I'm in L.A. this week leading a branding and content marketing strategy for one of our favorite clients. Whenever I travel for business, I love to wander and get lost in the city I'm visiting. I especially enjoy it when my explorations lead me into a great food spot. Usually, I make it a point to not patronize the same place twice so I can turn over as many stones as possible, but sometimes you come across a gem that just calls you back like an emotionally unstable yet hot ex-girlfriend. 

Crepe Xpress is just right around the corner of the L.A. iconic treasure, the Biltmore Hotel. It's a decent sized shop with the stereotypical Parisian home decor you'd find in Hobby Lobby, a steady rotation of 80's rock playing, a meticulously organized kitchen, and the French flag hanging in the window. And the gentleman behind the griddle pouring, spreading, and flipping those beautiful golden discs of French ingenuity is Alex--owner, head chef, and name brother. 

I ate breakfast at Crepe Xpress the first morning of my trip and wanted to kiss him afterwards in the fashion of his homeland for preparing a meal that was perfect in every way: rich Italian coffee, fluffy crepes filled with fresh vegetables and a beautiful béchamel sauce, and delectable sides like house-made salsa, vinaigrette salad, and a wedge of California watermelon. Shit, it was good. So good I had to come back on my last morning in town.

On the day of my return flight, I went to Crepe Xpress to see Alex one last time. I got there early, catching him in the middle of opening up the place. I helped him move the patio furniture out onto the sidewalk before heading inside to grab a table in the back and powering up my laptop. Acknowledging a fellow early-riser, he brought me a cup of that life-giving coffee before powering on the griddles. We started talking to one another as we began our work days, me glancing up over my screen and him throwing away comments over his shoulder as he cooked. 

I came to find out many things about Alex that morning. For one, he hasn't always been a crepe chef. He actually started his career as an architect.

What the hell?

Yeah, it threw me too. He got his architectural degree here in the States while met his wife along the way. After graduating he took a job back home at the Ivory Coast. The government corruption there, though, made it nearly impossible to make a living as an architect, so in the 1980's he and his wife moved back to America but this time in Dallas. He took his passion for food and opened a Tex-Mex restaurant, introducing him to the second leg of his career. Since then, he's graduated from a prestigious pastry program in France, opened Crepe Xpress, and redesigns and flips houses with his wife who is an L.A. real estate agent.

And, that's my America that I know. 

The American spirit is a hearty meal made from locally sourced ingredients called grit, gumption, and faith. And everywhere I visit I see that American classic being dished out in family-style servings. I see it in the 8th generation family running the Gundlach Bundschu winery in Sonoma who has had to persevere through the Great 1906 Earthquake, Prohibition, and the Great Depression. I see it in my best friend from childhood who lives in Austin and is restoring a beat-to-shit airstream trailer into an AirBNB rental property to bring in more money each month. I see it in Josh, the son of a Main Street butcher who is working to migrate his father's mercantile meat business into the digital arena via social media and email marketing. And, of course, I see it in my name brother, Alex, as he smooths out the crepe batter as easy as breathing.

Leaving with my stomach and spirits filled, I thank him for sharing his gift with me. He says, "Se la vie, my friend" and gives me one more cup of coffee to go. I doctor it up and then walk out the door towards my 10am meeting in the Fashion District--hustling every step of the way.