I love to blog. I love to eat. But blogging about what I eat isn’t something I care to do. But while in Bucharest, we did eat at some places with some really good food.
Mon Amour Caffe
One evening we got off the Metro at Piaţa Romană and literally walked around in drizzling rain until something stood out. The idea was to go where the locals went to eat as opposed to Old Town where the tourists go. We found a place called Mon Amour Caffe.
The restaurant itself had nice decor, even a little fountain thingy that I had to wrestle to get Najwa away from. The person who greeted and sat us appeared to also be the waiter, the only one at that, and was perhaps also the cook. But he was nice, patient considering Najwa’s tendency to draw a lot of attention to us when she gets feisty, and spoke just enough English to get our order right.
My main fear about going to expensive-looking restaurants with foreign menus is I have no idea how the portions are going to be. I once took Nduku out to Zengo in Washington, DC, ordered what the menu called ribs but got some rolled up meat dish that, well, was very pretty. They call it fusion. I don’t watch enough cooking shows to know that fusion is a fancy way of saying small portions in very artistic displays that might taste like what you thought it would taste like.
At Mon Amour Caffe, the portions were healthy. We ordered a club sandwich for Najwa, thinking she can handle a sandwich, and even that was more generous than we anticipated.
The only negative, which was common to almost everywhere we ate, was the lack of a high chair for kids. Najwa is already a handful at the dinner table, but when she can easily stand, slide out and reach anything on the table, it can get frustrating.
Grenadine was another quaint little restaurant. Good food. Good vibe.
We stopped by a little dive for lunch called Art Cafe. Wasn’t sure what made the desserts appealing when dressed up as vermin, but the food was good.
The salt and pepper, instead of coming in the salt and pepper shakers, were in a little tray where you scooped it up with a spoon or grabbed a pinch with your hands to sprinkle on your food. Not sure how hygienic it was, but that’s what’s so fascinating about traveling to other countries and seeing how different cultures just worked.