The tailors and bakers have long since departed the buildings named for their guilds. But The Brewers' House (10, Grand' Place, on the south side) is still the home of the Confederation of Belgian Brewers, the world's oldest professional association.

Some of the buildings fronting the Grand' Place have been turned into cafés. Le Roy d'Espagne (1 Grand' Place) is probably the best known. If you can squeeze into a table upstairs, you'll be rewarded with a view of the bustle below. Fair warning, though: café owners think tourists are as wealthy as the medieval guildsmen.

Just a few blocks beyond the Grand' Place, you can find establishments where the locals still gather and Belgian beer is the order of the day. One of the city's most famous cafés is a la Mort Subite (7, rue des Montagnes-aux-Herbes Potageres). The name, which means "sudden death" in English, comes from a dice game that was popular around 1910, when the café was built. Its decor has been described as "rococo boudoir," heavy on mirrors and old photographs. Though I'd been warned about grumpy waiters and chain smokers, I saw little evidence of either. What I did find were a few solitary drinkers, and families with well-behaved children in tow.

A la Mort Subite specializes in gueuze, a sour beer that's unique to the Brussels area. Gueuze is made from a blend of lambics, beers that have been fermented by wild yeasts in the air. More like wine than beer, gueuze is unlike anything you've tasted back home.

Another place to enjoy traditional gueuze is a la Becasse (11, rue Tabora). It isn't easy to find, as it's tucked away in a narrow alley. Look for a sign with the picture of a woodcock, the bird for which this café was named. Dating back to 1793, a la Becasse is a cozy place, where patrons enjoy beer and light snacks at long, shared wooden tables. The house beers, which come from a small brewery west of town, are still decanted in traditional stoneware pitchers.

Kriek, another member of the lambic family, is served here. Kriek is further fermented by the addition of cherries; in fact, its name comes from the Flemish word for "cherry." One word of caution: the last time I visited, I found out the hard way that a large glass of kriek is a one-liter mug. It'll set you back about $10...and put a serious crimp on further pub crawling. Really good, though.

Another celebrated drinking place not far from the Grand' Place is Le Falstaff (19-25, rue Henri Maus, just south of the Bourse, the city's former stock exchange). This busy establishment has an huge canopied patio, and plenty of seating inside in Art Noveau-style rooms. While it offers a good selection of draft beers, its main attraction is a pages-long menu of bottled beers covering nearly every style imaginable. Part of the fun of Belgian beer is its whimsical brand names, many with religious overtones. As I savored Forbidden Fruit, a chewy brown beer with more alcohol than some wines, other labels came to mind: Delirium Tremens; The Last Judgment; and, best of all, The Eleventh Commandment.

On the north side of the Bourse is another classic café, Le Cirio (18, rue de la Bourse). Like Le Falstaff, it offers a wide beer selection along with turn-of-the century ambience--aproned waiters and all. But its atmosphere is more sedate, which pleases the upper-middle-class townspeople who come here. Le Cirio, it is said, is one of the best places to observe that stereotypical Brussels habitué: "a woman of a certain age," carrying her attentive little poodle.

This article originally appeared on Suite101.com in January 2001.