As I rolled off the couch the morning after a very hazy St. Patty's Day the first thing that went through my mind was "What deliciously greasy food and I going to get in order to combat my imminent hangover?" Then I remembered the night before my friend had mentioned a restaurant called Crepeville located in Davis, CA. I immediately knew this is what I wanted. Unfortunately, time was not on my side. It was at most 45 degrees outside, the rain was drawing nigh, and I had to bike to the house we had partied at the night before in order to get the car so I could reach my final destination.

The ride was cold and dreary yet quite refreshing as I had arrived in CA from Miami, FL at 9 p.m. the night prior. My friend and I reached the car, locked the bikes up in the backyard to be retrieved later, and made our way to what I can only describe as breakfast heaven. When good eggs die, they are reincarnated and Crepeville is where they go to. The menu was daunting. With so many options, both savory and sweet, I knew I had an important decision to make. Existing menu item or personal creation? I grabbed a piece of paper and began writing all of the ingredients I would like in my crepe. Minutes later I had it figured out: The chicken pesto crepe. With a blueberry muffin.

This muffin, my friends, was unlike any other muffin I had ever eaten. Not only was it fresh out of the oven, it was also whole wheat. Being a fan of whole wheat over white any day the anticipation grew as I drew closer to my first bite. And then, elation. The outside was perfectly crispy while the inside was moist. The flavor was perfect. And then, to top off the morning, my order was carried to my table. Since I had ordered it to-go I knew that getting back to the apartment was of the greatest priority. Hopping curbs, dodging police officers, and causing a 10 ten car pile-up are a few of the things that did not happen on the ride home. It was uneventful, and this made my desire for my crepe grow.

We got home and then for the next ten minutes there was silence. The chicken was tender, the tomatos were flavorful, which is quite rare for tomatos these days. It could have used just a bit more pesto, but alas I was satisfied. The provolone melted in my mouth. And the home fried potatoes? Delicious as well. Seasoned simply with salt, pepper, and thyme. After finishing my crepe, I laid down on the couch, lethargic and blissful, and allowed my stomach to do all the rest.