Wholly Cannoli!

While Michael has done a superb job at giving our readers (you!) a travel log of our wild expeditions, I've been a bit, well, busy. See, Michael has most of his evenings free and some time during work to catch everyone up on where we've been. Whereas my week nights are filled to the brim with school on Mondays and Tuesdays and then mostly laundry and bill paying on Wednesdays and then we're out the door and back on a jet come Thursday morning. That was the routine for the past four weeks: Work for three days, travel for four. It hasn't been until now, and the conclusion of our All-You-Can-Jet passes that life has really slowed down and I've been able to catch up on everything that has happened — the great, wonderful, fantastical, can't believe we actually did them — things that Michael has written about.

But I have another subject to tackle: bakeries. Our trips were really two-fold for me. I was able to spend some much needed time with dear friends and family while visiting a few bakeries. The schooling I previously mentioned is to receive a baking and pastry certificate. I want to one day open up my own bakery, so every place we visited, from Duxbury to Sarasota to Boston and New York, was an opportunity for me to examine how other bakers and shop owners do it. And they all did it differently.

Our first trip to NYC included a checklist of must-see bakeries that have become popular, in their own way, with New Yorkers. Our very first eatery was a mobile truck unit called Cake & Shake. It features a small number of cupcakes and shakes each day. The customer never knows what cake or shake is baked and mixed on any day of the week — a brilliant plan to keep customers coming back (other than the fact that both are delicious). Obviously, the cupcakes are not baked on the truck, but the milk shakes are made on site. I imagine this business plan allows for lower overhead costs, less employees and a unique experience for customers. But it's not the bakery for me.

At least five different bake shops were found inside the Chelsea Market but the two that stick out most in my mind were both bread houses: Sarabeth's and Amy's Bread. They were very similar in that they allowed people to view the entire bread-making process. Glass windows allowed onlookers to watch as bread — such a simple, simple food — starts from flour, water, yeast and salt and turns into rolls, baguettes, boules, bagels and more. The process is really fascinating, even if you're a "non-baker." A dozen workers shaped, pressed, decorated, baked and then sold bread in the adjoining sales room. It is most unfortunate that we did not actually buy a loaf of bread from one of these shops, but it excited me to see that other people were as interested in this age-old practice as I am.

City Market, our next bakery, this one in Midtown, was kinda/sorta what I pictured myself owning one day. I liked that cookies, muffins and simple sweets were offered. It was bustling. Employees wore aprons dusted with flour smudges. A second level offered seating and a wonderful view of the activity happening below. But I didn't like that it also offered a salad bar, pasta bar and other hot foods. I want to focus on coffee and old-fashioned, don't-need-an-ingredient-list-to-know-what-it-is baked goods. The tastings I had from City Market were grand, but the atmosphere seemed sterile and too big for me.


There is sooo much more to eat in New York City than I'm not telling you about: Crumbs (LOVELY black and white NYC cookies), Momofuku Milk Bar (a bit weird and dodgy), Magnolia's Bakery (quite popular and busy to the point where it was claustrophobic inside but loved that we could watch bakers top off cupcakes with whipped frosting while we ordered and paid). And I'm sure thousands more. But there was also some fine eats in Massachusetts and Florida that I want to tell you about.

First, Florida. The peninsula astounded me with its bakery options, well at least the many we found in Sarasota. Who ever would have thought that a coastal vacation town was ripe for traditional French and Italian bakeries? But they are! Oh and I can't even remember their names but they left quite an impression on me. These bakeries are classical, rich, decadent and delicious but not at all pretentious in their surroundings. Outdoor wrought-iron tables and chairs welcomed patrons to sit for a sample of key lime pie, a taste of a mini eclair, and a cream puff suited with dark chocolate. Tiny tarts of frangipane coupled with blueberries and kiwi with a grape top hat were wonderful two-bite treats. The tiramisu was out of this world; can I have some more, pretty please, I will dream about you tonight, fabulous. I fell in love with a thick slice of sweet napoleon and I had a very strong inclination to change my next flight to Paris so I can sample even more decadence from the town with the Eiffel Tower. (Michael here: I must brag that I talked Sara, the coconut-hater, into trying a coconut-loaded macaroon in Sarasota. And I think she kinda liked it.)

Boston should not be nicknamed Bean Town. I will forever think of it as Wholly Cannoli. Our second night in the city we sought out only three bakeries: Maria's, Mike's and Modern Pastry. All are within the North End and less than a half-mile from each other. Our first visit was to Maria's and my first observation sort of surprised me: it was busy. Maria's is not new, not flashy, not big. It is Italian and there was a line a few feet out the door to order traditional butter cookies (something like 30 different colorful varieties were stored in open containers along the back wall of the store. It reminded me of the cubbies I'd stuff my lunch box and coat into when I was in second grade). There was a refrigerated display holding empty cannoli shells -- Maria fills them when they're ordered. There were lobster tails and sfogliatelle, both traditional Italian puff pastries. Less, seemingly unpopular items included pizza and gelatto. Michael ordered a cannoli or two and I ordered a sfogliatelle and an item I can't remember the name of but can be described as a log of nuts and nougat coated in milk chocolate. I very much liked the log and only enjoyed the sfogliatelle. Michael raved about the cannoli. I've never been a big fan of cream-filled items, whether they're doughnuts, pastries or cakes. But it seemed to be a hit with everyone else; after all, there was a line out the door and it wasn't the logs flying off the shelves.

Mike's Pastry was next. We knew before even finding the place that Mike's was a popular joint. We'd seen many a commuter carrying a box with the blue Mike's label on it during our time on the T. We didn't understand exactly how popular until we were halfway down the block and realized the line in front of us was for Mike's. So, we moved on to Modern Pastry without even going inside Mike's. We also learned Mike's was a cash-only place and we are both card-carrying-only spenders. We thought Modern was more modern (Ha!) and would allow the use of plastic, but no. It was cash only as well. So, after finding an ATM, we decided to return to Mike's and wait a mere 20 minutes or so to see what all the fuss was about.

When we finally got in the door we were introduced to a sea of hungry Bostonians -- all wanting cannoli. There was no congruent line to point us the right way. In fact, there were so many people swimming about that I can't even describe what the floor looked like, what hung on the walls or if there were even tables and chairs to chat about on. There were so many people. And I started to get excited again. Not about cannoli (oh brother there was so much cannoli in so many different forms and flavors) but because I realized people were going to bakeries — in crowds. Bakeries! And what they want isn't a trendy fru-fru cupcake but a classic, century's old cannoli. A curved, crispy shell filled with a cream and dusted with confectioners sugar. Oh, I was so happy! And I don't even like cannoli but it tickles me to know that people appreciate food, working man's food, comfort food — the kind of food I want to make them.

Traveling and eating in New York, Boston and Sarasota taught me some very sage advice. No matter how different the destination, the one thing they had in common (for me) was an ability to attract and retain a hungry populous. Food was appreciated. It was waited for. It was flocked to. It was devoured and talked about.

It made me hopeful for the day when I open my bakery to a line out the door.