She traveled to France, tasted her first perfect crepe, and came home obsessed. So she opened a tiny cafe in Virginia, hidden in a strip mall, and started making crepes the way she learned across the ocean.
Now people drive across the state to eat there. I found the cafe on a weekday morning, tucked between a dry cleaner and a nail salon.
The door was unassuming, but the smell inside was anything but. Butter, sugar, and something fruity…