The whispers announcing the arrival of a “crepe place” in downtown Boulder elicited discreet snickers from the foodies and culture-watchers who promptly set the over-under on Foolish Craig’s survival at thirteen weeks. Now, thirteen years later, the touts are bemusedly shaking their heads while the owners high-five themselves over their winning high-concept, and the lucky locals cash in.
While it surely lives up to the standards of its peculiar culinary micro-niche, Foolish Craig’s has become something far more expansive in spirit, a bona fide neighborhood eatery perfectly suited to its laid-back clientele and its envious location on East Pearl. With true santacruzian flair, the joint’s eclectic sensibility accommodates sports on the tube, microbrews on tap, professionals in the booths, singletons at the counter, and happy hippies slinging hash. The menu extends to omelettes and sandwiches, and to fancier fare on the specials board, and it all arrives precisely as advertised on the arms of generous staffers who seem comfortable in their skins, with more behind the eyes than your average service industry lifer.
Much like its spiritual cousin Mountain Sun, Foolish Craig’s cleanly updates the archetypically gritty and sometimes oppressively hyper-social concept of the community cafe, achieving a happy marriage of classy comfort and youthful verve which continually threatens to give gentrification a good name.