I had managed to elude the siren-like yell of Concorde Crepes for months, despite the alluring aroma of cooking batter wafting down the street near the GPO.  It was just never the right time to partake in the extra calories; [...]]]> Cnr Elizabeth St and Little Bourke St
(outside GPO)

I had managed to elude the siren-like yell of Concorde Crepes for months, despite the alluring aroma of cooking batter wafting down the street near the GPO.  It was just never the right time to partake in the extra calories; I was always coming back from or going to a meal, and the internal argument dialogue I had with myself always talked my stomach out of it.  Then my friend Bria suggested we try it for lunch one day, and my resolve was shattered.

Concorde Crepes is the brainchild of Maurice Manno (formerly of Superfino and Aix), who seems to have the golden touch (similar to Mr.Christopolous) with starting up funky new eating places/spaces. He’s got the theory right – do something simple, but do it well, with only the best of ingredients. Tick, tick and tick.

I started with a savoury course – wafer thin slices of prosciutto, freshly podded peas, torn basil leaves, slices of tomato and fresh buffalo mozzarella ($9.90). On the menu it was also listed with anchovies, but I didn’t really feel like them so asked for them to be left out.  Too easy. So nice to see it made fresh before my eyes.

Even nicer was to eat it hot off the crepe plate, warm and oozing with mozzarella cheese. The crepe was thin and tender, wrapped around the filling and placed into a cardboard holder for your eating convenience.

Also on offer are crepes such as vegemite and jarlsberg cheese ($5.50 – I must try this next), free-range tandoori chicken with raita, mint and coriander ($9.90), or even peking duck, cucumber, baby cos lettuce and hoisin ($12.90).  All the other cheesy and/or traditional favourites are also there.

Next was dessert, and despite being tempted by the banana, ricotta, almond and maple syrup ($7.90) or stewed apple, cinnamon and organic Gippsland yoghurt ($6.90), I went with the simple yet satisfying honey version. Oh yes. This is the way to end a meal.

I will be back.