Monterey, California: Crepes to Cioppino

I felt pretty smug getting one of those last minute discount rates. Our hotel room was recently remodeled and clean. It even had a partial view of the bay (over the parking lot and between some storage buildings). At bedtime we heard quite the racket above our ceiling and realized our room was directly below the restaurant kitchen, which was in full operation until at least midnight. Our discount was not due to the economics of the situation, rather a shitty room location. (A note to the architects of this building – nice job camouflaging this section of the restaurant, you got us good).

 After five hours of sleep, I woke up and contemplated the in-room coffee maker. I then remembered how the stuff takes on the flavor of everything synthetic with which it came in contact during processing, packing, brewing, and consumption. I took the rickety elevator upstairs to the restaurant and paid five bucks for coffee that tasted like it was brewed the night before. Donna and I met up in the main lounge and found seats looking out over Monterey Bay. We sipped the coffee and noticed a yoga class in progress just outside our window. I worked up an appetite watching these fit locals moving their legs and arms. Donna declared she’d found the perfect place for breakfast.

 When in Monterey, I try to stay focused on the natural beauty and historical relevance of the place; otherwise it can seem overwhelmingly touristy. The wharf is packed with restaurants where middle-aged men perch themselves outside offering samples and hard selling their menu – an acceptable style of marketing in pre-Yelp days – but now their barking is generally ignored and awkward.

The place Donna picked out needed no salesman out front – the food spoke for itself. And on the topic of Yelp – they had stellar reviews posted by thousands. Crepes of Brittany is located just off the entrance to the wharf along a side deck, so it’s only minimally tainted by the local peddlers. A giant plaster ice cream cone was within sight of our table, but it disappeared once I took a bite of my crepe.

The Paris-born owner Thierry broke away from his steaming round griddles to chat with us. He explained the caramelized onion and ham galette I was enjoying. They are unique to the northwest region of France and are made with buckwheat. They are folded over and sort of sealed to contain their savory fillings (we also tried the ham and egg galette). Terry looks more like a Thierry than a Pierre, but in spite of his classic American looks clearly spent enough time in France to absorb the skill of the local food culture, which was quite evident in his work. When his mother passed, he honored her memory by making her traditional recipes for his family, including these special crepes. Eventually, he started making them for the rest of us. For dessert (yes, dessert at breakfast) we shared a classic crepe with butter and lemon sugar – the edges just crisp enough to bring out the full flavor. No wonder this place is always packed. These are the best crepes I’ve tasted this side of the English Channel.

 

Buckwheat crepe stuffed with egg and ham

 For dinner, If you must wait for a table, holding a pint in your hand makes things easier.

At our first ever visit to the popular Monterey’s Fish House, we realized that everybody waits – and mostly locals. While the tourists blow their vacation money down at the wharf, this place – literally a converted house sitting off the beaten path serves up fresh local seafood. Before you join the crowd outside on the sidewalk, it’s cool to order a beer or glass of wine and enjoy it while you’re waiting. Our name was called and the three of us wedged our way to our small table where the nice couple sitting next to us from Albuquerque, raved about the Oak Grilled Oysters insisting they were the best they’d ever tasted. I opened the menu and realized deciding would not be an easy task. I spotted both Cioppino and Bouillaisse, the later harder to find, so I thought I’d take advantage of this French version of the classic fish stew. Our waiter made an ever so subtle face when I ordered. “The broth is lighter with a hint of saffron…is that okay?” His face was void of enthusiasm. “Should I get the Cioppino instead?” He then beamed a big smile and nodded.

I’m glad I did because the broth of this Italian version was delightfully robust. I took a bite and did not look up until I was finished. The mussels, clams, and swordfish were local. The shrimp, calamari, and octopus were tender.  So often the seafood is overcooked in the process of making this stew, but not here. Donna and Chris are not into seafood (believe me, I’ve tried converting them to no avail). They ordered Chicken Marsala, which was tasty. On that note, the portions are much larger than expected and people commonly share a dish (as they did). The house wines are better than typical. Even though stuffed to the gills we ordered dessert – Cannoli  – the fried dough tube is made by a local baker then piped with the ricotta mixture just before serving. It was excellent and alone worth a trip to this place.