Kawa Brunch

Piscine du Carrousel, 2 Cr du Parc, 21000 Dijon, France

Click right to take a look around…

After almost walking all the way to this place a few days ago, seeing a bulwark of a building among the photos on Google, and then becoming very suspicious at GoogleMap’s directions (See “Extra Notes”), this place was shrouded in mystery. Guess what? My suspicions were right. Don’t trust GoogleMaps. This brunch spot is an amenity of the community pool. I’m not kidding. I’ve been in gym cafes and even a culinary school’s waffle operation (see Twisted Waffles LLC), but this serious operation of pancakes, crepes, toasts, and muesli-topped yogurt is a choice derivation. This brunch spot, however, is certainly no afterthought, no “might as well.” I arrived at 10:30, and at 10:31 there was not one table available. Before the elongated lemonade stand, acting as the main counter and taxed menu display, only the stools along its vegetal bar wall were free. Frankly, I don’t see them planting any people there unless there is absolutely nowhere else for them to go. Ferns, long grass, and shrub undergird the counter while staff dances behind it to make coffee and press juices. Through tall windows, swimmers are visible taking on their lanes under backstroke flags. But see now, WHY are there big stuffed monkeys hanging off two indoor tree trunks that are somehow holding a circus tent ceiling taut? No one, admiring their food and beverage spreads, but me seemed to care. In their matte black chairs and simple wood tables, with legs that conjured up The Weinstein Co. logo, mostly sets of two either both dipped spoons into the same, first cold course. Others waved forks over flattened bubbles that presented each polished piece of brunch, trying to figure out which one to pop first. Clink. That one. With every concerted lap the staff made, more bubbles appeared. There is a jubilation that everyone is in on, the kind that anyone who’s been underwater or in the path of a bubble wand knows.

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Drink: Capuccino

When I dipped into the foam of this capuccino (how they spelled it on their menu), it cratered like someone grabbing a chunk of snow from a heap. While the flavor isn’t stand out, and the creaminess of the milk is absolutely gone, the latter does tame the bitter espresso well enough. I’ve said this before, but sometimes the description bears repeating: it reminds me of the old-school espresso drinks you’ll find in Eastern Europe, just pulling brown liquid and slapping some soul-warming milk on top. It is extremely reminiscent of illy, Caffé Vergnano, and Kimbo.

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Food: Crepe

The plates are tiny circles. My brain had to just spit that fact out. Okay, that’s such a pretty crepe! I was not expecting the topping of bananas, whole almonds, and goji berries along one edge, with powdered sugar and almond slices gracing the entirety. It smells perfectly sweet. The crepe texture isn’t the best. A little chewy for me. But you have to understand, having just recently had an unforgettable crepe in La Clusaz as well as a life-altering crepe from a stall down deep in the depths of Avignon, I’ve been ruined. The filling is nice—though I do think Amlou is just almond butter—but really the topping is what made it worthwhile. It takes a special kitchen to have the foresight to plate like this, and I’m delighted to see it. Honestly, if I wanted a light-but-fanciful brunch I’d come here for this crepe and the cappuccino and call it a day—a perfect 8.9€ combination.

Le krusty

How long it took for a singular egg on half of a biscuit is kind of insane. Over half an hour later, I was still just sitting there with my crepe (brunch dessert). The only saving grace was that, looking around, I didn’t see any other eggs or toasts. This observation convinced me that they didn’t forget about me or mess up my order. Apparently, these items are extremely time consuming to prepare. The lamb's lettuce and the sprouts in the presentation are beautiful and really make things pop. But, the dish was completely cold. The slice of cheese on the biscuit didn’t even melt. Cutting into the poached egg, the egg yoke didn’t bleed at all. It is tasty, however there was a lot of poor execution. The hollandaise sauce is also very light while offering a ton of flavor. My brain settled calmly on one final, silly thought: if an alien came to earth and was tasked with making a friend chicken sandwich, something akin to this dish is what I’d expect.

Overall: nothing horrible maybe aside from the wait and the temperature of the Le krusty (because I let the crepe sit while I waited, I can’t really comment on its temperature). There are unique dishes and some surprises. 

Price: Capuccino=2.5€; Le krusty=7.9€; Crepe=4.9€ (+Amou by Mounia=1.5€)*

*There are too many differences between from their online and board menu. It’s a little debilitating. Amlou is nowhere to be found on the online menu for the Le Continental or the crepe (even for the upcharge), and this topping also flip flops in description. Sometimes it’s by Mounia while other times it’s by Mounia, noisettes, banane, figues. I think it’s a roasted almond butter, but what makes things even more difficult is that the site for this product lists four different variants of this butter. Yet, the only specification here is on the pancakes on the online menu. It could be hazelnut, but there is already nutella…it’s really impossible to tell. The online menu also lists the latte macchiato as an option in the Le Continental, but the physical menu doesn’t. Because I didn’t want to attempt to ask for clarification, and fail tragically at French, I opted out of the Le Continental for à la carte and a cappuccino.

Hours: Saturday–Sunday {10–15:30}; Monday–Friday {10–15}

✓ WIFI

Extra Notes:

Here’s how you crack the code: you must get some kind of fruit salad or yogurt to start (or the Le Brunché or Bonnie & Clyde work too). If you go this route, you’ll have something to nibble on while you wait for the hot food.

I took this screenshot while sitting in the restaurant…

Google said I hadn’t arrived and had to go around…all while my crepe sat in front of me.