A snowy- wintery night’s theatre
- Yue Gu
- Jan 28, 2018
- 2 min read

Upon our second visit to Chambre Separee, We’ve almost risked our lives.
11th December 2017, the first winter storm…
grinded highway traffic to a (messy) halt just as each year; the whole afternoon radio warned people off unnecessary road trips. Driving along slushy E40 from Leuven towards Ghent, I lamented on my recklessness earlier on when the restaurant staff called to confirm our attendance. ‘’of course we would still be coming’, I said without any undue hesitation. Now I felt utterly foolish and I suspect Felice felt no less.
Luckily we arrived rather unscathed.
Drinking marvellous Champaign from monsieur Beaufort while peeping the kitchen through half-drawn curtains, our spirit quickly lifted. At the centre kitchen, 1 protagonist &5 supporting roles self-directed and performed a play that’s intense, demanding and at times breathless.
That night the play started with one suspense after another:
A frothy broth made with little crabs screwed in their entity, whisked like Matcha: concentration
Unsung hero khohlrabi encountering imperial caviar, contrast
Hokkaido pumpkin and sea urchin, yet another flavour bomb
The next Act started with a kind of mellowness:
A turbot fillet, perfectly cooked served with winter vegetables
Garden salad on a tranquil pool of mussel broth
The climax of north-sea lobster caught us almost off-guard. The saline flavour of northsea awakened our so-jaded impression of lobster.
Finally the sweet but not cloying ending finished with somewhat nostalgic flavour of apple flan.
There’s no pin-down of the genre of Chambre Separee's cuisine. It’s a league of its own. Surely there’s eastern influence, Japanese Chinese and traces of Nordic or Peru , but there’s also something distinctively Kobe Desramaults, the era of ‘in de wulf’ is not bygone; if anything it in my opinion has been amplified with a heart-thumping music that’s now part of its more urban ambiance.
And with some luck once again, we arrived at home safe and sound around half past mid-night. ‘what a dinner!’ we both commented, staring for a moment motionlessly at the half-melted snow covering the path leading to our front door.

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