our water. After rifling though rock star, songwriter ("I co-wrote Lady Gaga's Pokerface!") and talent agent, Kim landed on "I was a child genius working as a programmer for Microsoft in the early nineties. I got in on stock options on the ground floor." Feeling lazy from all the pampering, the thought of making my own (imaginary) fortune seemed exhausting. I decided to be an Heiress.After our ridiculous lunch we headed out of picturesque Maastrict and back to... well, also picturesque Amsterdam. We vowed to return in warmer weather, spurred by visions of country bicycle rides, chateau lunches and cocktail hours among spring's blooming gardens.
