The aromas hit you the minute you step in the door to put your name on the list of waiting customers: vanilla, butter, fresh-baked bread. It’s the waffles you smell — true Belgian waffles, yeast-raised and served Flemish-style, with butter and brown sugar. It comes as no surprise then that the tiny Westerly cafŽ called Van Ghent, which serves sandwiches, crepes, omelets, salads, the occasional quiche and, oh yes, waffles, was founded by Belgian natives Roland and Rosita Guilliams.

After Roland’s death last year, Rosita kept this popular local spot going, but at the beginning of May, she sold the business to Ebba Pellegrino, as cheerful a cook as Rosita, who still helps out in the kitchen. The menu used to include some soups and stews, but has been pared back to what customers have shown are their favorites. Judging from our Sunday brunch experience, the top vote getters would be waffles.

You can have these waffles with fresh fruit and whipped cream, or Belgian chocolate chips and whipped cream. Or, for a different twist, you can try the "vanilla bread waffle," which is French toast baked in a waffle iron. Served with butter and powdered sugar (and syrup for those who indulge), this was a sweet treat for the three of us (our friend Ginny joined us) before we dove into our individual orders.

Ginny chose the crepes with fresh fruit and whipped cream ($6.95), commenting with wide-eyed enthusiasm on the crepe option with oranges and Grand Marnier. Other possibilities are "Normande," with sliced apples; "Van Ghent," with sliced bananas, ice cream, and hot, homemade chocolate sauce; "Dalmatian," with Belgian chocolate chips; "fraises," with strawberry sauce; and "choco crepe," with chocolate hazelnut spread.

The fresh fruit on the side of the French toast waffle included a garnish of watermelon, kiwi, and orange, and the fruit with the crepe had strawberries and fresh pineapple added to those. Ginny wasn’t as fond of the crepe itself, but I liked it just fine.

I ordered crepes as well, though a warm variation, with carrots, broccoli, and Swiss cheese ($6.15). The lemon chicken crepe beckoned, since the filling is probably the same as what Rosita used to make vol-au-vents; and that was always yummy. The ham-and-cheese crepe can be made with either Swiss or Edam cheese.

Bill studied the omelets and considered the DeVlaming (Flemish), with ham, mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, and cheese, or "Caroline’s special," with ham and boursin. But he shifted his focus to the sandwiches instead, served with a delicious red cabbage slaw and potato chips.

On previous visits, we’ve liked the croque madam, which is like a grilled cheese/ham sandwich with a fried egg on top (croque monsieur has no hat-like egg on his head); the house-made chicken salad; and Rolie’s tuna salad, with no onions and less mayo. Sandwiches often on the specials’ board include the Van Eyck, with fresh mozzarella and prosciutto, and the Breugel, with boursin and prosciutto.

Bill settled on the "maison" ($5.95), a self-proclaimed special in its own right, with thinly sliced pork loin, lettuce, tomato, and hard-boiled egg. A Flemish mustard called Tierentyn, added an extra accent. This sandwich’s "garnish" seemed like a salad in itself, with carrot sticks, a feathered scallion, and a handful of alfalfa sprouts on a cabbage leaf.

The charm of eating at Van Ghent is never dampened by the wait, either for a table (there are only five) or your food (it’s a very tiny kitchen), because everything is so carefully prepared and presented, with the freshest possible ingredients. Part of the experience of coming here is to peruse the collection of collections in this bistro-like space. The sunny front windows hold succulent plants and cacti, along with an array of small birdhouses, wind chimes, and mobiles. A shelf above the wall-anchored radiators holds a collection of porcelain figurines and copper teapots. Even more knick-knacks are lined up in a narrow space above the window to the kitchen.

The wait for food also gives you a chance to become reacquainted with the cafŽ’s namesake, the city of Ghent, which was the second largest city in northern Europe during the Middle Ages (Paris outranked it). Ghent had the distinction of being invaded by almost every other European nation over the centuries, and its cuisine picked up bits and pieces of ingredients from each invader. Nowadays, Belgium’s culinary claims to fame are its beers (300 varieties), its potato dishes, its chocolate, and, of course, its waffles. Don’t miss those waffles!