Minor Gourmandry

A Lil' Spot with poor results

The move towards glamorizing doughnuts began on the dessert menus of trendy restaurants (see Starr's Buddakan or Keller's Per Se), where chic and homey were meeting in unexpected ways. Just call it post-modern comfort food.

Soon after debuting as a dessert, these newly hip rounds migrated to the bakeries of NYC. The City's Doughnut Plant became the epicenter of the upscale doughnut (Dean & Deluca and Zabar's). The formerly humble "donut" could now be found covered in (Valrhona) ganache or a fresh blueberry glaze.

During a food crawl this past July, I happened upon an alleyway dive that I recognized as the recipient of Philly Magazine's "Best Doughnuts, 2004" award. Painted in bold-type above the entrance was the name of this glorified breakfast cart, Lil' Spot. I walked in hoping to see dougnuts of a different breed, but I found myself staring at the face of Dunkin Donut banality. I was bummed, but a winning taste could have revived my fleeting hope for a really good fried confection.

I chose a thick vanilla-glazed doughnut and a handful of these mini cinnamon donuts that reminded me of Linvilla Orchird's warm cider doughnuts. My hopes were quickly dashed with a bite into the ersatz vanilla-glaze; this is the kind of treat that gives real vanilla a bad name. Next I munched on one of the tiny cinnamon rings (see picture at top). Immediately I got the awkward sensation that I was eating a fried "Chinese pancake." Although the sweetness of the cinnamon and sugar were potent, the sides of my tongue detected sesame oil and a hint of soy. For an instant I took pleasure in this perverse Chinese-American confection, but the eerie aftertaste erased any further enjoyment. I'm glad I passed on the "regular" glazed version.

Until Philly can shake itself from its passé carb-phobia and embrace this fried ring of cholesterol (ouch, doughnuts need better PR), I am left with only one decent doughnut purveyor, the Amish.
How I crave gourmet doughnuts!

One final note: An apple-filled beignet, the holeless French doughnut, is available at Le Petit Mitron in Narberth. It may not be a true substitute, but a fresh, airy, and lightly-sugared beignet should please those unsatisfied with its American counterpart. Around Philly, it's as gourmet as it gets.

Location:
Lil' Spot: 103 S. Juniper St. (intersects with Drury St)

Le Petit Mitron: Directly across from Narberth train station (on vacation until September 7th, 2005)

St. Honore Bakery and other oddities

Odd. I'm in Chinatown, and standing in front of a bakery with a European name. I walk in and find no Parisian aesthetics, no croissants, and no jacked-prices. The fanciful individual cakes in the glass cases are much more akin to Swiss pastry than anything I can think of, and the price tags ($1 or less), are typical of street venders' fare. This is Sino-French food run amuck.

The majority of goods available at this and similar Chinatown Bakeries -- another favorite being K.C.'s Pastry Shop -- was even more alien to me than the low-pricing. Under the glass cases you'll find oversized breaded and fried buns, rectangles and disks of puff pastry (gok), and other oddities. The fillings range from sesame paste to red bean (azuki) paste to BBQ pork -- ingredients customarily associated with dinner plates.

But, at 60 cents a pop, purchasing a couple of these foreign "sweets" is low-risk. Pictured in my hand is the black bean bun, which is a dense disk filled with a heavy, sweet black bean. The "bun"  itself is a flaky puff pastry with many sandwiched layers, not unlike a turnover. I didn't find this one to be much of a treat because of the near chalky texture. The red bean bun provides more flavor and less school-supply aesthetics.

The pork-filled pastry rectangles and buns are also hit-and-miss. The buns (boa or bow) are palm-sized, airy, and buttery; with the spare filling, the dough cloys and diminishes the decent pork flavor. The rectangle turnover style pastry had less dough, but the BBQ pork inside looked like dog chow, the taste wasn't much better I'd suspect.

I found consolation in a "sesame ball (doy)," as it was called at several bakeries.The thick exterior portion is glutinous rice ball, which can be fried or simply steamed. Most sesame balls are fried and then covered with sesame seeds. The inner pocket is a mixture of sesame seeds and sugar ground nearly to a paste (like a chunky sesame butter). The ball is gummy but not displeasingly so, making it a unique gastronomic treat.

The Pastries Aren't All Sweet, But the Drinks Are

Most bakeries also tend to carry an array of everyone's favorite tapioca drink, Bubble Tea. I usually pass on the cold tea concoction, not for its lack of taste, but because of the gimmicky tapioca pearls (sago) piled at the drink's bottom. Besides from taking away from the amount of
liquid you receive, the little pearls are awkward tasteless balls of jelly (and I should mention the little balls pack a caloric punch). They're fun in small amounts, but the drink often contains a dozen pearls or more into the cup. On the bright side, they're cheaper than any Starbucks drink - usually $2.50 or less (maybe $3 for a large smoothie) - and come in rare flavors like green tea (matcha).

Instead of Pearl Tea I tend to go for an iced coffee Hong Kong style, or, when available, Vietnamese style. The former is basically a typical American iced coffee kicked up a notch with a little cream and lots of sugar to obviate any bitterness. The hot coffee is usually cooled so the ice doesn't melt from the heat and ruin the drink. The bakeries always manage to make the drink tastier than my feeble sweetening attempts do.

Vietnamese Iced Coffee is made when a French-pressed dark roast coffee is dripped or poured over a layer of sweetened condensed milk. Ice is then added before the drink is stirred to combine the layers. The ice melts, but because the French roast is so strong it does little to dilute the drink. (There are other ways to make this iced drink, but all of them involve said ingredients.) Vietnamese Coffee is available at Vietnam Restaurant and sometimes at Banh Mi sellers, like Cafe Y Nhu or Ba Le Bakery.

Locations:
St. Honore Bakery - 935 Race St, Philadelphia, 19107
K.C.'s Pastries - a) 109 N 10th St, Philadelphia, 19107 b) 145 N. 11th St.

Links:
- One of few sites to offer a personal guide to culinary crossovers from the East. The site sometimes includes authentic menu names and translations...and crappy pictures: Gaijin Girl's Guide to Chinatown.
- For more about Bubble Tea check out Interesting Thing of the Day (Did you know that the tapioca pearls usually aren't even made from true tapioca?)

Yann Patisserie and Cafe

I've always been picky about sweets and snacks -- even as a tot you'd never find a Nutter Butter or a bag of Doritos (that smell!) in my paw -- but it was not until last year that I discovered, to my dismay, the unruly sway finding and consuming the best quality sweets held over me.

Thank goodness, then, for Yann Patisserie. If I ever find myself in dire need of some truly decadent and undeniably French staples (you know - Éclairs, Mille Feuilles, Piedmonts, Fraisiers...) I can always make my way to South 18th Street. Few places can match the sheer grandeur of Yann's pastry display case. The sight, the smell, the flavors! (Is anyone else overwhelmed?)

While at DiBruno satisfying my cheese yen, I felt pangs for something sweet and French. Sis and I stopped in Yann for a small snack. She opted for the "Best of Philly" Hot Chocolate, which I'd had before but felt was too syrupy and creamy (but still no where near as thick and creamy as the Ritz's Chocolate Somelier's version). With some added milk to counter the thick chocolate, she called the resulting liquid "immensely delicious."

I went for the Chai, whose lower-than-a-cappuccino price tag appealed to the miser in me. Well, it really sucked, almost tasting as if it was steamed with soy; sometimes spending the extra dollar goes a long way. For my snack I managed to turn away from the charms of the more decadent case (pictured), looking instead towards the laminated dough area: danish, croissant, pain au chocolat, and brioche. I went for the shimmering Raisin Roll.

It's outermost layer was a lightly browned sugar glaze that played well off the thin layers of butteriness inside. I was surprised by how delectable the simple roll was, due, in part, to the little raisins that added a welcome pop of sweet-tart taste to the dough. The roll was thin too, so it didn't feel like I'd eaten from one of the many supposedly French pastissiers that transmogrify tinnier Parisian treats to make them easier, bigger, and over-the-top rich (think cakey, quad-layer Napoleons and bread-like croissants). Yann would never stoop so low.

There is one treat at Yann whose size overshadows the rest of the glass-case dwellers: the classic chocolate eclair. Eating Yann's version was not much different, in feel, than having a hotdog. A very good chocolate one at that. The eclair had a thicker than I'm used to choux shell, with a nice browned color and slightly sweet flavor. The thick cream inside was abundant but pretty fluffy and very tasty. Unlike a hotdog, the pastry didn't cause any indigestion. In fact, it may just be the best one in Philly.

   

Note: Yann Patisserie has closed. Read more here.

The Best Damn Cannoli

I really like Italian Pastry Shops, at least more than I ever thought I would. I used to loathe their tendency to over-cream and over-frost, and found their liberal use of nuts unappetizing. And then I went to Isgro's Bakery in the Italian Market. Down to their smallest cookie, Isgro's does it up right. They take pride in each of their glorious creations and should be the paragon of quality control for other Italian shops. While it's still true that many Italian pastries tend to overwhelm, there is serious quality in many of the desserts - Sfogliatella (my favorite! "svoy-a-dell"), Napoleon (although I prefer the French version, mille-feuille), Tiramisu, Almond Macaroons... But the most recognizable and most beloved of all Italian sweets, the cannoli, always seemed a bit overrated, subject to many of the criticisms above.

My first ever cannoli, which was purchased at Termini Bro's in the Reading Terminal, reinforced my uncertainty. "What makes these so damn popular?" I thought, as the crisp shell cracked and the thick ricotta oozed onto my pants. In all fairness, I didn't altogether abandon cannolis. A few months later (the past Christmas), after hearing a couple of rave reviews from Chowhounds and EGulleters, I ventured into the depths of South Philly to give a little place called Varallo Bro's a try. I was actually headed to Potito's, which had just been featured in Rick Nichol's Inquirer column, but it was close to Christmas and the place was hopping. Varallo Bro's was busy, but the line was manageable. I approached the counter worrying that my typical vacillation in front of sweets would incur some South Philly 'tude, so I quickly ordered one ricotta cannoli and got the hell outta the way.

Walking along 10th and Morris, I took my first bite. Heaven I tell ya! Then I knew, I understood why it was advisable to "leave the gun" and "take the cannoli." The shell was light and layered, but crispy enough to sink your teeth into, and best of all the damn thing held up. The ricotta filling was great, not too sweet or overwhelming, and studded with ginger bits and mini-chocolate chips. I was loving every minute. Only one question mark remained, why hadn't I bought a dozen?

Competition: With DeSanka, a sweet little mum-and-pup joint with supposedly knock-out cannolis, closed for business, the competition in South Philly really boils down to Isgro's, Potito's, and Varallo Bro's (I may need to taste a Termini Bro's fresh from their main location on 8th before I fully exclude them). Thanks to VB's, I rank cannolis right up there with sfogliatella as my favorite Italian treat, so I'm sure I will eventually hit all of those spots. If I didn't, I just wouldn't be the Minor Gourmand, now would I?

Varallo Brother's: 1639 S 10th St. (off Morris Ave in South Philly)

Potito's: 1614 W Ritner Street

Isgro's: 1009 Christian St. (off Italian Market)

UPDATE: I just returned from Isgro's; this post elicited a cannoli craving so I decided to treat myself  - let's call it a consolation prize for completing the literature exam I took at eight this morning. Sadly, their "best" cannoli reminded me more of my Termini experience: shell like a pizelle cookie, too-rich ricotta cream. Yea it was ok, but I ate it with a raised brow and again asked myself, "what's all the fuss about." Maybe it's just me...

Tartes

Don't bother trying to google this quaint little bakery. For some reason, I find nary a mention in any local publications or any semblance of advertisement. Could it be the product's dubious quality? Far, far from the truth. Tartes bakes-up some of the most scrumptious individual pastries I've had in Philly, each one more delicious sounding than the last. At their very modest shop at 212 Arch St., a tiny window full of items is all that is for sale; I wouldn't be suprised if people leave with the whole lot. Most of their business comes from the sales they make to restaurants (I guess), but when I asked they only named a few -- Monk's was one that I can recall.

  What's funny about Tartes, is that not only has the bakery managed to isolate themselves between two parking lots on an otherwise bustling block, but they've also chosen the oddest little building to set up operation. Usually a hole-in-the-wall operation makes food comparable to its surroundings, which is why I found Tartes to be so odd. When I walked up to the window, I saw that the owners had put much more care into their kitchen, decking it out with some Kitchen-Aid Professional stand-mixers and bountiful stainless steel bakeware. The stuff was certainly kind, but I felt like a waiter who had poked my head into the kitchen to call for an order. Having heard on Chowhound (where else), that the Key Lime Pie was impeccable, I ordered one of those and two cookies: Chocolate Chip, for my dad, and a glazed Pumpkin Spice for me. The pricing was less modest, around $4.75-6.25 for Tartes and $1.50 for cookies, but nothing to scoff at. 

I gobbled down half of the Pumpkin Spice cookie, amazed at how cakey and soft the interior was. The speckled brown sugar glaze was awesome, and caused me to attempt a replication in my own kitchen (see results here). The other half was periodically disappearing as I dodged traffic on the way home. The pie was of equal merit, tart and sweet with a fantastic crust. It was almost too lemony tart for my taste, but anyone in my house who managed to cadge a nibble agreed it was pretty damn good.

   I must return to Tartes to sample some more of their goods, you know, for research purposes. This is my first in a series of bakery posts that will chronicle my noble quest to find the best pastry our city and its regions have to offer. So far, Tartes is definitely one of the top bakeries for individual desserts, better than Pink Rose Pastry Shop if you ask me, maybe better than Petit 4 Pastry. Check out some more reviews of individual items (hopefully I'll have some viewable menus soon!) over in the photo album section.

Straight From the Left Bank

It was hard not to chuckle when I first heard a patisserie was opening in Narberth. The town had been spiraling into the realm of cultural wasteland -- there was little reason for anyone to make the trip from local Bryn Mawr, let alone make a 25 minute commute from Philly. Although still struggling to distinguish itself from its upwardly mobile surroundings, the quaint town has taken some measures to spruce up its center "shopping district" by attracting some more distinctive establishments.