When the meeting in five minutes means a quiet room for all those in attendance to hear your stomach growl, food on the fly is more than necessary; it is a requirement. Early afternoon, I knew a savory crêpe would be just the thing.

A line had formed outside of La Dominique, a shiny crêpe cart perched outside of Hagerty Library. A mere three people deep, my mental clock (attuned to the timing of most food trucks) calculated a 6-minute wait. Max.

But the man inside was European, and an artist to boot (damn that cultured bastard!), two values my clock had not factored in. Sculptor Zbigniew Chojnacki, Ziggy for short, values both beauty and taste more than most food trucker chefs, and unlike many Americans, is not willing to sacrifice either for the sake of time.

I stood in submission to his artistry, stomach gnawing at its lining and face screwed into a pleading whimper, as Ziggy selected a banana (only the finest would do) for the ever so popular Viennese, (bananas, coffee cream, and praline). Gently he split open the speckled peel, a knife appeared, inflicting safe and equal slices, while I on the other hand considered buying the man a slicer or commissioning a line cook.

That wasn’t even my crêpe. In eleven minutes and three steps forward, Ziggy birthed two creations; a sweet strawberry and nutella combo, topped with painstakingly sliced fresh strawberries, and a veal stew crêpe, a concotion of tender white rice and sautéed veggies submerged in fragrant gravy.

Eight minutes into the meeting, I was finally close enough to feel the steam from the griddle. By now the menu and I had become old friends, however I still swayed between the five sweet and seven savory crêpes. Slightly impressed by superbly seasoned ground beef, I selected the special of the day- a Mexican crêpe. I moodily did my best to focus on the consequences of a missed meet-up, but something about Ziggy’s work was transfixing. He smiled, cherubic with white hair and silver spectacles riding a round nose and rosy cheeks. Yes, he shredded cheese and turned the pepper mill and chopped veggies as though we all had all the time in the world (my inner culinarian threw a tantrum, screaming, “Mise en Place!”) but at least each methodical step was taken with care.

The crêpe -maker’s inner culinarian might have scolded me for a missed breakfast, or maybe the audacity of a grease-soaked sausage patty on white toast sold at the adjacent cart. La Dominique’s mini-menu is seasonal and a sign on its side reads, “We use hormone and antibiotic free beef and chicken.” Ziggy and his wife Krystyna buy free range eggs and plums from Poland, his motherland.

Usually, I’d stand in any line long enough to grab a corn muffin (its only a dollar…) and sprint away, ignoring the 400 empty calories. But not all lunch trucks are created equal, and neither is the satisfaction.

Incredibly thin, with golden griddle rings, my crêpe was loaded with ground beef, peppers, caramelized onions, tomato, fresh vegetables and drizzled with homemade salsa. Once perfectly, slowly filled, it was folded in half, then half again before handed out on Styrofoam.

Mental clock confused by crêpe and a man that seemed to slow time, I glanced at my cell. Fifteen minutes late and still a sprint away, I smiled at Ziggy and walked to a bench with a note to self to get the meeting’s minutes later. Today, I’d be taking the crêpe approach to life.

Just returned from studies in Crete, Erica Hope is a Drexel University student and aspiring food writer. Her work has also appeared in The Triangle.

Article photos by Emily Callaghan, "Street Chefs" photograph by Frau Mutant ia Flickr (Creative Commons), "Philly" photograph from camardella, via Flickr (Creative Commons).