(Credit: Jessica Novak)
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Before I could pour one out for the long-gone club and its $0.25 bottle night (God rest its soul), I was shocked by the café's bright, clean and downright pretty decor. Was I really standing in the exact place where bulletproof vests and hooker hoop earrings used to be essentials?
At this point, purchasing brunch for less than $10 seemed unlikely.
Since only tables for large parties remained unoccupied, my boyfriend and I sat at what seemed like a formal dining room table with enough seats for the Camden clan from "7th Heaven." From our chairs, we peered at delicate dish sets and armoires in the café's sister store, Eclectic Elements.
A large chalkboard lists the café's crepes in two categories: savory and sweet. Fortunately, paper menus near the register saved me the embarrassment of continuing to squint at the blue and yellow writing obscured by sunlight beaming in through the front window.
The young girl at the counter listened (or at least fooled me with her eyebrows) as I listed the pros and cons of nearly every crepe; there are 17 total. (I blame "When Harry Met Sally" for allowing me to believe complicated ordering is acceptable and possibly cute.) After much debate, I ordered the Nutella crepe to contrast my partner's unadventurous pick: the ham, egg and Cheddar cheese crepe—the most popular choice according to the cashier.
It takes time and skill to craft the perfect crepe, so I spent half of my lengthy wait watching one of the chefs pour and prod buttery batter around a flat, circular hot plate. She didn't mind me staring through the partition as long as I didn't shove the gawker beside me—a toddler benefitting from an under-arm hoist. Lucky brat.
Back at my table, after a wait long enough to finish a velvety, yet strong latte, our server appeared with a huge smile and our plates.
Dish: Crepes hold their contents well. The ingredients stayed inside their gently scalded, buttery casings no matter how much my hungry partner and I fork-wrestled the tightly folded meal.
The ham, egg and cheese came with a side salad—made of dark greens tossed with a light balsamic house dressing—that perfectly balanced the crepe's sweet flavor and the egg and ham's smoky taste. The crepe's only drawback was its lack of melted, gooey Cheddar.
The Nutella, filled with the trademarked chocolate and hazelnut paste, was dolled up with thick lines of even more Nutella, topped off by powdered sugar. It was too rich for me to finish even half. The dark brown goop stuck to the roof of my mouth and made me wish I ordered from the savory side of the menu, or at least bought several more $2 apple juices.
Damage: The café's deals aren't that impressive, but the crepes were filling and cheaper than expected. The ham, egg and cheese crepe was $6.95; the Nutella crepe was $4. For $1 more you can add extra ingredients like mushrooms, shrimp, chicken, raspberries or peanut butter. My latte was $3.
Decision: The café offers a nice break from diners and fast food. I wouldn't pamper a hangover here, but then again, I don't think this sophisticated spot is intended for those still slightly drunk mornings after. Rather, I would start a "pretty nice little Saturday" nibbling on a crepe before swinging by Home Depot or going antiquing. You know, if there's enough time.
