A little bit hippy, a little bit out of the way, a little bit slow, and nobody cares even a little bit.
Ingredients: probably picked next door
Clientele: typical Floyd
Prices: steeper than mass-produced crap
Food: Nom-inacious
Everything: Hippy
He said: The Girl and I were on our way out to Chateau Morissette one sunny, abnormally warm November afternoon, when something suddenly occurred to me in downtown Floyd.
I was hungry.
Luckily, we had passed what looked like some sort of Hippy, New World, organic metropolis of local dining not just a mile back. It took all of five seconds to convince The Girl that we ought to head back and give the place a whirl.
We were very glad we did.
Natasha’s Market Cafe is by no means flashy. It sits on the second floor of a building that houses a small town’s answer to World Market – fresh, local produce, meats and products on sale in a year-round business that’s more reliable than a farmer’s market. The restaurant is a simple, one-room-establishment with solid yellow walls and not much in the realm of decorations. What there is, however, is carefully and tastefully selected to match with the Cafe’s business model and locally minded objectives.
Since it was such a nice day, we decided to sit out on the patio, which was empty at the time though it could easily fit a few dozen patrons. The Sunday brunch menu wasn’t large, but it wasn’t tiny either, and both of us had no trouble finding something that sounded good. Actually, what we had trouble doing was deciding between the delicious-sounding noms.
We put our orders in and we waited.
And we waited.
And we waited some more.
It was around this time that The Girl noted that the menu had said, “Thank you for your patience.” Though mine was beginning to wear thin, there was some awesome bread and jam served in the meantime, which easily tided us over until our food finally came out.
It was well worth the wait.
I had a veggie wrap filled with eggs, potatoes, veggies and cheese that basically melted right in my mouth. It was served with some of the sweetest, tastiest chopped tomatoes I’ve ever encountered, as well as a homemade tomatillo dipping sauce. Needless to say, I ate every ounce of the food that was served to me that fateful afternoon.
I chatted up the owner/chef briefly while paying the check. It turns out that she moved to Floyd not too long ago from Chicago. In that giant city, the restaurant would be a notable but slightly ignored establishment. In the New River Valley, it’s a diamond in the rough.
Grade: A-
She Said: Floyd. Just rolls so trippingly off the tongue. Or not. But I’d heard good things about this supposed hippie community situated a mere 30 minutes from Blacksburg. Floyd is home to a rocking Country Store, a couple other restaurants, and FloydFest – a summer musical festival.
And hippies.
A quick note about hippies: there are good ones and bad ones, but when you’re in the middle of nowhere and there’s a bunch of them, they usually have the best food. Find them, eat their granola, find your inner earth child.
As mentioned, we were passing through the area and got hungry. Go figure. There were a couple different places we could have stopped at but Natasha’s looked pretty solid on the way in. It also sounded vaguely familiar to me so we parked and scampered up the stairs.
The interior is open, light, and features shelves of local artists’ goodies. Sitting on the patio was awesome just because we got to enjoy some unexpected November warmth. After our uber zen waitress (I think she was the owner too) brought us homemade focaccia with homemade jam, I picked the Eggs Benedict with local tomatoes and bacon. (BACCCOONN!!!!)
Fresh ingredients, simple combinations, 100% delish. Their brunch menu items ran from about $7-12, but for local organic ingredients, it’s worth it. Their menu is varied enough for everyone to find something they like, but simple enough that they can deliver on each dish.
Definitely worth a stop.
Grade: A
Eating the 'Burg 