Blueberry Pancakes at Boulevard Place Café

After extensive renovations of the 1916 building in Butler-Tarkington six blocks south of Hinkle Fieldhouse, Bob and Carla Boyd and Doug and Kathy Moses opened Boulevard Place Café in May. The menu is a reflection of Chef Bob Boyd’s restless enthusiasm, from New York-inspired pastrami on rye to San Francisco Chicken Salad.

My colleague Lora had already ordered take-out from Boulevard the week before to cater a meeting. Alas, the Greek Salad had been mostly lettuce. But others raved about the Sauté du Frommage, a high-falutin’ grilled three-cheese sandwich on whole wheat.

On this Friday lunch, Sarah opted for a bowl of Chicken Bacon Soup ($3.75), a clear, subtle blend of rice, peppers, green beans and a mysterious herb that we guessed might be celery seed. In many places soup is an overlooked treat; here it proved a shining star. The Boulevard Chips ($1.65) were a good accompaniment. More like chips in the British sense, these home-fry-style spud discs came with a dusting of cayenne. Wendy was pleasantly surprised by the China black iced tea, but underwhelmed by the Reuben ($5.75). An Easterner by birth, she pined for shaved beef, not cut, and lamented the relative sogginess of the bread.

Lora ordered The Boulevard, a concoction of spinach, bleu cheese, mandarin oranges, almonds and grilled chicken. Chef Bob came out to tell us with all honesty that his fresh spinach was not so fresh at this point, and would she mind it on a bed of iceberg? Patient Lora agreed.

My choice was “My Burger” ($5.85), which can be personalized with four cheeses, bacon, ’shrooms, salsa and other goodies. I liked the misshapen shape of the burger and backyard grilled flavor, both signs of its authenticity. It came with my choice of slaw, chips or Steve’s Pasta Salad, little shells with minced veggies, in need of a bit more sauce of some sort.

Our server told us that all of the desserts are supplied by Just Desserts, except for one: Bob’s grandmother’s Chocolate Waffle (a steal at $2.50). Out came a tire-sized, cushiony warm chocolate waffle topped with ice cream and whipped cream, an ideal dessert for sharing. The waffle was a tad chewier than the hypothetical perfect waffle — perhaps from overmixed batter? Homey nostalgia, a hint of nutmeg and voluptuous presentation made it the highlight of our meal at Boulevard Place Café.

The café also serves breakfast — a blackboard mentioned North Dakota Scrambled Egg Sandwich and shrimp omelets — so the very next morning my husband and I hightailed it over for an al fresco breakfast. There was Chef Bob, greeting us happily and apologizing for his possible incoherence due to lack of sleep, and Kathy, apologizing for the drill noises caused by the final phase of renovation.

We bought a Trib, caught up on Cubs news and awaited our Vanilla-Cinnamon French Toast and Blueberry Pancakes ($5.25 each) while a Saturday morning bustle began. Bob came out and proudly presented the morning’s first experimental blueberry pancakes made with Michigan blues. I got round two. They were stealthy: not looking particularly berry from the outside, but rife with berries on the inside. Too bad a doughy texture made them tough to finish; thinner batter and a lighter touch would help the cause. Joe’s order of French toast would have benefited from more vanilla, more cinnamon and eggier, moister bread. Orange juice junkie Joe also regretted the steely-tasting bottled Welch’s from concentrate.

If the food at Boulevard Place Café is still evolving, the affability, sincerity and commitment to community are already apparent. The owners are showing reasonably priced, great-looking artwork by Herron students and other local artists (a reception is planned for late August). A few big comfy chairs beckon magazine readers and tea drinkers. A kid-friendly menu and broad counter encourage neighborhood kids to pop in. This kind of hospitality doesn’t come out of a can or a chain restaurant business plan. With any luck, Boulevard Place Café will work out the kinks by pampering the spinach and easing up on the pancake batter. Even so, I’d eat a limp spinach leaf every once in a while to keep a local café flourishing.