Review: Cafe Estelle

But Philly, for some reason that I’ve yet to wrap my mind around (though not due to any lack of effort—I’m trying my darndest to figure it out), is home to more standout bruncheries than its relatively diminutive downtown might suggest.

Of course, the best of them aren’t downtown at all, but tucked into the neighborhoods of the city, the places where actual Philadelphians live and eat and drink and stumble out of bed in their loose-fittingest clothes for a caffeine infusion and a plate of something hearty and good. Northern Liberties has Honey’s, South Philly boasts Sabrina’s, Society Hill is home to the not-a-bruncherie-but-still-magnificent-for-breakfast Zeke’s delicatessen. And now, to that no-man’s-land just beyond Old City, in the ground floor of the lofts at 444 North Fourth Street, another worthy addition has to be added to that lofty, eggy crew: Café Estelle.

Owners Kristin Mulvenna and Marshall Green have done nearly everything right here, from the music (Beatles on a recent Saturday morning) to the color scheme (rich blues both sooth a hangover and cast even the most night-before-grizzled face in a sympathetic light) to the menu (first-meal-of-the-day standards done with care and just enough tweaking to keep them interesting) to the coffee (a selection of three fair-trade brews that range from mild to a Sumatran one that Ms. Martini likened to drinking electricity…in a good way).

French toast, for example, was stuffed with a rich, almost eggy-textured cream cheese and built on a base of homemade brioche. The result, which hardly even needed the warm maple syrup or tangy-sweet pureed apples on top, was a breakfast preparation just as akin to a perfectly rendered bread pudding as it was the typical morningtime standard.

Honey-pear pancakes were just that, but succeeded where so many other similar versions fail: Nutty, spongy soft pancakes were just kissed with the sweetness of honey and not overwhelmed by it, which allowed the pear slices, perfectly sweet in their own right, to come to the fore.

Cream cheese also made an appearance in an omelet alongside scallions and homemade bacon. And while this is a preparation not terribly dissimilar from those at other bruncheries around town, this one was raised a level by the homemade bacon, whose heady, perfectly calibrated sweet-smokiness added a level of depth to the omelet that it otherwise would have lacked.

That bacon can also be ordered as a side, thought the portion, especially compared to the generosity of everything else here, did seem a bit on the small side. Homemade sausage patties, on the other hand, were both well-portioned and unexpectedly meaty: Instead of overseasoning them and trying to make them fit into the more traditional flavor parameters of breakfast sausage, these were all about the pork itself, and better for it having been that way.

Lox and bagel, too—a brunchtime workhorse that’s not likely anyone’s idea of an exciting dish—stood fin-over-gills above your mom’s Sunday best. Here, the salmon was smoked in-house, lending it a sashimi-like texture that even the best store-bought stuff doesn’t achieve.

           
But that’s the kind of attention to detail you find at Café Estelle. It’s a testament to both the overall brunch culture of this city as well as to the vision and care that Mulvenna and Green are lavishing on their small, charming piece of the city. It may not be in a fancy neighborhood, or even one that you’ve likely visited before, but it defines exactly what people mean when they refer to a restaurant as “worth the trip.”