You won't believe the California wine industry's latest new-age craze.
They lived for excitement, but the FBI got the final thrill.
Chuck Bundrant built an unlikely seafood empire--with a little help from Alaska Senator Ted Stevens.
How a benevolent billionaire mayor ended up owning us all.
My own favorite is a mix of bananas and Nutella, that wonderfully gooey blend of chocolate and hazelnut that's been popular in Europe since the 1950s and is just now becoming widespread over here. Vaingloriously, I was going to take credit for inventing this particular combination till I was informed that bananas-and-Nutella has been a standard of sidewalk vendors in London and Paris for decades.
For the crepe purists wondering if CoCo's uses one type of batter for the sweet and another for the savory, that answer would be no. It's a single, all-purpose mixture. Another grouse: You'll be served on a paper plate and provided flimsy plastic silverware. On the bright side, the to-go orders are packed in hard plastic shells, not that feeble white Styrofoam.
The grilled sandwiches at CoCo's are made on oversize slices of sourdough-ish bread (instead of the ciabatta or baguettes often used), and the fillings are pretty much the same ingredients used in the savory crepes. The two panini I sampled -- one with goat cheese and roasted red peppers, the other Moroccan sausage -- were rather tepid and surprisingly saccharine. It could be the caramelized onions.
CoCo's provides free Wi-fi, and on one visit I saw a laptopper clicking away happily as she nursed some odd-looking tea (chocolate mate?).
No doubt CoCo's regulars are well attuned to the ebb and flow of the place and its appealing, if not entirely successful, menu. The question for the rest of us, then, is how keen are we to have "zee veh-ree theen pancakes"? Frankly, I'm not dying to go back. But, unlike Ricky Bobby, you wouldn't have to twist my arm.