Rachel’s Café and Creperie: Lancaster, PA

           If I had the money to go to France, I would, but I don’t. I have negative money, the story of every college student. Although my numbers are in the red I still seem to manage to splurge on chai, cafes and clothes. Sad but true. Feeling a little French, despite the fact that I look hideous in a beret, I met my dad for lunch at the infamous Rachel’s Café and Creperie.

From the curb, the café looks simple, lined with awnings of black and white stripes, but as you step through the glass door, for no money at all you can head to France for a little while. Greeting you, right beyond the door, stands a headless mannequin dressed in some sort of easy, breezy, beautiful--Rachel’s attire. Photographs line the walls, each with remnants of the Eiffel tower, or something to that effect. I, being someone who desperately wants to be well traveled, finds it amusing to look at the photographs, even dramatically pointing at some of them, leaning over to my father loudly muttering of how I was on that street. Oui, oui. Only French words I know. I’ve never been to France.  

After you obtain a seat in either one of the two rooms, you’re in for a “traiter.” That’s treat in French, thank you Google translate. From Cheeseburger Crepes, Greek Crepes, Thai Crepes, to what I believe to be created by God himself, Nutella Crepes, they’ve got it all. God bless the man who thought to create Nutella. This is literally a marriage proposal to that man, or an invitation to simply cook for me, either one will suffice. Eating is my specialty. (Insert winky face.)

My dad and I cleared our plates of a Greek and a Breakfast crepe within minutes of their arrival. Next we felt the need to indulge in one of the Nutella crepes I so greatly praised in the paragraph above. It was simply splendid. So splendid, it ended up not only in my mouth but on my dress as well. It becomes a dog eat dog world when you place one singular Nutella crepe in front of my father and me.  After my dad finished his last swig of Boylan Cane Cola, because Rachel’s is just too hipster to have Coke beverages, we were off. Goodbye France, hello Lancaster City. 

The Coffee Company; Lancaster, PA

                The Coffee Company, living in a strip mall right off the highway, it serves as a great rest stop, gathering place, and coffee fix. I spent an hour of my time there today. As soon as you enter you sense a combination of eras mixing just as well as that scrumptious chai I had. The overall appeal of the cafe seems to be a mix of 1950’s inspired black and white photos which claim the walls while the modern day paintings sitting among the picture frames, wait to find owners.
The employees themselves hold an era of art. I always seem to find myself with a strong desire to begin dressing more bohemian after surveying the employees’ outfits; I also acquire the desire to get dreads. I occasionally do the first, but the latter has yet to be attempted. After pushing thoughts of what I would look like with dreads from my mind, I am able to enjoy what I came here for, food enhanced by the sweet taste of my Hot Vanilla chai. For only $3.40 I can have my chai and drink it too.
                From young adults who look like the poster children for Woodstock to middle aged couples who look as though their Woodstock children have led them to be addicts of alcohol or caffeine, the latter winning, to older couples who look as though they own a second home in France where they wear sweaters around their shoulders and kiss everyone they meet. Although I am none of those, the atmosphere is so open and inviting that I mix into the butter colored walls, air thick with conversation and Indie music just as well as anyone else. From 7am till 8 on weekdays and 9 on the weekend, you can find the appeal that is The Coffee Company for yourself. With the occasional live music it’s the perfect cafe for a date, a friend hang out, or a dinner spot, especially with its full menu of breakfast through dinner options.
                Now, although I do not leave with dreadlocks I do leave full from salad, soup, a sandwich and/or a drink off of their full coffee bar. I’m a sucker for a good chai, and I simply haven’t found a chai around that compares to the artistically crafted chai from The Coffee Company.

Prince Street Cafe; Lancaster, PA

Prince Street Café. A place for coffee, conversation, and people watching. In one word, Prince St. is class. It exudes a captivatedly classy atmosphere that attracts people of all ages. You always have a few select tables filled with older men, rumbling about the usual old men things, baseball, grandchildren, golf, Viagra. Scattered throughout the tables of old men you have the lone stars. They sit, alone, some with their laptop others with books, soaking up the chic ambiance. Beside them are the teens. Hipsters. Thousands of them, well since the seating capacity is roughly around seventy people this is a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the picture. Teen and young adults such as myself flock to Prince Street Café. It gives us something to do in the rural town of Lancaster, other than cow tipping and thought provokingly biting on pieces of straw.

On occasion, or for me almost every night, people trade their thought provoking biting of straw for a Prince St. beverage. From cappuccino, to chai to irresistible Strawberry Lemonade, Prince St. offers your typical café beverages, ranging from $1 to $5. If a drink simply is not enough to satisfy the missing piece of straw in your mouth, then lucky for you Prince St. also not only offers dinner, such as mozzarella salad, turkey sandwiches with homemade chips, and my personal suggestion of quesadillas, but a great abundance of desserts as well. Muffins, pies, cakes of all kinds and a Lancaster County favorite, whoopee pies are also for your picking. After placing your order at the counter, you, your guests and your Prince St. number can sit and wait for your drinks.

The art of picking a table is a tricky one. You can immerse yourself among the old men, listening to old tales of war, among the loners, listening to the faint sound of Jazz music sneaking out of their ear buds, or next to the hipsters, listening to talk of unknown bands, skinny jeans, and novelty shops. #hipsterproblems. My personal suggestion is to if possible sit at a high table. The high tables are located along the ceiling to floor glass windows of the front wall of the café. These tables allow for not only people watching among the café, but along the street as well. With the Fulton Theater right across the street, you can easily watch the people post-show flooding out on to the streets. This is perfect when you find yourself on an awkward first date. Prince St. is an amazing date spot, but we all have had those dates that feel as though there is a better chance of God himself coming down and ordering a shot of espresso than you coming up with something to say. When the awkwardness begins so must the people watching.

From the coffee brown walls, red accents, and orange hued lighting, Prince Street Café is a place with little to no comparison. No café transcends the appeal of multiple generations quite like Prince St. does. So get that piece of straw out of your mouth, and get a Prince Street Café coffee instead.