Monday, November 07, 2005

Crêpes West

Every time my fiancé and I cross into Pacific longitudes we make three stops: Café Crêpe, Cupcakes, and the best hotdog stand ever.

Cupcakes and the best hotdog stand ever do not relate to sandwiches, so we'll deal with them another time.

Crêpes are sandwiches—French sandwiches—with origins dating back to classical Roman times. They have a frame and a filling, and do not entirely hide the tasty innards, placing the crêpe well within the Complete, Unambiguous Sandwich Definition (unless, of course, they are filled with an uncut burger patty or something equally bizarre).

Sweet or savory, equally at home on a plate or palm-wrapped, crêpe s are versatile. The one pictured above, an easy favourite, hosts spinach and feta. The buttery softness of the shell warms and melts the cheese, gooing up each bite.

But the beauty of the crepe, as with all sandwiches, is its ability to contain. Wrapped in a crinkling waxy paper, there is little fear of mess. You can the check out the massive maples and Douglas firs of Stanley Park, the shops and runners on Robson Street, the fleeces and hiking shoes at Kitsilano, confident that you're not leaving any precious crêpe on the sidewalk.

What a great city.