Philadelphia Weekly

The crepe escape: Jean-Luc Fanny's French pancakes are light, thin and delicious. (photo by michael persico)

They say good things come to those who wait, but if you're anything like me, you have the patience of a goldfish, particularly on Sunday morning when your inner sonar is hastening you to the nearest reservoir of bacon grease. So I'll admit now that G-Ho's cute new creperie, Caf� L'Aube, may not have been the best choice.

The menu tacked to the wall makes a preemptive strike on speedy expectations, with owner Jean-Luc Fanny explicitly imploring your patience for his fresh, made-to-order roster of crepes, sandwiches and waffles. But c'mon, man. We're not talking duck confit here. How long could a croque monsieur possibly take?

Apparently, it takes exactly one cup of coffee to warm the thin shavings of salty ham, plus one deflated, cinnamon-dusted cappuccino to melt the silky Swiss cheese sauce humming with wonderful nutmeg, and a half a glass of water to get the buttered bread the right shade of toasty brown. Slathered with seed-speckled fig jam, the baguette stuffed with turkey and Brie took just as long and was just as delicious. Seems I've been making sandwiches wrong my entire life.

At one table in the front of the cafe, a silent hawker in a faded Troy Polamalu jersey nursed a single espresso as his silver-plated wares twinkled in front of him, lighters and stopwatches and something that looked like a vintage absinthe spoon. Later that afternoon, his Steelers would go on to best the Cowgirls, but there's no saying whether he saw the victory. He looked like he could have whiled the day away at Caf� L'Aube, jacked on caffeine but blissed out by the atmosphere.

When it comes to coffee and the relaxed pace of cafe culture, Fanny has always been a master. Raised in Abondance, a small French town near the Swiss border, he moved to Philadelphia in the early '90s and opened local roasting boutique Peregrine Coffee with roaster Kevin Lawrence, specializing in single-origin beans.

The only way to taste Peregrine, though, is to indulge in its bespoke service. After a bean-tasting consultation, they'll source, store, roast and deliver a year's worth of beans to you.

At L'Aube, Fanny started out pouring Peregrine, but supplying the cafe with beans every day became too taxing for the roasting business. Bummer. I'm not about to give a marketing lecture, but they should really try to make it work.

Instead, expect Chicago-based Intelligentsia and an occasional La Colombe appearance. The strong-bodied joe poured one early evening indeed rocked the distinct Colombe aroma and flavor. The battery acid another barista pumped from a thermos at brunch was weak, bitter and sour.

Feather-light and tissue-thin, L'Aube's lovely crepes washed out the bad taste. Cooked on a traditional circular griddle, blended wheat and buckwheat batters formed the sweet and savory canvases for ham, mushrooms and Swiss; sliced turkey, crushed walnuts and a drizzle of honey; simple cinnamon-sugar brightened with lemon; and the classic crepe trio: strawberries, bananas and the cure to all the world's problems, Nutella.

Fanny also irons up a mean Brussels waffle. Neither Belgian rounds nor Bonte's Liege-style squares, these rectangular, 3-by-5-inch grids have brittle edges, airy interiors and deep pockets perfect for cradling fruit and sauce. There's plenty more Nutella to be had, though after my waffle topped with chocolate syrup and tangy creme fraiche, I can't imagine having any breakfast item ever again without sour cream.

Like everything else at Caf� L'Aube, it took forever--and was worth the wait.