In my youth, I spent many a summer in the port city of Busan and was certainly spoiled by the local fish markets that carried a variety of aquatic specimens from your average trout to giant octopuses and the exotic pufferfish. After being exposed to this level of fresh off the boat quality, I have always been wary of other seafood: simply because it is hard to match those standards. With all that said, I am not quite sure what possessed me to order the crab sandwich in this charming combination cafe/laundromat, but I am definitely glad that I did. The simplest things in the life are sometimes the most rewarding and this sandwich certainly subscribes to that thesis. The crab, and crab alone, is given center stage and takes full advantage of the spotlight as it is substantial, yet delicate. It is sweet, but never overpoweringly so. The supporting actors in this production are a playful sherry gastrique, finely-tuned mayo, and decadent Jarlsberg cheese. Each of them do well to elevate the protagonist without ever usurping the show. Everything about this place was great, from the wooden countertop seating to the washing machines' humming.
The whole town of Charleston beckons back to an older, idyllic time and Persimmon Cafe is the culmination of this sentiment. This spot is just begging for you to hop on a bicycle, grab a sandwich, down a root beer float (not pictured but also a must-try), and pedal away on the cobblestone roads, beneath the summer sun, to nowhere in particular.