Skip to main contentIn America, we call them pancakes--we stack 'em thick and slather 'em with butter and syrup. In France, they call them crêpes--they prepare them paper-thin and enfold in them the most sinful delicacies: crab meat and sautéed asparagus, black truffles, sauce du chocolat.
The gall of those Gauls, always making us look gauche by culinary comparison! While our pancakes taste basically the same whether they come from Grandpa's griddle or from IHOP (and plunge us instantly into a show-me-the-sofa sugar crash), the more nuanced crêpe absorbs the flavors of its sundry stuffings and is so light it leaves you vigorous enough afterwards to do other things--French things, like watching Louis Malle films, irritating the British, making love at 10:30 am or becoming a socialist.
Granted, it's a fair skip from the Left Bank to the banks of the Willamette, but Portland is blessed with several establishments that serve up a mean crêpe, including Chez Machin (pronounced "shay mah-SHAN"), whose crêpes are spot-on authentic--which is to say, délicieux.
Chez Machin is not a fancy French restaurant with hovering captains and sommeliers. It's more like an ex-pat Cheers on the Champs. Even Chez Machin's name has a folksy levity to it. It means "What's-his-name's Place." As it turns out, What's-his-name is owner Bruno Gonsard, a Chartres transplant who often mans the crêpe pans himself in the open kitchen, smoothing the batter filigree thin with a wooden baton. Gonsard has given the small dining room a corner-bistro feel, hanging the walls with imported-beer posters and playing some sort of Godforsaken French reggae over the speakers, putting one in an agreeably Eurotrashy mood.
Crêpes (rhymes with "steps," not "drapes") come in two varieties: savory, which are made from buckwheat flour, and sweet, made with white flour. Gonsard and his cooks do memorable things with both. The savory crêpe with brie, chicken, avocado and Roma tomato ($7.75) is held together by a mustard crème fraîche and the subtle bite of the brie's rind. The menu offers 16 other savory variations, with fillings such as scallions, mushrooms, spinach, spring greens and spicy marinated tofu. These are hefty crêpes packed with fixin's that fill you up like a good, stuffed omelette will. Garlic-phobes beware: Some items arrive redolent of the love-it-or-hate-it stinking rose, with no forewarning on the menu.
If your tooth runs sweeter, skip to the 12 sweet crêpes. The basic cinnamon and sugar ($3.75) is a good place to start. Light and not too filling, it's perfect with coffee as a light breakfast or as prelude to some of the richer varieties: blackberry jam ($3), honey and toasted almonds ($3.25), fresh fruit, chocolate and whipped cream ($5.25), or Nutella and banana ($4.50). There's even a Nutella-custard number ($4) if you're feeling naughty.
For lunch and dinner, Chez Machin offers a handful of salads featuring one of the best vinaigrettes in town that's a pungent balancing act of earthy and sharp flavors. Try the chèvre crêpe salad ($8.25), fresh greens and thinly sliced apples on a savory crêpe bed, topped with walnuts and a generous dollop of warm goat cheese.
A bowl of Soupe ˆ l'Oignon ($4.25) (that's French onion soup to you, Charlie) was rich and satisfying on my first visit but disappointed on a subsequent outing, the flavor weak, the cheese insufficiently melted.
The dinner menu branches out to include a buttery croque monsieur ($7) with tomato slices and Emmental cheese, and the French Provincial standby, coq au vin ($15.50), a chicken breast and leg in a rich brown sauce with a red-wine base. Garnished with green beans and sliced potatoes that, mercifully, were not overcooked as is customary in these parts, the coq was tender and juicy, the skin nicely browned.
Service at Chez Machin is friendly, French-accented and sometimes slow. My dining companion's Coke sat empty for half an hour without an offer of a refill. A casual attitude reigns. When I asked for the day's specials, the mademoiselle genially pointed to the chalkboard across the room and suggested I walk over and read it. On my server's recommendation, I ordered a C™te-du-Rh™ne ($6) to go with the coq au vin, but it was a tad peppery and overpowered the chicken's delicate gravy. Water and soft drinks come in the European manner, sans ice, so speak up if you like yours cold.
We often think of crêpes as morning food, and while Chez Machin is a cozy nook for breakfast or brunch, the savory crêpes make a satisfying dinner as well. If the tantalizing coq au vin is any inkling of what an expanded dinner menu might taste like, What's-his-name and company are more than ready for prime time.
Chez Machin
3553 SE Hawthorne Blvd., 736-9381. 11 am-9 pm Monday, 11 am-6 pm Tuesday- Friday, 9 am-9 pm Saturday- Sunday. $-$$ Inexpensive- Moderate.
Picks: Le chèvre crêpe, coq au vin, savory crêpes with brie and gorgonzola, croque monsieur.
WWeek 2015