Welcome
You have noticed, as we have, that certain men move through the world as though it had been arranged for their comfort. They take the seat at the head of the table without checking whether it is taken. They tell the story badly and at length, and are thanked for it. They try things they are not good at, in public, and are called brave. They leave a room without explaining themselves.
We do not envy this so much as admire the efficiency. This club exists to borrow it.
The mission is short. Have fun. Be silly. Be yourself, in full, at whatever volume that happens to be. And do not apologize: not for the second glass, the loud laugh, the changed mind, the unfinished hobby, or the opinion about cheese. The apology is almost always a reflex, rarely a courtesy, and we are retiring it.
Our members have lived in several places and have opinions about all of them. Some are fluent in four languages and still mispronounce the same word on purpose. Some arrive with a plan, others with a bottle. What we share is a taste for the well-made thing, whether that is a pastry, a tapestry, a Bach cantata or a sharp turn at speed, and a refusal to take ourselves too seriously while taking the afternoon very seriously indeed.
We are not here to improve one another, and no one will be graded, although there may be an exam. We are here to learn something with our hands, eat something worth the trouble, laugh at the right moment, and go home slightly more ourselves than we arrived.
Come as you are, and leave without explaining.
— The Committee
Events
A tasting led by Convento, Leuven’s celebrated wine shop turned bistro, whose sommeliers delight in explaining the bottles and whose list has been ranked Belgium’s best by Star Wine List two years running. Held in the Veilingzaal, behind the Optimist on the old Vismarkt. Come thirsty. Opinions welcome, apologies not.
Coming Soon
Dates to follow, in due course and by discreet note.
A tasting beneath the streets of Brussels, among the excavated cellars and passages of the palace where dukes and emperors held court until it burned in 1731. Old stones, good glasses, and a considerable amount of history to be unimpressed by.
The Leuven pâtissière trained at Hof van Cleve and The Jane, known for a tarte au citron that people write reviews about. We would like to take the club through four of her sessions; these are the dates currently listed, and we will book as places allow. Sessions are in Dutch and usually include coffee, tea and a tasting.
- Bokkenpootjes · Tue 10 Nov, Thu 26 Nov (both fully booked at present)
- Beignets (Boules de Berlin) · Thu 5 Nov, Wed 25 Nov, Fri 11 Dec (all fully booked at present)
- Neapolitan pizza · Sat 14 Nov, 18:30–21:30 · Sat 12 Dec
- Sourdough with Miro Van Vreckem · Sat 19 Dec, 14:00–18:00 (a second session that day) · Sun 20 Dec
A communal cook-and-feast in the boodle fight tradition: everything laid out on one long table, eaten with the hands, no cutlery and no manners required.
An afternoon in the fifteenth-century refuge of Tongerlo Abbey, home to one of the world’s foremost tapestry restorers, where thousands of stitches go into a single piece. Patience will be provided; bring concentration.
Molten glass, a long pipe and your own breath. Expect lopsided results and fierce attachment to them.
Yes, there is an exam, and no, it is not a metaphor. Taken seriously, and then laughed about over a drink.
Controlled, precise movement under the soaring ceilings of a former chapel, converted by BVDL Architects into a studio. Strength, a little penance, and excellent acoustics.
Practical self-defence, taught without theatre. You will leave taller, and with a firmer handshake.
Lessons on skid cars, including driving while aquaplaning, followed by forest off-road driving on the proving ground’s test tracks. Control, braking and nerve, with the aim of a clean line rather than a fast one.
The follow-up for anyone who wishes to test the new skills: open driving on the most beautiful circuit in the world, at your own pace, with no stopwatch and no one to impress.
Flemish bagpipes in a drawing room, which is exactly as wonderful and as alarming as it sounds.
A week with Bach in a sixteenth-century castle of the Teutonic Order, now a Flemish cultural centre. Bring your voice, your instrument, or simply your ears, and pack enough patience to deal with the mercurial Greek conductor.
Members
Not who they married or whose daughter they are, but who they turned out to be.
Unhurried in a crisis and impatient in a queue. Listens to the end of every sentence, which unsettles people who are used to being interrupted. Has learned that most things heal if you keep them clean and leave them alone, and applies this to wounds, friendships and pelargoniums alike.
Notices the one crooked frame in a room and says nothing, then quietly straightens it on her way out. Keeps a notebook of overheard sentences. Believes a good question is worth more than a good answer, and asks hers so gently you find you have already told her everything.
Laughs first and loudest, especially at herself. Learned to read the weather before she learned to read people, and finds the skills largely interchangeable. Will drop anything to help you carry something heavy, and will tell you, cheerfully, that you are lifting it wrong.
Patient with trees, less so with committees. Plants things she will never see grow tall, and considers this the whole point. Holds strong opinions about apples, cider and the correct way to argue, which is warmly, at length, and with a second glass.
Precise about small things and generous about large ones. Took up the cello at fifty, plays it loudly and badly, and has never once apologised to the neighbours. Collects people who were told they were not good at something, and proves the teller wrong on their behalf.
Contact Us
We prefer to be written to, though we are not good at replying promptly.