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March 03, 2005
In search of a crepe, a.k.a. why Bistro 921 sucks
The other day, I had a slight craving for crepes. Now, since the idiot who poses as a host at Bistro 921 has no idea what a crepe is, I present to you pretty colored pictures and a recipe. This detailed explanation is purely for the benefit of the idiot who poses as a host at Bistro 921, since I am sure that most of the general population who frequent restaurants that are rated two stars or higher have known what crepes are since back in the days when they were still drinking little glasses of milk with their meals out while their parents had grown-up beverages.
These are crepes. They are a world-renowned breakfast item. Take note, idiot who poses as host at Bistro 921.
Now, one of the difficulties in transitioning from the suburbs to downtown is knowing where to go to find things. For example, in my old suburban neighborhood, I'd know precisely where to go to find crepes at any hour of the day or night - my local IHOP.
But here in downtown, where we have restaurants that are not chains and do not have predictable plastic cookie-cutter menus, finding things can be a bit more tricky. However, I assumed (yes, I know) that since crepes are such a universally beloved food item that any semi-upscale restaurant would serve them. Ha. HA. Oh, how wrong I was.
First, to my credit, I did a tad bit of research. I went to portland.citysearch.com to look for restaurants in my area that serve breakfast. The reason for this was based on past experience: almost nothing is open prior to 11 a.m. around here. I went to a sushi restaurant last Sunday around 11:30 a.m. and found out they didn't open until noon. Noon. Like no one would want to have lunch at 11:30. But I digress. I was thinking that if a place was open for breakfast, and at an hour that one would think normal people eat breakfast, and they served food to people who are in town for conventions and such, by extension they might also serve crepes. Whoopsie.
So I went to Bistro 921, since they were listed as serving breakfast and were located on the ground floor of the Hilton tower, which isn't too far from me. I walk in. The host, who isn't as obviously flamingly homosexual as some of his more precisely dressed and more carefully groomed peers in other downtown restaurants I intend to give my business to in the future, greeted my in a standard enough fashion.
A picture of Bistro 921 completely empty, which is apparently the way the Hilton would like to keep it.
"Hello. One today?" he said.
"Yes. I'd like to find out, though.. do you serve crepes?" I said.
"Crepes? I believe we do," he responded with a nice smile.
"Could I see a menu, please?" I smiled back at him.
"Sure." He hands me one. I look over it.
"I don't see crepes on the menu.. could you point it out to me?" I asked. Then came the admission.
"I'm not sure if we serve crepes. Let me go ask the chef." He steps over to the guy wearing the puffy white hat. He comes back quickly."It appears we actually don't have crepes."
"Oh." Since I'd come down here already, I figured it was worth asking. And he is a restaurant host, he might know. "Do you know of anyone around here who might serve crepes?"
"I actually don't know what a crepe is. Is it some sort of pastry?" he asked. (WTF!!)
Trying to hide my shock, I tried to explain. "A crepe is.. it's a little, very light French pancake. And.. it usually has sour cream, or whipped cream, and strawberries rolled up insi.."
He cut me off. "Well, it doesn't sound like something I'd be interested in," he said patronizingly.
I thanked him and left, wondering all the while if he had any clue, even the slightest comprehension, what a jackass he'd just made himself out to be. First he lies to me about having crepes, and then he doesn't know what the hell they are, and then he tops it all off by telling me he wouldn't be interested in them. A restaurant host. At the Hilton. Apparently, it is not just the Paris Hilton aspect of the Hilton that blows. Bleah.
I then went up the block to the Heathman Hotel, which is most famous in downtown Portland for having their doormen wearing the most ridiculous getup imaginable.
I particularly like the flowers on the hat.
I walked up to the intriguingly-named Heathman Restaurant attached, and looked over their menu, which they conveniently provided to people walking along the street before they step into the restaurant, like self-respecting restaurants do. No, they did not have crepes either, but by this time I was tired and just wanted some coffee. It was a nice enough restaurant anyway, and the host and waitstaff were nice enough, and I ended up having the French toast. Three mushy slices were $9.75, but at least they came on a ridiculously massive round plate with powdered sugar sprinkled all over it.
Nevertheless, I'm sure someone in this town serves crepes, and by God, I'll find them. Eventually.
Posted by astor at March 3, 2005 10:10 AM
Comments
Vivace at NW 23rd and Overton!
Posted by: mara at March 3, 2005 02:32 PM
Thanks, I'll check them out. That's a bit far from me, but I'll make it down there soon :)
Posted by: astor at March 4, 2005 03:05 PM