Metro Pulse/Restaruant Rover/Europa

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Europa Café & Bakery
603 North Campbell Station Road
966-5231

by Connie Seuer

Of late, when my mind begins to churn about lunch or dinner, the old nugget lists towards a very particular sandwich. An open face sandwich, toasted on Pumpernickel-rye bread, topped with warmed pastrami and corned beef, shavings of sharp sauerkraut, and just-melted baby Swiss. Oh yeah. This is the sandwich, the pastreuben ($6.75), that I keep nodding toward. You can find it at Europa Café and Bakery, and it's simply good. A thin slice of above average pickle, and a small handful of very average corn chips accompany the sandwich, but I paid them little mind. They were invisible next to the delicious pastreuben.

A quick mythology primer—Europa was a beautiful young princess, deceived, seduced, and kidnapped by Zeus, who was masquerading as a mellow white bull. The Europa Café, however, located in one of Farragut's blossoming strip centers, is a much sweeter story.

We arrived a tad past noon, during a Vol game, and, as hoped and expected, found a quiet dining room inhabited by only two other sets of customers. Our ears were greeted by a classic version of "That's Amore." Our eyes were captivated by case after cooler case of dreamy pastries and bookshelves filled with Illy coffee and quaint French presses. With all this to take in, in addition to a lengthy cooler filled with fresh deli salads and a sizable menu posted behind the counter, we needed a few moments to get our bearings. But wedged between two of the coolers, behind two large cash registers and receipt printers, was a counter clerk determined to get our orders, get them fast, and then get them confused. By the time they were delivered to our table, the orders were straight again, but it took the staffer shouting at us, and other patrons, from across the marvelously peaceable restaurant to get 'em correct. A beginner's mistake.

For those with a fear of the hot and spicy, you are, at long last, safe with a bowl of Europa's homemade chili ($3.15). Available everyday, they take a steady-as-she-goes approach—large red kidney beans, well-cooked, yet moist, crumbles of ground beef, and stewed tomatoes blended calmly in a tomato-based broth. Peak this with a touch of melted cheese and homemade, toasted Pumpernickel croutons and what you see is what you taste. You'll find no heartburn inducing spices or hidden hot peppers sneaking up after you swallow. On the other hand, if you're the type that considers good chili the kind that wins a dare against the intestines, this is not your stuff.

Heinrich opted for the namesake sandwich, the Europa Club ($6.25), and a serving of one of the deli salads for a combo lunch. The sandwich is a stacker—sliced ham and roasted turkey, along with tenderloin steak (white bull, perhaps?). Lettuce, tomato, onions, and olives are included, all between French and pumpernickel bread. Too bad for Heiny that he didn't notice the sandwich also comes with a generous slather of salsa mayonnaise. Mayo lovers may find this a treat but anti-mayo brethren know the sadness overdosing this condiment can cause. Heinrich ate the whole Europa, nonetheless.

His choice of deli salad, a multi-colored rotini pasta befriended by thin slices of onion and dainty bouquets of broccoli, was dressed in a typical Italian dressing. But the presentation and the serving size were impressive—a large aqua-colored pasta bowl layered with full and crisp leaves of Romaine, filled with a rounded mound of rotini. On further perusal of the menu, I discovered a Tour de Europa option ($6.25) which allows patrons to create their own plate with a choice of three deli salads. And I know exactly what my tour would have included—the tuna and white bean salad, a toss of shrimp and tortellini, and scoops of the apple and grape fruit mix.

I agonized over the pastry cases, trying to decide what lovelies to sample for dessert— a pecan sweet roll or a slice of espresso pound cake ($2.95)? Pistachio-almond biscotti ($1.25) or red velvet cake ($4.95)? Petit fours and a fruit tart or full-on pumpkin cheesecake ($4.95)? After much internal anguish, I settled on a single Boston cream puff ($3.25) and a cannoli ($4.25). The cost seemed a bit high, but these were gorgeous, decadent-looking desserts. Sadly, like the mythological Europa, I paid the price. I was deceived by looks and seduced by sweet demeanor. The cream puff was pretty as a picture on the outside, and at its center, it was a cool, sweet wonderland. But to get to that center, one had to venture through dried-out pastry and dehydrated whipped crème. The cannoli fell apart in Heinrich's hand and was cooler-stale. I can't believe this is an everyday experience. It was the day after the day after Thanksgiving, and here's what I suspect happened. I figure the bakery prepared plentiful festive pastries that, regrettably, weren't all taken home for the holidays. Instead, they remained in the cooler at least one day too long. I also suspect they were very tasty when fresh. The fact that Europa wasn't keen to this is, again, a beginner's error. My advice to you, the diner...approach the sweets as a wizened Europa would approach a mild-mannered white bull, with care and discretion. Ask what's freshest and try that. My third and final suspicion, you'll be licking your fingers afterwards.