Suzette will have you saying Vive la France as you dig into their fantastic fare
Her voice reduced to a guttural growl that I hadn’t heard before as she spat out the words.
“I’ll punch you if you do that”
I didn’t have the heart to ask her where she’d punch me, that would have sparked an altogether new wave of aggression from my little lady.
Ironically, she went to the Good Wife a day or so after that.
Mind you, she’s not normally like this. She’s not one for wonton aggression, but she would have made a New York mobster proud on the day, for she made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
What brought out the so far hidden Mrs. Hyde of her persona? In a word, Suzette. An innocuous name, but one that can inspire ire in the right circumstances.
After what seemed like an age and a half, Suzette finally opened up in Powai and I was chomping at the bit to sink my pearly white chompers into their savory crepes. Worried sick about where I’d be punched by the worse half if I didn’t comply with her wishes, I pushed my tryst with Suzette to dinner of their opening day.
What Suzette lacks in size it makes up for by way of flavour, but I’ll come to that in the bit, because first impressions last impressions, y’all.
Suzette might be small, but the liberal use of wood and bright yellow lights in addition to minimalistic decor (such as the chalkboard announcing the days specials) ensures that this little cafe is cosy and inviting. There’s a small book shelf on the far wall with an eclectic collection French books and magazines racked up on it, and the overall vibe is a friendly one that draws you in. Suzette then is like a small friendly dog that just melts your heart without trying too hard; you can’t help but like it. Unless you’re a cat person, in which case this place is a small kitty that also serves crepes.
There’s a motley collection of sandwiches, salads, hot beverages and smoozies on offer (the last one makes me want to go “Excuzi, where is mah smoozie?”), but make no mistakes, it’s the Suzette that steals the show. Ironically, it doesn’t serve the crepe variant that acts as its namesake, but the crepes they do serve aren’t just stellar, they’re interstellar.
Think of their crepes as that lissome lass on the beach (take your pick, just don’t make it Juhu Beach or Chowpatty) lounging in the sun with her sunglasses perched on her nose and getting her tan on. There’s something magnetic about it, and you just can’t look away from it. Try as you might to peel your eyes away, your eyes can’t look away and your head might look a bit like a bobblehead as it goes back and forth, elsewhere and crepes, now desserts, no, back to the crepes.
Crepes it was.
The not-so-good wife ordered for the Tuna (a mix of Tuna, Tomato and Olive sauce, Mozzarella and Fresh Basil) and the velveteen smoothness of the creamy tuna made for a lovely combination with the fine and crisp crepe, just the way I liked it. For those that don’t want to experiment with their proteins too much, this is a solid choice to fall back on.
Over two meals here, I tried the British (grilled chicken, bacon, sunny side up eggs, mascarpone, cheddar) and the Fermiere (spanish bbq ham, sunny side up eggs, emmenthal, sauteed mushrooms, creamed spinach) and while they were both sublime, I have to go with the former, slightly surprisingly, as my crepe of choice so far.
The combination of crispy bacon with fat glistening off it with eggs that are just perfectly runny (not so much as to sully everything else, not so uptight as to behave like a prissy prom queen that needs prodding) was divine. And while I generally avoid chicken (it’s at the bottom of the protein pyramid for me), it complemented the egg white and creamy mascarpone to a nicety. This was so nice, I considered getting down on one knee and proposing to it at one point, but then better sense prevailed and I only licked the plate clean. I’m all about those table manners.
You know what it’s like when the announcer bigs up a boxer and you’re expecting the second coming of Christ only for him to be knocked flat on his arse within the first minute of the round? Rhonda Rhousey knows opponents like that. Anyhoo. The Dark Hot Chocolate at Suzette was a little like that in that it underwhelmed me a bit, but that was perhaps inevitable when things were as hyped as this was. Don’t get me wrong, I liked the rich silkiness of it all. After all, Belgian Chocolate mixed with milk is always heavenly, but it didn’t have the multi-textured loveliness of say the Mexican Chilli Hot Chocolate I so adore at Flour Works.
With Suzette entering the neighbourhood, nothing has changed and yet everything has changed. Crepes are just unfamiliar enough to be inviting for most, and yet with the wide range of fresh ingredients on offer, I’m sure there’s something for everyone. Grab a piece of Suzette while you can, boys and girls, because soon enough there won’t be enough of this tasty dish to go around.