Now, I have to say that I’m not a big fan of blueberries for much the same reason that I’m not a big fan of raisins– I can’t stand the darn stems that often remain intact in cookies and pies.  This slice of blueberry pie was astoundingly good, however.  The fruit was vibrantly fresh tasting and not too sweet, and the crust had a lovely raw sugar top that complemented the filling perfectly.  And a little dollop of unsweetened whipped cream was just the perfect accompaniment.

I had never had lemon chess pie, so I was very curious.  Chess pies are apparently a Southern sugary custard pie made with corn meal.  No one seems to know the origin of the name.  Perhaps it’s from keeping it in a chest or from saying that it’s “‘jes pie,” as opposed to cake or something.  Whatever it is, this slice was quite good, but not as amazing as the blueberry.  The lemon flavor was very delicate and it wasn’t overly sweet at all.  My only problem with it was that it was a bit soggy, but that was really probably due to the fact that it was 80 degrees in there.  I guess they don’t have AC?

While we were eating our spoils, a huge group of tourists/vultures came in and snapped up the rest of the lemon chess pie, and under “PIES:,” the in-store chalkboard soon read “♥ Blueberry.”  It was only about 4pm, and they were almost out of everything.  But that’s really the way every bakery should be.  The fact that they run out of stuff means that their stock is always fresh.  Well done, proprietresses Melissa and Emily Elsen, now that my G-train is running all the way to 4th Ave., I’ll be visiting your shop again soon!

Note: you can’t buy whole pies on the spot– you have to call ahead and place an order with 48 hours’ notice.

PHB’s best offerings, unsurprisingly, are its breads. And oh, such breads! The Taisan mini, like a cross between chiffon cake and brioche, was so moist and light, with a wonderful spongy mouth-feel. It had butter and finely granulated sugar on top, which leant a lovely sweetness and hint of crunch. The Pan de sal, or salt bread, was not really salty at all, but rather vaguely sweet. It was soft and warm and delicious. Apparently, this bread came over to the Philippines from Spain long ago and used to resemble a French baguette, but due to a decline in the quality of wheat, it eventually became soft and poofy. I guess I like weak wheat! The Ensaymada ube, or purple yam brioche, was also excellent. It also had the fine sugar on top, but with the addition of grated cheddar-like cheese. Weird, I know. You’ve got this sweet, doughy, squishy roll filled with purple yam jam, and then you’ve got this cheesy bite. I will dream about these breads.

On a totally non-dessert note, if you’ve never been to a real old-school movie palace before, do yourself a favor and hit up the Jersey City Loews, which is surprisingly easy to get to off the Journal Square Path Train stop. I recently saw “The Third Man” there and can’t wait to return on March 27th, when they fire up “On the Waterfront.” Oh, the heartbreak when Marlon Brando famously says, “I coulda had class. I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am, let’s face it.”  Happy Friday!

These cupcakes were very fine indeed.  The origami-like pointy wrappers were very pretty.  (I wonder if they’re more difficult to frost than cupcakes nestled in normal wrappers?)  The cakes in our chosen specimens were moist enough to be tasty, but not so moist as to collapse under their icing roofs.  The Strawberry cupcake had real fruit chunks in the cake.  The Mocha cupcake had a slight coffee flavor, but was mostly chocolate– just the way I like it.

Since Baked and Wired is a café, you can also get some coffee and a slice of quiche, then take a load off under a big American flag they’ve got as part of their modern, minimalist, hipster-attracting decor.  Georgetown Cupcake, you shouldn’t be closed on Mondays– people’s eyes wander… their heads turn… and before you know it, they’ve got a new favorite.

To get an idea of how good the food is here, just imagine actually eating at Bouley, the restaurant, but instead of having waiters serve you, you get it yourself.  To call it a buffet, however, would call to mind– very inaccurately– memories of, say, Ponderosa.  I mean, this place has duck à l’orange and the most decadent croques monsieurs of your life, for pete’s sake!  You get to take your spoils into a fancy-pants dining room.  Sure, the plush seating is somewhat stained and grotty, but what do you expect?  I just like the fact that they trust the public to keep the mess in check.  Plus, they’ve got real silverware and washable plastic water cups all ready for you, so yay for the environment.  They’re only open until 8:30pm, and they’re not open on Saturdays, which makes me wonder if they’re worried people will decide to save some major dough and come here instead of Bouley.  It’s really that good.

I could actually feel my head spinning at all the dessert options.  With baked goods everywhere I looked and almost every conceivable French pastry and bread on offer, I was in pure heaven!  I forced myself to buckle-down and choose three dainties, for $5.25 each. The Pear Tart is described as “pear sautéed w/ honey, vanilla, & a hint of saffron atop a hazelnut cream.”  It was the teensiest bit dry, but excellent overall.  I didn’t get the saffron, but I got a nice pure pear flavor over a tasty, sweet pastry shell.  The Montebello ($5.25) is “pistachio creme dacquoise, crispy pistachio praline, pistachio mousseline, & fresh raspberries.”  This was the most interesting of the bunch, probably because ice cream is the only pistachio dessert I’m used to.  It had so many layers of that rich, nutty flavor, and they were nicely offset by the tartness of the raspberries.  Last was the Jivara, a “milk chocolate brownie with pecans, milk chocolate chantilly, & vanilla crème brulée.”  I just can’t resist round chocolate bomb-looking things like this.  They are almost always as delicious as they look.  And when I reached the crème brulée layer of this one, it was aaaalmost too much, but not quite.  I closed my eyes in reverence.  Major points go to this place for making interesting French pastries like these.  Milles feuilles and opéras are fine and all, but it’s nice to try something different.  On a later visit, I tried something I’ve heard of, but never seen before– a canelé, which is basically a little cylindrical sweet bread that has a caramelized crust with a custardy middle.  I found the outside to be just a bit too caramelized (bordering on burnt)-tasting, but again, kudos for even having the thing, and I’m sure my smokey-caramel-lovin’ brethren will enjoy it.

I called to find out who the pastry chef is, and it’s apparently a (French and/or Swedish?) guy named Bjoern Boettcher.  The person on the phone didn’t want to give me any more info, and a quick Googling of him produced nothing, so here’s my shoutout to you on the interwebs, Chef Boettcher!  Your pastries make me happy to be alive, and I’ll be chez vous soon…

From the cheerful flowers painted on the windows to the shelves overflowing with baked goods to the employees wearing jaunty berets, this place is really trying to say, “I know we’re in a weird location, but we’re legitimate, we assure you!”  And they are.  There are two pastry chefs here: Jean-Claude Perennou, a former executive pastry chef at the Waldorf-Astoria for 12 years & his assistant, G. Sabaratnam (Samba).  With such experience, I wondered what delights they’d craft.

We got in about an hour before they closed, so I tasted everything bearing in mind that everything wouldn’t be at its height of freshness.  The Praline Crunch ($3) fell into this trap, and was just ok.  It was pleasantly chocolatey, but the praline layer had no indication of its titular crunch, and another cakey layer was somewhat stale.  The Framboisine ($3.50) was much better.  It had a simple vanilla or white chocolate mousse which was a great foil for the sweet ‘n tart raspberry jelly in the middle.  The Macaron ($1) was not-so-great (also not crispy/soft as it should be).  And while I’m at it, the coffee was watery.  But wait!!  Everything else was magnificent!  The Caramel Puff ($0.75) had a lovely caramel brittle on top of a pastry poof filled with silky vanilla cream.  The Tarte Au Citron ($2.50) was a perfect citrusy-sweet delight, and the Paris-Brest ($3) was a decadent hazelnut cream puff– possibly my favorite of all.

If you live anywhere near here, you should become a regular.  If you don’t, this makes for an enjoyable foodie outing, and you’ll spend about 1/2 the price you’d usually spend on fine pastries in Manhattan.

Red Hook too far out for you?  Well, either pay the markup for one of these suckers at the St. Regis or Peter Luger’s, or make a day of it in the Hook: gorge yourself on pupusas at the Ball Fields you’ve heard so much about, visit the Barge Museum (featuring a Rube Goldberg machine and live lop-eared bunny), then be good and get some shopping done at nearby Fairway.