We stood at the bookstore and thumbed through the Charlotte magazine until we came to the article that promised to tell us the best 25 restaurants in town. I skimmed over the article; all the usual suspects were present but they were all screaming cocktails and dinner. Seth looked on over my shoulder, the expression on his face echoing my own thoughts. It was Sunday, about 12:30 pm and we wanted something good, not too heavy but not too light. He is a meat-eater and I like my veggies the best. I suggested Fern, a new veggie-only eatery in Midwood and he said simply, “That’s not for me,” We stood there going back and forth about meat vs. veggies. I pointed out that in my own personal opinion; it takes a lot of talent to prepare veggies in an interesting and creative way when you don’t have the meat to “lean on”. He shrugged and called me picky and I informed him that I wasn’t picky but that I liked my food to be like art, lovingly created by someone who gives a damn.
We put the magazine back down and turned away, slightly discouraged. My face held a squinty expression as I tried my hardest to remember the bazillion restaurants in Charlotte that I wanted to try but I was getting nothing. I was tempted to just go to one of my usual haunts, Soul Gastrolounge or Crisp. My stomach growled loudly and just as I was about to give in, Seth said, “What about Crepe Cellar in NoDa?” My face lit up and I hopped a little with excitement. Mr. Handsome Pants had remembered that I had once mentioned wanting to go there. Crepes; light or heavy, stuffed with meat or veggies--freaking brilliant! He smiled down at me, slightly amused by my reaction as we made our way out of the bookstore and to the car with renewed purpose.
We drove slowly down the main drag (or the only drag) of NoDa and looked for parking. We ended up on a side street, two blocks away from the Crepe Cellar. We walked past the colorful buildings that housed everything from bars and art galleries to yoga studios and modern condos. We arrived at the door, not knowing what to expect---it just seems you’re never sure what is going on in NoDa’s colorful and varied structures. Always the southern gentleman, Seth opened the door for me and we were greeted with a small dining area that was mostly full. The inside of the restaurant was a mix of pub and diner. The tables were small but made from heavy dark wood with a mix of chairs and booths. There was also pub style bar with barstools along one of the establishment walls. It was cozy and comfortable and I could almost see the relief on Seth’s face that it wasn’t all dainty and French.
We waited quite a while, taking note that there seemed to be one chick serving the whole room and the hostess was MIA. I figured that they must be short staffed and the server confirmed my suspicions as she seated us fifteen minutes later.
We focused our attention on the menu and I ventured a peek up at Seth, who apparently was pleasantly surprised with what he found. The menu wasn’t “fu-fu” at all like he was expecting—there were some good meats represented here--ham, chicken and since this was the brunch menu, sausage. He looked up at me with a smile. It was apparent he had pictured the menu offerings would be like some fancy anorexic pancakes dusted with powdered sugar and he even told me openly later, that he figured that he was going to have to get “real food” before heading off to watch football with the guys later this afternoon. I smiled up at him briefly before turning my eyes back to the menu to take it all in. The dish descriptions screamed “yummy” and I suddenly wished that my nasty habit of being health-conscious would just go away.
Seth and I discussed our appetizer options and one quick check of yelp.com later, we decided on the apparently famous pesto-brie fries. The server confirmed the yelp reviews that the fries were very popular. We looked around the room and could see at least three other tables happily sporting a mound of green pesto laced fries. We felt satisfied that we had made the right choice.
When the fries arrived, they smelled wonderful and neither of us wasted a moment before digging in. The pesto was good and not overpowering as most pesto tends to be—meaning that, I am happy to report that I didn’t taste raw garlic the whole rest of the day. There was a scattering of diced tomatoes that paired lovely with the basil in the pesto and I found that to be where the real flavor and charm were hidden. The brie was minimal and the taste was a bit obscured by the pesto. I couldn’t see where the brie added much to the dish. The fries themselves were a bit on the soggy side and lacked a real texture. Without the pesto and tomato topping, the fries would have been a failure.
The server returned to take our lunch order. I ordered the buckwheat crêpe stuffed with mushrooms, spinach, shallots and goat cheese and Mr. Handsome pants ordered the sausage and egg breakfast crepe. We continued to munch on the ample serving of fries (I confess, I went a little beyond my limit of five) and about ten minutes later we were greeted with our not-too heavy lunch. Seth was surprised as he gazed down upon his plate. There were two crepes, one on either side of the small bowl of grits (resting comfortably center plate) and they were pleasantly full of eggs, peppers, shallots, cheddar and his most sought after item, sausage. My plate also held two crepes snuggled up against the bowl of grits. One peek down allowed me to see a beautiful little brown blanket stuffed with plentiful spinach, shallots and mushrooms. Seeing isn’t necessarily believing when it comes to food so we dug-in to confirm the yummy-ness that our plates suggested was waiting there.
It was good, really good. Goat cheese can also be overpowering, both in flavor and texture but the chef at Crepe Cellar wasn’t having it-- they used the perfect amount of goat cheese. I noticed that I didn’t taste much oil or butter at all – which kept the dish feeling light. The shallots, which, by the way, are one of my favorite things on the planet, were sweet and added a bit of texture against the softness of the spinach and creaminess of the cheese. It seemed that there were a little less of the mushrooms but their flavor was distinctly there just the same.
Overall, I had a pleasant experience and can’t wait for round two. Mr. Handsome Pants is also game to give it another go. It was apparent that the meat-eater in him was satisfied and that I had found a place where the food was prepared by someone who did indeed, give a damn.
