The Petite Triangle is pretty self-explanatory. It’s petite. It’s a triangle. And it’s a freaking trifecta of flavor, hospitality, and selection.

A TINY little restaurant in a triangular building, The Petite Triangle is squeezed onto a plot totally out of Paris… in Ohio City. Maybe eight tables encompass an open kitchen – almost Hibachi style, but instead of flying eggs and flames, you’ll see ribbons of crepe-batter poured onto hot plates. It’s an obtuse dining experience (Yes, I totally just rocked a 7th grade geometry class reference) with a triple threat of savory entrees, high-end cocktails (with petite prices!), and mind-blowing desserts. I suppose that makes it a sextuple threat.

Speaking of sex, lets talk Nutella. The biggest things inside the Petite Triangle are the gi-a-normous jars of Nutella. They’re like kegs of chocolaty-hazelnut goodness hanging out at the bar, sweet enough to get giddy on. I fantasize about that stuff. I am beginning to think they were mixing endorphins into it. Yes, I realize that chocolate is supposedly an aphrodisiac, but The Petite Triangle’s Nutella is ridunkulous. It will catapult your date into bed faster than Mathew McConaughey in a Versace speedo. Perhaps this is because they import their Nutella straight from Italy (unlike everyone else around here, who order it from Canada). Wrap that up in a paper thin pancake with some fresh cut bananas, a dollup of airy whipped cream, powered sugar and a finely sliced strawberry – voila, you’re a Cleveland Casanova.
Ok, so I jumped to dessert first – let’s backtrack. I had always thought of The Petite Triangle as a Creperie – I. Stand. Corrected. There are soups, salads, steaks, pastas, many a de-feathered fowl and fish, omelettes… and I haven’t even touched on the extensive wine list. That tiny kitchen is like a culinary clown car – more and more and more and MORE food keeps popping out from behind the coffee brewer, from under the marble counter, from around the back corner and past the wall of wine. Each dish makes its entrance with a tantalizing aroma and a happy “ding” from the ready bell. Then it is swept tableside by a wait staff so naturally personable, you’d think you must have known them from a previous life.

Every single dish has a personal touch or a substituted ingredient that owners Joy and Tom have perfected over their twelve years of business together. Joy claims their finesse comes through trial and error and their cumulative experience in the catering business. I was surprised to learn that neither have a culinary degree – and I don’t give a Ratatouille’s ass. There is so much natural talent packed into that place, it’s amazing it hasn’t imploded. Good thing they’re planning on expanding the venue in September. Currently, you may have to wait 20 -30 minutes for a seat at Sunday brunch, but believe me, people wait… for this:

A brown sugar cube doused in orange bitters, fizzing at the bottom of a sweet champagne cocktail. A fresh leafy Mojito infused with a simple syrup pressed from fresh lavender petals … and here’s the best part: $5-$6. Kalamata olives instead of those bitter Nicoise ones to go with your Pan-Seared Salmon over Salad. But The Petite Triangle won my heart with the Steak & Boursin.

To those non-French-speaking-people like myself, Boursin is a cream cheese so creamy I actually thought it was butter. Now imagine fresh baguettes slathered in the stuff with two big fat steaks lying on top.

Ohhhh yeah. Let’s not forget the caramelized onions and homemade Lyonnaise potatoes, all painted with a hint of oil and spice.

My final impression: The Petite Triangle is an unobtrusive obtuse delight with two owners that know what taste buds crave. I give it an “Mmmmm” with 5 Ms.

The Petite Triangle
1881 Fulton Road
Cleveland, OH 44113