cafe deville

It's gorgeous, no? I'm finding it difficult to imagine a better day to take a seat outside at Cafe Deville: warmth (without the humidity), the Friday before Memorial Day and good people. We took a seat and ordered a few $5 happy-hour margaritas. A constant parade of curious characters passed as we sipped. French Bull Dogs, boys in skinny jeans, loose knit sweaters, girls in over-sized tees and itty bitty shorts. Frantic patterns, retro sunglasses. I reveled in the diversity- in comparison to the Financial District.

As our buzz set in, we decided to take a look at the menu. The waitor suggested the crab cake, we also requested the cheese plate. A rich little combination of treats, but seemed to work well with the tart and salt margaritas. I'm not entirely sure why the waitor felt that the crab cake was the cat's meow. It tasted like something you'd buy at the supermarket fish counter. Lots of filler, no juice, no sass. The cheeses were decent. A single dried fig and a handful of grapes. I'm fairly confident that everything on the plate was purchased at Trader Joe's down the street.

Regardless, I thoroughly enjoyed the people watching, afternoon buzz and good company.

Note: the oysters looked delightful.

3rd Ave at 13th Street.