I'm off to LA tomorrow to surf the 'Bu for a few days, and then it's up and away to Kauai for some shaved ice and day-long Hanalei Bay sessions.  So I probably won't be in the cafe for a while, unless any of you have special requests.  Been focusing the creative vibes in other directions lately, and haven't made my way to this lovely street as much as I would have wanted.

much love,

le proprietarie


  1. Have fun,


  2. oh well--i'll have to stick to bonjour for a while. enjoy

  3. what happened to the cafe? you still in kauai or what?

  4. Senor,

    I have been waiting here, at my table, for almost five months. One night, several weeks ago, at about three am, I saw, or thought I saw, a shadow moving through the dining room, and I tried to flag it down to place my drink order. Monsieur, there was no response. I arrived in mid-April, just after filing my tax return forms, in need of a unwinding from the tensions of preparing my tax documents over a good meal , a nice bottle from your miraculous wine list, and a long, meandering conversation at one of your tables (I like the one in the back, by the gardenia plant). I hope you do not mind, but the gentleman that always accompanies me, the man who sleeps under the stars and dreams of the song of crickets, who sits on a large rock on the riverbank in the rain, who my aunt once told me is the other half of my soul (the poor, dirty half), was shivering in the street waiting for me to finish my meal, and so I invited him in and he now sits at the table with me, projecting a calm that has helped me get through these past four months without having a single one of your delicious grilled brie-and-strawberry sandwiches or almond cakes in abrosia sauce. Your whole-roasted Sunday hog, your crispy duck in orange sauce, your rosemary lamb shanks. Are you still in Hawaii? That wasteland of teriaki chicken and coconut water? Please, we have been sitting here for several years now, and are quite hungry. At least send someone with bread and butter while we decide on our appetizers. I am a man who needs the old rituals, the tradition, the ceremonies, the pouring of the first sip of wine, the folding of napkins, the tableside preparation of my salad, the brandy flambe in the dining room. Monsieur, please return soon. I think we have drunk all of your wine, and most of your whiskey.

    Ever yours,

    A Loyal Customer

  5. Alas, the wretches have locked me out of my own cafe... please ignore me... I am just a lowly vagabond, one of many along this lowly Rue... allow me to pass, never mind my strange sniffling... I am not sick, nor sad, only remembering the scents of a more pleasant time, in a more pleasant world...