Belga is a bit of what we like to call an “Anchorman 2 situation.”
The people who made it (the team behind go-to spots Beretta and Delarosa) are smart, savvy craftsmen who created an enduring and beloved experience on their first endeavor. So naturally, a sequel sounded like a good idea. The team could have done it up Hangover-style, essentially recreating the original, just in a different, slightly more remote location. Probably would have worked out. But instead, they went the Anchorman sequel route: make something that everyone’s pumped for, but then make it different, and also significantly worse. Even Baxter is bummed.
If the full tables and buzz around Belga are any indication, we’re not the only ones who had high hopes for the restaurant. A new Belgian bistro on Union Street serving mussels, beer and fries doused in mayonnaise sounded great. Especially considering the owners’ past successes, and the fact that Des Amis, the former restaurant in the space, was straight-up terrible.
Unfortunately, Belga doesn’t live up to our expectations: service has been slow on our visits, and the food is highly unmemorable. Like, sorry I fell asleep trying to tell you what I ate. We know you’re new Belga, but you’re up for a 7X7 ‘Best New Restaurant’ pick. Step up the game, or we will kick you out of the Eurozone faster than Greece can say “We have many, many stray cats here.”
Belga’s best dishes are those most reminiscent of the Italian plates at Beretta, while the new Belgian stuff, like mussels, fall flat. If the Ron Burgundy ain’t broke, don’t fix it, we guess.
While we can respect an attempt to diversify the neighborhood food options, we are going to have a hard time eating another meal at Belga. The kitchen is just not quite there yet. Hitting the bar for a beer or two, absolutely. Or maybe a scotchy, scotch, scotch.
Allegedly these also involved garlic, shallots and whitbier. Tasted like they were steamed in water. No thanks.
It’s smoked fish, it’s pretty good, and the seeded bread with it is tasty. Maybe get this and a beer and call it a day?
This is a decent piece of chicken, but considering that basically every restaurant within 50 miles is obligated by their landlord to serve an above average chicken dish, this is toward the bottom of the barrel.
Comes with grilled tomato and a white bean mash. The sausage is passable, but the sides are bland as hell.
Best thing we’ve had at Belga. Roasted or fried to brown, crispy perfection with soft, golden raisins. Salty magic.