Many, many years ago I spent part of a summer working in a medical clinic in rural Honduras. As an avid hooper, one of the things I brought was a mountable rim and an old rubber basketball. One day, I had one of the local folks help me put the rim up on the side of the clinic, and invited the local kids to come learn the art of the 12-foot jumper. I could not have imagined it at the time, but 10 years later, a young phenom would emerge from this little village to take over the hoops world: LeBron James. Now, whether or not you think of LeBron as the greatest player of all time, or you instead favor his fellow Honduras native Micheal Jordan or even Guatemala’s pride and joy Larry Bird, I think it’s unmistakable that King James’ rise started with my rusty hoop on the side of the clinic. Dear NBA fans…. You’re welcome.

Or, what might have actually happened, is that as soon as I walked away, the kids used the ball I brought to play soccer. To me, this was an unforgivable sin. Kicking the ball in a game is a penalty, and it’s called KICKING! Can’t be much clearer than that. As a show of my disgust for the locals’ mistreatment of an implement of the REAL beautiful game, I spent the rest of my stint translating for the clinic doctor totally and purposefully mistranslating everything! Ha! Score one for el gringo alto!  

So, kidding about the mistranslating part, but the sadness I felt was real. So, you can imagine my chagrin when I saw this abomination in the Streetlight Brasserie (5 E. Huron, Buffalo).

They put a plant in my pastime. It’s clever, Streetlight, very clever. My only hope is that this ball had been loved in its life and only met this fate after years of service. It looks like a new-ish ball though, which means this was child-murder. These biscuits better be pretty damn good…. Let’s discuss:

Streetlight Brassiere is downtown. I love going downtown for food, which is, of course, something suburbanites say a lot. We’ve not always been suburbanites, but these days boy do we love going downtown for food! When we walked in, without a reservation it might be noted, the host told us that they had just given a check to a table and he thoughts they’d clear out in 5 min or so. He ushered us to a small set of couches to wait, which happened to be right next to said table and well within earshot. Not that we were listening… but….. they were discussing conflicts overseas, loudly, heatedly! Unless the Brasserie had a signature cocktail named the “Bastard Whiskey Pete”, it seemed as though ugly names were being bandied about and though the bill be paid, they would not be leaving. I thought maybe if we egged on one side or the other we might up the furor and they’d be forced to “take it outside”, clearing the table for our use. Not knowing if this constituted aiding and abetting violent acts we kept our mouths shut. Our benevolent and ever observant host noticed, taking us to a different table. A better table! One not tainted by painful ideological divides and irreconcilable family strife.

Today our dining party was three. We two authors were joined by my lovely wife who we will not allow to contribute to the writing because she’s just a girl and they can’t spell so good. The sun was out and beautiful this Sunday in Buffalo (downtown, did I mention that?! We’re so brave and adventurous!) and the buoyance it gave me led to a poor decision right away: bloody mary instead of coffee. The bloody mary, which we will not short-hand as BM for obvious reasons, must have been decaf.  Turns out, when you drink 20 – 25 cups of coffee before noon on weekdays your body just kind of expects it. In this regard, spicy tomato is a poor substitute. Noted.

The Brasserie had decent gluten free options. My omelet (left) was minimalist, but I craved minimalism in my desperate fight to remain conscious. Though simple, it was cheesy and delicious. It reminded me of a savory cheese crepe if the crepe part was made only of eggs. I wish I could make omelets thin and crepe-like; mine always turn out thick and pillowy and, if I’m to believe my co-author, also “nasty”. I’m assuming the secret to these thin omelets has been passed through the ages from one Brasserie to the next, out of 18^th century Paris, across the ocean, and into downtown (!!!) Buffalo! If not from Paris, perhaps they got the secret from this guy, here pictured in his natural habitat, just to the right of the bar (right).

You’re not here to read about alien eggs or plants in sports equipment. Did the Brasserie have biscuits and gravy on the menu? Oui! Let’s break them down. Go, fearless co-author, go!

Let me just say before we start, I’m truly sorry about the remarks made above… quite quite interesting. And mostly wrong. BUT. The biscuits and gravy I must say were very good. Chefs kiss!!! The décor was also cool. There were aliens (seen above) and giraffes (not seen above) and a picture of the moon that I’m pretty sure was a picture of a watermelon painted gray…but lets break down the biscuits and gravy. It was good! The biscuits were okay, (they were slightly crumbley and bread-y) but the gravy was really good!!! It was spicy so if you don’t like spice don’t try this one. It had a herb in it I couldn’t quite put my finger on… sage? Oregano? Rosemary? All and all 4 and 12/19 gravy boats out of 5.

They also had a lot of non-biscuits and gravy stuff that looked SOOOOOO good. Chicken and waffles, cinnamon buns, and breakfast burgers all looked to die for. Also for my drink, the water was excellent. As one might say, high quality H₂O. They also had gray watermelon on the menu… I wonder if that was the model for the moon. They had excellent beignets with mounds and mounds of powdered sugar on top! But to summarize, the whole place was really cool and I would defiantly go there again.

Do you hear that? She’d defiantly go again! People might tell her not to, but she would defy them. It was that good. Definitely that good.

Anyway, with that little trace of intrafamily snark out of the way, let’s deal with the second rating. In our fair city we have a number of bistros, we have cafes, we, of course, have American style breweries (which directly translates to brasserie), but to my knowledge this might be the sole establishment staking a claim to the French brasserie tradition in its name. Though it doesn’t look like they actually brew, if brasseries evolved as places for easy, informal eating and drinking in a distinctly chic, European style, I’d think Streetlight hit its mark. Beignets? Eggs that can pass for crepes? Ooooh la la! Yet, before we don the tricolor and fire up the Edith Piaf, look around. Do you see what I see? The ubiquitous and varied collection of Josh Allen themed tees? We’re still in our beloved 716, and I probably should’ve had the coffee. It was probably pretty good. Anyway, for this delightful Parisian experience in…. wait for it…. downtown Buffalo, we rate them as 5 of 5 “Simone de Beauvoir writing while drinking Natty Ice Lights”.

Well done, mes amis, well done.  

Until next time……