Once a couple of months ago I walked by a restaurant that had a shimmering sign above the door made of hundreds of tiny silver and green medallions. I wanted so badly to reach up and run my hand along it. I paused, looked inside a window to see that the walls were painted green and the small rooms were connected by low rounded doorways, hacienda style. To me it looked like a Mexican restaurant, which would have been quite a nice surprise, but the name, Jimmy Elsass, gave me no clue as to what the menu might hold. I walked on.
On Saturday evening I was invited to flammkuchen and found myself once again at Jimmy Elsass's. Tea candles sat on paper tablecloths and gave the dimly-lit restaurant a cozy if not romantic glow. Enormous balloon grape bunches hung from the ceiling like guests at a child's birthday party. The restaurant was nearly full and the menu was a tiny wooden novel. So with only one between the five of us we all went with a flammkuchen variety listed on the first page. I had never before tried flammkuchen but had heard it compared both to pizza and to quiche. Not a fan of quiche, I clung to the pizza comparison and ordered the arugula and ham. Quickly after our wine, arrived the flammkuchen, each on its own individual wooden platter. I was relieved to discover that it was more like pizza, but instead of the tomato sauce, is traditionally crème fraîche. Mine had thin flaky crust and the crème fraîche was covered by a layer of melted cheese that was sharp like parmesan. It was delicious and lighter than normal pizza. After trying some of each we toyed with the idea of ordering the pear and goat cheese flammkuchen for dessert ...
Jimmy Elsass, we will meet again!
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