Elke's Market Cafe

In some ways it’s a mystery to Chow Hound. In other ways it’s not. But in some ways it is. But in other ways it’s really not. But then again it is.

CH is talking, of course, about one person’s sense of deliciousness verses the next person’s sense of deliciousness. Sometime opinions converge. Other times, amazingly, they don’t.

This week, Chow Hound dropped into a rather nondescript joint – Elke’s Market Café in Allen (Texas) – and found himself scratching at his flea-infested inguinal area more than usual.

You see, the mystery goes something like this: D Magazine, that sterling bastion of impeccable culinary insight, happens to think Elke’s is a pretty swift joint – so much so that it voted the place Allen’s “best neighborhood restaurant” way back in 2008. But Chow Hound? Uh, not so terribly much.

Could it be that D – and the admittedly large lunch crowd at Elke’s -- got it wrong? Probably not. Indeed, it’s probably yet another fine example of why one should scarcely ever hire a dumb dog to do a job generally more suited for a dumb human.

Oh, well, let’s continue, shall we?

As the joint’s name suggests, Elke’s is more than just a café, it’s a market, too. What this means is stationed right next to the smallish café there stands a market, one that provides take-home supplies: side dishes, breads, spreads, dips, entrée, salads, etc. Get it? Good. Let’s move on.  Oh, but wait. Elke’s also offers a catering service.

Before we get buried in the salivary minutia, allow CH to confer an opinion or two about the joint’s walk-up-to-the-counter-and-order ambiance. To put it succinctly, there is none – unless, of course, your idea of ambiance is largely defined by a severe utilitarian sensibility. If this is the case, you’ll surely be quite pleased (and probably stunned) to learn that Elke’s has limited its

decoration to the basics: table, forks, spoons, napkins and cups. You get the point. Perhaps this sort of Spartan decorative sensibility is in fact a stroke of genius. After all, the joint is stationed squarely in a strip mall -- not your average strip mall, mind you, but the sort in which you’re likely to find (gasp!) a Radio Shack -- and we all know there’s nothing worse, i.e., nothing more incongruous and generally psychologically troubling, than 5-star dining in a strip mall housing a Montgomery Wards and a Bill’s Dollar Store. 

Elke’s deli(ish) menu is defined largely not by what is offered on a daily basis, but by what is not. Huh? That is to say this is the sort of joint that serves up a different special (and soup) each day of the week while also offering several mainstay sandwiches (chicken or ham salad, for instance). This is the kind of culinary configuration Chow Hound very much approves of. A configuration such as this tends to give consumers the impression that things are homemade, i.e., that the food one pushes down one’s gullet isn’t contaminated with your typical list of American food industry favorites: hydrogenated oils, formaldehyde, glutaraldehyde, ethanol and methylchloroisothiazolinone, for example.

But in (presumably) leaving out the preservative-dispensing American food industry middleman, has Elke’s forgotten to season (or salt) the food? Sure seemed so to Chow Hound. Everything seemed tragically bland, dear readers.

Chow Hound surveyed one half of an egg salad sandwich with a chicken corn chowder side ($6); Thursday’s special: Grandma’s meatloaf ($9); a cup of summer squash soup ($3.50); and a chocolate cupcake for dessert ($2.50).

Here’s the lowdown: the portions were generous, but the flavor, in general, was lacking. Weird. Chow Hound dipped his tongue in everything and came up squarely unimpressed. But then The Dog stopped, took a look around the joint, and saw nothing but a sea of humanity slurping and ripping into the joint’s offerings with an ecstatic abandon generally reserved for seriously transformative religious experiences or alien abductions involving proctological examinations. Weird.

For those who demand a full accounting, here it is (in no particular order):

•    Egg salad sandwich: eggs (lots), mayo, tomato, lettuce, wheat bread, no salt

•    Chicken corn chowder: onion, red pepper, celery, carrot, salt, chicken

•    Summer squash soup: tiny bit of salt, hint of pepper, squash (any summer added was absolutely undetectable)

An astute few may have taken full account of the above and recognized that Grandma’s meatloaf was not mentioned. There’s good reason. The meatloaf actually had a bit of flavor. In fact, the meatloaf was pretty darned good. Flavored with a spice – other than Elke’s apparent favorites, pepper and/or salt – the tender and juicy and hearty loaf tasted of celery seasoning. Is CH willing to put his Waco Truck Driving Institute diploma on the line in making such an astonishing and outrageous guess? Uh, no. But the stuff was quite delicious. The side order of black bean soup was equally stimulating. It too, had something going on other than black pepper and salt – mainly chili pepper; nothing sophisticated, to be sure, but it worked.

Let’s talk a bit about the cupcake, k? The cupcake was sublime. Chow Hound has not had homemade chocolate cake like this since he was a pup, a time of fond memories when CH’s dad was still around and his mother hadn’t taken hard to the bottle. The cake’s rich, moist and dense chocolate was truly something special and pared quite nicely with its caramel icing. Ding! Ding!

Now, for the philosophical ending…

Homogeneity, Chow Hound has said before, is a word that may as well be synonymous with “America.”  How might a joint such as Elke’s, a joint that served (at least this week) rather anemic (but certainly homemade) food – how has Elke’s attracted an apparent legion of devotees? Easy. Elke’s, in its unseasoned glory and for better or worse, is different – different from the 30 Whoppers you ate last year and the 60 two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese- on-a-sesame-seed-bun things you devoured as well.

But is different better? 

Maybe, maybe not. But one thing is sure: when the slop most of us repetitively eat is the slop most of us eat repetitively, it’s easy to conflate something “different” with something “good.” (If anybody is starting to smell something that smells of relativity about now, congratulations.)

Chow Hound’s ridiculously arbitrary Milk Bone rating: 2 Milk Bones out of 5. As always, Chow Hound invites his devout following to check out any and all joints reviewed. Chow Hound, a masochist, also particularly encourages and enjoys abusive feedback.

Elke's Market Cafe:

105 N Greenville Ave # 11
Allen, TX 75002-2295
(214) 495-0200

Hours: M-F: 11-3; Sat: 11-2:30