At the month-old Crepe House on Valencia ― the third in Bashar Haddadin's minichain, all half-timbered walls and herringbone brickwork ― the crepes are less like lacy, sugar-strewn street snacks you recall from backpack idylls of Paris, and more like sturdy, blintzlike membranes.
Euro-classy as it sounds, the Florentine, well, isn't. But its filling of wilted spinach, ropy orange cheddar, and big-curd cottage cheese ― cottage cheese! ― is totally absorbing. I'm guessing I polished one off yesterday in, like, two minutes, before eating every one of my home fries. Quick enough to get out before anyone I know saw me. I think.
The Crepe House: 1132 Valencia (at 23rd St.), 285-2423.