After many years of listening to my New York born parents complain about the lack of real bakeries in San Diego, I have come to appreciate how difficult it is to find an authentic pastry within driving distance from my Encinitas home. Difficult, but not impossible. 

Isabelle Brien’s French Pastry shop is the closest you can get to France without leaving the West Coast. Tucked away on the edge of the Encinitas Towne Center, and overshadowed by the always bustling Trader Joe’s a few doors down, it is a spot only known to a couple dozen elderly regulars and those passionate enough about pastries to seek it out. The pale mustard walls and checkerboard tablecloths that might elsewhere be off-putting are instead a charming reminder of the cafe’s authenticity and provide a refreshing alternative to the Instagram-worthy cafes that seem to be monopolizing the market. At Isabelle’s, food comes before photo ops, and the warm ambiance is effortless.

It is hardly necessary to taste the pastries to know that they are fresh and made by practiced hands. An open archway behind the counter allows customers to glimpse 

the delicate handiwork behind what ends up on their plates. Bowls of dough, dozens of trays flying out of industrial ovens, and on occasion an ornate cake about to be delivered to some very lucky birthday party. Unlike some commercial kitchens, however, the scene is far from madness- each knead and drizzle occurring with purpose, as Isabelle herself strolls languidly through it all, eyes searching for any sign of imperfection. 

One late morning, as I was waiting for my food to arrive, I observed an elderly couple who had just sat down a table over from me. The woman ordered a blueberry scone, which she placed in between them before taking a bite. “I don’t understand why you didn’t want a pastry,” she marveled, mouth half full. The man replied plainly that he just wanted a bite, but after taking one, proceeded to enjoy more than his share of the pastry before getting up to order another. I laughed a little, knowing that he would not make the same mistake twice. 

The menu at Isabelle’s is extensive but not overdone, ranging from individual pastries to fresh crepes and omelets, paninis, and of course a variety of coffees to wash it all down. The egg dishes are simple and light, the muffins exceptionally fluffy, and the scones - as the aforementioned man demonstrated - irresistible. But the pastry that outshines them all, almost ironic in its simplicity, is the croissant. Soft and buttery to the core, with a golden shell that you can actually hear cracking as you peel it apart. Large enough to call breakfast but so light you’ll be wanting at least one more for the road.

Isabelle’s is not a place for Ladies Who Lunch and overdone birthday brunches. The cafe’s magic lies in its simplicity- the dated decor, simple plating, and unembellished menu serving as constant reminders of its core values. Isabelle’s isn’t trying to be anything more than what it is, and it doesn’t have to. The food speaks for itself. (In French, of course.)