The Baker's Palette...again

subject: The Baker's Palette
take-out vehicle: paper bag
cost: $2.00

It's a popular fixture at the weekly city market, but why "The Palette's" little donut machine isn't front and center in their bakery is beyond me. That thing is magical, and I even heard a rumor it runs on fairy dust.

From under its square, city market tent, the donut machine creates but one kind of donut: awesome donuts. These awesome donuts are then sold as either glazed or cinnamon-sugared. My preference was the glazed. It was cakey, super moist, and then even more moist from the healthy drizzle of white glaze that soaked into it. The non-glazed surface, by contrast, was just crisp enough to keep the whole thing together.

It's a pity the city market is in its final weeks. Hopefully the donut machine will keep on cranking through the winter inside the bakery proper. If not, something drastic may have to happen.

Come on! Who's with me? Vive la donut machine!

The Balkan Bakery Cafe

subject: The Balkan Bakery Cafe
take-out vehicle: styrofoam box, paper bag
cost: $10.08

Despite what you make think of my interest in take-out food, I'm no slouch in the kitchen. I cook dinner for my wife almost everyday when I get home from work, and I very much enjoy doing so. It's relaxing. It's fun. And now that our deck has been built, I look forward to hosting and cooking for others even more. Simply put, the act and the art of preparing food are two of my favorite things.

That being said, there are some things that I will probably never want to make for myself, and phyllo dough is one of them. Having worked with the freezer variety just days ago, I cannot imagine the patience it must take to create something so fragile. As awesome as I'm sure it would taste, I just don't have the desire to do it.

So, as you might imagine, I was most impressed when The Balkan Bakery Cafe lady told me she makes theirs from scratch. In fact, that statement alone gave me all the information I needed to decide on my order.

After a brief menu item show-and-tell (she was obviously very proud of her work, but I think she picked up on the fact that I was mentally drooling over the idea of fresh phyllo because she quickly brought out examples of her made-that-morning stuffed-phyllo pies), I chose the meat pie, which she told me was her favorite. It was not a small item, yet as she boxed it up, I stared at the trays of desserts scattered around me and winced as they twisted my willpower's arm. Defeated again (damn you, willpower!), I ordered two powdered sugar-covered, cakey-looking desserts which she described as honey, walnut, and cinnamon cookies.

Let me tell you, that meat pie (which consisted of ground beef, potato, onion, and plenty of black pepper rolled in phyllo, which was then shaped into an oblong coil) was scrumfattylicious. The phyllo wasn't as thin as the stuff I bought at the grocery store, and I'm glad it wasn't. To its advantage, it was thick enough, and had enough butter in it, to create and absorb a silky, creamy, beefy, but barely-there sauce inside the pie. Besides tasting great, it kept the inner dough soft and a little chewy, which contrasted very nicely with the flakier outer dough. Mm-mm-mm.

The potatoes and the onions also added quite a bit to the moist interior, as they were both shredded and incorporated into the meatballs. The liberal use of black pepper pretty much covered up their taste, but being a pepper fan, I didn't mind a bit. If I had one suggestion, though, it would be to add a hint of a strong, whole-grain mustard. I think that would've cut the richness a little better than the pepper.

After finishing the pie, I questioned (again) whether or not I should have a cookie for dessert, but their aroma (again) overpowered my good sense. I'll be honest, I smelled them for a good minute or two before even wanting to take to bite. The scent was a divine blend of toasted walnuts, cinnamon, honey, and baked goodiness. Then I took a bite, and literally, it disintegrated in my mouth. It felt like I had a mouthful of chunky dust. The taste was just fine—pleasantly sweet, nutty, cinnamony—but the texture was...unpleasant. Still, I might buy one again, if only for smelling.

As for the meat pie, I'll certainly buy another one, just as soon as I've recovered from the marathon it'll take to rid my body of this one.

update: I brought home the second cookie and gave it to my wife, who quite liked it. She favorably compared it to traditional Greek cookies. Apparently I just don't like Balkan ones.

update 2: I was also reminded by my wife that she was born of a Greek mother, and is therefore, by default, an authority on Greek cookies. So when she said they were good, I guess she knew what she was talking about.

The Baker's Palette

subject: The Baker's Palette
take-out vehicle: brown paper bag
cost: $2.25

I kinda feel bad for The Baker's Palette. Even before construction began on "The Gleason" downtown, it had a less-than-noticeable location on the far western edge of Garrett Street. Now, unless you know it's there, it's all but hidden.

Fortunately for them, they make "pop tarts," and, from I could see and smell, some rather enjoyable breakfast sandwiches. "Pop tarts," for those unaware, are the vastly superior, real butter-having hybrid of Pop-Tarts® and Toaster Strudels®—and this is coming from someone who ate his weight in Pop-Tarts in college and who still buys frozen Toaster Strudels.

Walking into the bakery, I had no idea what I wanted for breakfast (in all honesty, I was pretty disappointed that Carpe Donut, who just yesterday was in the Wachovia parking lot on Market Street, wasn't there today, as it was my first choice), but my attention was immediately captured by the plate of cinnamon buns in the display case. This came as no surprise as I, like probably everyone else, love cinnamon buns...but I was hesitant to order one. At first (and second) glance, they looked a little light on cinnamon and a little heavy on bun. On the other hand, I had yet to eat a bad cinnamon bun.

Then I saw the "pop tarts" plate. My head went back and forth. It was way too early for such a major decision. Luckily for me, the might-as-well-have-been-telepathic bakerista (that's a word, right?) was there to help me out.

"My favorite is the 'pop tart'," she said as she leaned on the opposite side of the case.

"Done!" Yay for having my breakfast decisions made by strangers!

After eating the "pop tart," I sat for a minute, reflecting. I thought back on all the chemical-laden Pop-Tarts I'd eaten at JMU. I remembered all the maddeningly-tear-resistant Toaster Strudel icing packets at which I'd screamed unrepeatable profanities. Never again, I decided. Never again.

When next I want a goo-filled breakfast pastry that could conceivably come out of a toaster, I shall get only this.

The crust of the "pop tart" made me think of a cross between a shortbread cookie and puff pastry. I could taste the butter and the sugar, just like shortbread, but the texture was simultaneously dense and flaky. A broken-off corner made for quite a tasty morsel.

According to the bakerista, the filling was made from a mix of cream cheese and seedless raspberry jelly. I could barely taste the cream cheese, but the flavor of the raspberries came through nicely and balanced well with the richness of the crust. A drizzle of confectioner's sugar glaze decorated the top.

It wasn't quite a Carpe donut, but The Baker's Palette "pop tart" was by no means a disappointing start to the day.