Jaunted

Did I mention crowded? My husband and I jammed ourselves into the tiny vestibule where customers wait to be seated. With about five others ahead of us, it soon became necessary to remove all outerwear. Anytime someone left, we played a game of shuffle that body, as we tried to squeeze ourselves against walls to allow multiple doors to open and close. Watching the crepe-makers inside though, kept us reasonably entertained as we commented on their bare-handed technique: I’ve only ever seen crepe-makers flip with a special tool, not their hands.

After about 15 minutes we were shown to a table in a back room, with a view of the Foot Locker across the busy street, rather than the one we’d hoped for of the crepe station up front. From the laminated menus we each chose a savory crepe, spinach, mushrooms and cheese for me, eggs, cheese and mushroom for my husband. I also ordered a vin chaud; I’m a sucker for hot mulled wine on wintry days.

These crepes were no hand-held snack. Mine must have weighed a pound, loaded with spinach and mushrooms and oozing Swiss cheese. It definitely required a knife and a fork. It was tasty, though lacking a little salt, and, along with the hot wine, fortified me for the remainder of the afternoon. Though full, I couldn’t pass up a dessert crepe with maple syrup: For all my delusions of being in France, this was Canada after all. The dessert crepe came out a little more quickly than the first course and we shared the sweet treat, drizzling the thimbleful of syrup over our portions.

About two hours after lining up for Casse-Crêpe Breton, we were on our way out, ready to face the cold for a bit longer.

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[Photo: Dana McMahan]