Strolling down Nassau Street, students pass by the well-known Labyrinth Books and Garden Theater, taking a moment to peruse the books on sale and make plans for their next movie night. But do they ever wonder what lies down the quiet and sleepy Tulane Street?
Rounding the corner, they would discover, tucked between the Princeton Barbershop and the Princeton Record Exchange, an understated pastry shop with rave reviews: The Little Chef Pastry Shop.
Its unassuming storefront is only marked as an active pastry shop by the framed magazine articles propped against the window from the inside and the logo embellished into the glass. Inside, cakes covered with glossy ganaches and jellies await customers from inside a large glass display case. Unless someone decisively peered into the shop, they likely would not know it to be as famous as it is.
The owner and pastry chef, Edwige Fils-Aime, was the star of a 2004 New York Times review affectionately titled “The Little Pastry Shop That Could,” the subject of a 2008 profile in a New Jersey Monthly issue titled “Princeton’s Little Chef Comes Up Big,” and was even awarded the title of ‘best croissant in Princeton’ by The Daily Princetonian in 2015.
Before arriving in the U.S., Chef Fils-Aime — or ‘Pouchan’ as he is known to friends and regulars — lived in Haiti. He immigrated to New York in 1986, where he started as a busboy. He then learned to bake pastries in a French bakery, where he was drawn to this speciality and turned his attention to learning more from the chef.
He moved to Princeton and spent six years as a chef at the Chez Alice pastry shop in Palmer Square, which at the time was located on Nassau Street. In 2003, he started his own venture.
“I want to do what I want to do,” he explained, adding, “I don’t have any pressure. No one telling me what to do, when things need to be done.” As a small business owner, Fils-Aime takes pride in being able to set his own schedule, menu, and hours.
Despite the unforeseen challenges of the 2008 recession and COVID-19 pandemic, Fils-Aime said he has kept his business going by focusing on his work and trying his best. “You don’t really know exactly what’s gonna happen, but you have to be prepared for it,” he noted, shrugging.
“That place is obviously very important to him,” noted Princeton alumnus Sam Harshbarger ’24, who grew up in nearby Cranbury and has frequented the shop since he was young. He described Fils-Aime as “somebody who really appreciates the independence of his work and enjoys being a small business owner.”
Fils-Aime enjoys the “production” of his pastries the most in his day. Most weekends, he rises before 5 a.m. to make his famous fresh croissants, which he never freezes and always makes from scratch. He has been using the same method and recipe ever since he opened his doors 20 years ago.
“I’m really enjoying what I’m doing to serve [customers], to give them exactly the product they’re looking for — do it differently than other places. I’m really doing my best to continue the same product, the same quality for them to enjoy,” Fils-Aime shared.
At opening, trays on trays of scones and croissants clatter onto the counter of the shop. Right on cue, customers stream into the establishment at 9:30 a.m., their presence announced by a tiny bell above the door.
Since opening in 2003, The Little Chef has accumulated a set of loyal regulars, from those that live and work in the Princeton area to a small handful of student regulars.
Navani Rachumallu ’26 started visiting The Little Chef Pastry Shop in spring of 2024, mainly with the goal of visiting her friends from West Windsor who work at the shop. Since then, she has become more acquainted with Fils-Aime and comes nearly every weekend to the shop.
“He’s pretty reserved at first, but he’s really, really funny,” she said of the chef.
Rachumallu’s friend, Sophie Salgian, a student at The College of New Jersey (TCNJ) who has worked at The Little Chef for two years, spoke about their experiences with customers and the regulars they speak with every week.
“In terms of regulars, it’s kind of all over the place. People who live around here, families; we get a lot of cute little kids in strollers who are really excited about chocolate croissants at ten in the morning on a Saturday,” they said.
“People like to open up when they’re buying pastries,” added Salgian, reflecting on the relationships they have built with the shop’s regulars.
On one cloudy and chilly Sunday morning, regulars wait patiently for the shop to open, hands stuffed in pockets. A customer stands in the corner of the shop, hands full with paper bags of almond croissants.
Some customers even travel in from New York City for the pastries, noted Salgian, remarking on these dedicated customers.
“There’s a fan base for this,” added Rachumallu.
When asked about his loyal regulars, Fils-Aime chuckled, taking stock and adjusting his well-worn and trademark Princeton cap. Some, he says, he has known for ten to fifteen years.
Despite The Little Chef’s relative proximity to Firestone Library — where many Princeton students study — this Princeton establishment finds its customer base to be made up of mainly Princeton townies, with only a handful of student regulars like Rachumallu.
“I’m surprised a lot of [students] don’t know about it,” noted Rachumallu.
The shop is cash-only and opens at 9:30 a.m. on the weekends. Salgian finds that most students are likely sleeping and don’t carry cash, two factors that may result in their lower level of student regulars.
The Little Chef’s unassuming facade and location on Tulane Street may also be a factor in its relative mystery to the student body.
“I don’t think people come down here unless they’re going to the record store,” said Salgian, adding, “We’re kind of tucked away.” The Little Chef also doesn’t find it necessary to advertise directly to students, given word-of-mouth and its steady stream of regulars.
“It’s a small street,” mused Fils-Aime. “Sometimes it’s difficult for people to notice.”
When asked if he would ever consider moving his pastry shop to a more heavily-trafficked part of Princeton, like Nassau or Witherspoon Street, Fils-Aime responded with a definite no.
“I like where I am right now,” he explained. “It’s a small place, and quiet.”
Harshbarger commented on the serenity of the shop as well. He described his nearly ritualistic pilgrimages to the Little Chef on the weekends as “an escape from campus,” to a place that was “hidden away in plain sight” from students.
Gil Joseph ’25, an international student from Haiti, learned of the shop from a professor and has visited the establishment a few times. He sees the location of the shop as a benefit as well, but for different reasons.
“There’s something about this being inconvenient that is actually good,” he said, “Because it forces us to be more intentional about certain things and take time out of our days to wander into town.”
For Joseph, interaction with these small businesses in the Princeton area serves a larger purpose than just renowned croissants.
“I wish there was a lot more intentionality for us to engage with the town,” he said. “Get to know it because we are here for four years.”
Joseph noted how student involvement with the town has often been with the closer, more easily accessible places on campus and highlighted the importance of engaging further with Princeton’s establishments and history.
He added, “I would love to be able to support a business like this that has been around for a while, that’s run by one guy … a small, minority owned bakery.”
For Rachumallu, who continues to frequent the shop, The Little Chef has become a large part of her life at Princeton.
“It’s just an unexpected place of gathering that has just popped up in my life. And I’m very grateful for it,” Rachumallu added, laughing before finishing, “And I’m also grateful for the croissants!”
Mira Eashwaran is a staff Features writer.
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