Sunday, November 2, 2014

Seafoam



















Seafoam
Boehm's Chocolates 

Isn't science wonderful?  The same volcanic combination of vinegar and baking soda that I rely on to de-gunk my drains gives seafoam candy its distinctive honeycomb texture.  Molasses adds a rich depth to the flavor and a dark chocolate coating seals in the foamy freshness so each bite is crisp and crunchy.  

Boehm's Chocolates
255 NE Gilman Blvd, Issaquah, WA 98027
425 / 392-6652

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Rabarbergrød

Rabarbergrød
For those of us who grew up in the US on desserts made by mixing boxes of powder with hot water, the categories were simple:  jello was jello and pudding was pudding.  Many favorite Danish desserts, however, blur that line, combining bright fruit flavors and a silky pudding texture.  

Rød grød med fløde or "red porridge with cream" is a classic summer dessert that calls for the ripe bounty of the season: strawberries, currants, raspberries, and rhubarb. It's essentially a summer compote, a thick stew of lightly cooked fruit served cold, usually med fløde, "with cream." ("Rød grød med fløde" is also one of the most notoriously difficult expressions for non-Danes to say, making it a classic test for language learners--and, during wartime, for spies attempting to infiltrate the country.)

Rabarbergrød is a single-note variant of rød grød made from rhubarb alone.  One version calls for simply cooking the chopped stalks with sugar until soft, but for a more elegant and colorful result, the fuchsia juice is separated from the yellow-grey pulp, then reheated with starch (potato, corn, tapioca, arrowroot...) until it thickens.  It can be served room temperature or cold, but of course 
med fløde.  


Rabarbergrød  /  Rhubarb Porridge or Pudding

1 lb chopped rhubarb
5 c water
3/4 c sugar (or to taste)
1/2 c corn starch dissolved in a little water (if using a different starch you may have to adjust the amount or the cooking method)
sugar and cream to serve
Cover the rhubarb with water and boil until soft.  Transfer to a mesh colander to strain off all the pink juice and return the juice to a saucepan.  Stir in the sugar and bring to a boil again.  Remove from the heat and add the starch, stirring quickly and continuously.  Pour into a glass bowl to cool.  Serve room temperature or chilled with cream and a sprinkle of sugar.  

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Coconut Kokis



















Coconut Kokis
Tropicland, $2.95/box

In conversation I described these little Malaysian cookies at "crumb-y" and then had to clarify that the b was silent, not missing.

The term kokis appears to apply to a fairly broad range of cookies, cakes, and breads; these particular ones are mildly sweet compressed nuggets of toasted coconut and bread crumbs.  I imagine you could get something similar by dumping the detritus at the bottom of a cereal box into a panini press.  That their pleasantly abrasive crunch survived the trip from SKS Food Industries in Jahor, Malaysia to a scratch-and-dent grocery store in downtown Seattle might just justify SKS's extravagant plastic packaging.

These happened to be mildly "coffee flavor" ("perisa kopi"), but the manufacturer also offers original and pandan flavors.

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Anti-Griddle-Sicles


Anti-Griddle-Sicles 

Rent, gas, parking, clothing, takeout meals...When a clear-eyed look at their finances showed high-flying New Yorkers Wendy Jehanara Tremayne and Mikey Sklar their daily expenses meant they were literally working to work, they opted out.  They quit their jobs, moved to New Mexico, and transformed their lives into an ongoing experiment in modern self-reliance.  Tremayne's The Good Life Lab documents their discoveries, offering their fellow 21st century pioneers pointers on everything from brewing biofuel to making a dented shipping container habitable.  

Their joyful, sensible approach to life off the grid is exemplified by the delicious treats Sklar whipped up during a recent reading.  The antigriddle is a faddish kitchen gadget that flash-freezes foods placed on its surface and can cost more than $1000.  Tremayne and Sklar's version is a garage-sale cookie sheet set atop a block of dry ice.  For a frosty treat, just tag a toothpick with a mixture of heavy cream, sugar, vanilla, and balsamic vinegar and give it a minute or two to set up.   

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Cheerwine



















Cheerwine

For many American entrepreneurs in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the bubbling sludge of their money-making dreams was soda syrup, not Texas crude.  Since sodas started out as a way of administering tonics and medicines, pharmacists were responsible for many of the field's early successes (including Hires root beer in 1876 and Coca-Cola in 1886), but fizzy drinks soon transitioned away from their medicinal origins.  

While the early sodas featured roots and herbs with some claim to therapeutic properties (ginger, coca, birch, etc.), their younger cousins leaned towards fun, fruity flavors.  In 1917, a North Carolina general store owner named L.D. Peeler tinkered with a commercial recipe for soda syrup until he arrived at an extra-bubbly formula for dark cherry soda that he called Cheerwine.   

Licensed Cheerwine syrups were a hit at regional soda fountains, but Peeler expanded his market even further by taking advantage of the 1899 invention that allowed for the bottling of pre-mixed servings of carbonated beverages.  Today the Cheerwine Bottling Co., headed by Peeler's great-grandson, relies on yet another generation of technology to spread the word.  Thanks to social media, sponsorship deals, a appealingly retro logo, slick radio spots, zeigeist-y slogans ("Born in the South.  Raised in a Glass," "Keep Calm, Drink Cheerwine"), and a tour van that visits college campuses across the country, Cheerwine seems set to bubble on for another hundred years.  

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Charlton's Coffeehouse




















Drinking Chocolate
R. Charlton's Coffeehouse

Since just a whiff of Swiss Miss can send me back to snowy afternoons in the 1970s, I wasn't all that surprised to find that among the many more-or-less historical flavors available in Colonial Williamsburg's pubs, restaurants, and kiosks, there is a time machine disguised as hot chocolate.  

The building that houses R. Charlton's became a coffeehouse soon after it was constructed in 1750, and was under Richard Charlton's management by the mid-1760s.  Growing up in London, Charlton would have had ample chance to experience that city's thousands of coffee shops and to appreciate that the eponymous beverage was actually less important than the exchange of ideas and opinions it fueled.   Located conveniently close to the colonial Capitol, Charlton's Coffeehouse also provided newspapers and a particular kind of privacy to its men-only clientele.  It was a place where they could gather to freely discuss the news of the day, and, on occasion, to act; some of the events of the October 1765 Stamp Act resistance took place at Charlton's.

In 2008-9, the Victorian house that had been built on Charlton's foundation was removed to a new site and the coffeehouse was reconstructed using historic records.  Attention to period details shows in everything from the reception room's eye-popping wallpaper, to the entertaining gossip shared by the prattling "Mrs. Charlton" (below left), to the choice of complimentary beverages offered to each visitor:  tea, coffee, or chocolate.  

Every single person in my tour group chose the chocolate, served in small china cups with cream on the side.  Like the building itself, this chocolate is an 18th century revival funded by the Mars confectionery company's historic division.  The process of making it is laborious but so low-tech that it is sometimes demonstrated on site:  cacao beans are roasted, cleaned, crushed, ground, and diluted with hot water.  To cut the beverage's natural bitterness, Charlton's adds an historically accurate blend of sugar, cinnamon, vanilla, nutmeg, anise, cayenne, and orange zest--far-flung flavorings that taste nearly as exotic now as they would have to the building's original patrons.  





Thursday, August 21, 2014

Pink Radio Cake



















Pink Radio Cake
Fido, $4.25

A beet bonanza several years ago led Fido's pastry chef to experiment with using beet puree to add subtle flavor and not-so-subtle color to the coffeeshop's standard cake recipe.  The resulting "pink radio cake" is sort of a dialed-down red velvet:  cake moistened with buttermilk, oil, and vinegar and held together with cream cheese icing the color of a Barbie birthday party.  

Judging from other pictures I've seen online, some batches are definitely beetier than others, with one or more of the cake layers looking like a wedge of rouge.  Maybe it's a seasonal thing? 

Nostalgic old-Nashville aside:  I can so clearly remember the building's previous life as Jones' Pet Shop, where the puppies in their tiny cages were both adorable and pitiful, impossible not to look at.  

Fido 
1812 21st Ave S
Nashville TN
615/777-3436

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Colt's Bolts


















Colt's Bolts
Nashville Airport, $1.99

On the one hand, a Colt's Bolt is a dressed-up Reese's Peanut Butter Cup; on the other, it's a country song wrapped in foil.  

On the label of each confection is a 1980's glamor shot of blonde in a red power suit, company owner Mackenzie Colt.  A teenage wife and mother with talent and ambition, Colt was a regular at open mic nights at the Ramada Inn lounge near her St. Louis home, where she was discovered by Buck Owens.  After touring as Owens' protege, she moved to Nashville for a six-season stint as a scantily-clad "Hee Haw Honey." 

When she aged out of her Hee Haw role, Colt had a Plan C waiting in the wings:  a lifelong passion for baking and confectionery.  In 1984 she began to combine chocolate, peanut butter, and roasted almonds into candy cups she called Colt's Bolts.  At first she mixed all of the ingredients in her own Cuisinart and wrapped the finished cups in the foil left over from chocolate bars she melted down for her coating.  All that had to change after Colt's Bolts won the Fancy Food Show's Outstanding Confection Award and a Japanese distributor ordered 60,000 pieces. 

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Mom's European Food & Deli


















Russian Mini Chocolate Bars
Mom's European Food & Deli, $6.99/lb

Soap Lake is a tiny town in central Washington built around a lake long famed for the healing properties of its foamy waters and slimy mud.  Modern environmental factors have put a dent in those powers--and in the number of tourists visiting the town's spas and resorts.  From the car I saw two going-out-of-business sales, several vacant storefronts, and the empty lot where town boosters had once planned to erect the world's largest lava lamp.

There was no one else in sight when I parked by the public swimming area just a block from downtown, rolled up my pants, and waded into the shallow, slightly effervescent water.  There was no one in sight as I stood ankle-deep in mud, creamy and insubstantial as Cool Whip, and wondered what it would be like to live here. 

I was starting to get a little spooked when a stroll down main street finally filled in a few of the blanks.   As I passed a strikingly well-stocked yarn store, there was a flurry of activity; car after car pulled up and a dozen chatty women got out carrying snacks and projects for the weekly "stitch and bitch."  

At the other end of the street, I found Mom's European Deli, a strikingly well-stocked emporium of foods from Russia and the Baltic region--deli staples like meat, cheese, and specialty breads, but also row upon row of sweet snacks.  The dozens of individually wrapped hard candies, caramels, and nutty little dark chocolate bars  (like Clumsy Bear, Nut Cluster, Kara Kym, above) are sold pick-and-mix style by the pound, as is sesame and sunflower halva, cut to order from huge marbled blocks.  There are also sweet drinks, boxed cookies, and bags of confections like zephir, a pastel hybrid of marshmallow and divinity.   The cold case is stocked with fresh cakes from Russian bakeries on the east coast, carried back by long-haul truck drivers returning from a New York run.  

The beach may no longer be bustling, but an unexpected bounty of beautiful yarn and Russian treats prove that there's still life, creativity, community, and celebration behind Soap Lake's hard-luck facade.   

Mom's European Food & Deli
331 Main Ave E
Soap Lake WA
509/246-1121


Thursday, April 10, 2014

Royal Bakery



















Green Tea Cake (top)
Green bean bread (bottom)
Royal Bakery

Although the front window features a wizened monstrosity that might just be Miss Havisham's wedding cake, the rest of Royal Bakery's glass cases are filled with fresh and attractive Korean-style breads, tarts, and cakes.  The green tea cake is a delicate sandwich of sponge and whipped-cream frosting with a mild but appreciable bitterness--ideal (green) tea party fare.  For breakfast treats, there's a range of soft, yeasty buns buns filled with velvety jam made from beans of every available hue.

The Royal Bakery
15210 Aurora
Shoreline, WA 98133
206/362-5188



Tuesday, April 8, 2014

New York Suggestions?

I'm heading to New York tomorrow--first, to teach a weekend jewelry workshop at the 92nd St Y, and then to eat myself silly for the following week. My agenda currently includes:
Payard
The Hungarian Pastry Shop
Rice to Riches
Minamoto Kitchoan
Bespoke Chocolate
Babycakes
Momofuku
Vesuvio
Mitsuwa
Jacques Torres
The Doughnut Plant

Any other suggestions? The more obscure, the better, and I'm quite willing to travel to anywhere worth trying!

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Buñuelos



















Buñuelos de Miel
Guanaco's Tacos, $4

If Guanaco's excellent pupusas and tacos leave your stomach with room to spare, then the buñuelos de miel will do their best to satisfy.  These pillowy balls of golden-fried yuca dough have a pleasing texture but little flavor of their own, so they're drenched in miel de panela, a syrup made from cane juice that's been evaporated and re-liquified; it's as sticky as runny honey but lacks honey's complex flavors.  Buñuelos de miel bear more than a passing resemblance to gulab jamun, but they are less sweet and served blisteringly hot. 

While I'm thrilled that I no longer have to schlep all the way to White Center for pupusas, the Salvadorean Bakery remains my top spot for sweet Salvadorean treats.   

Guanaco's Tacos and Pupuseria
4106 Brooklyn Ave NE (at 41st)
Seattle, WA  98105
206/547-2369

Saturday, April 5, 2014

Sweet Laurette's



















Black Bottom Cupcakes
Sweet Laurette's, $3.50

Word has it there are no bad choices to be made at Sweet Laurette's, a bakery, cafe, and bistro located a short (uphill) walk from downtown Port Townsend. It was enthusiastically recommended to me by a local grandmother who takes her granddaughter for breakfast every week.

The French-inflected bakery offers coffee by the bowl and indulgent treats such as "Oblivion Torte" (a flourless chocolate torte with bittersweet glaze) and black bottom cupcakes (above; a grown-up Hostess cupcake filled with cream cheese rather than "creme"). There are a few tables out front (below left), a few more inside, and plenty of sunny weather seating in the arbor-shaded side garden. Breakfasts and lunches at the adjoining bistro feature French favorites made with PNW ingredients.

Sweet Laurette's
1029 Lawrence St
Port Townsend, WA 98368
360/385-4886

While in Port Townsend, I stayed at Rosewood Cottage, a ridiculously charming guest house in a quiet, convenient neighborhood between downtown and Fort Worden.







Friday, April 4, 2014

On Common Grounds

















Vanilla "Wedding" Cake
On Common Grounds, $4.50/slice


I recently read something that surprised me: serving for serving, vanilla cake generally contains far more sugar than chocolate cake. I decided to take a scientific approach to my doubts, ordering a slice of vanilla "wedding" cake at On Common Grounds, a cheerful bakery and cafe just off the road that most travelers take between Port Townsend and the Hood Canal Bridge. The cake was everything vanilla cake should be: light, buttery, generously frosted and generously proportioned. It was also made with such powerful vanilla that I knew it would be coming out of my pores for at least the next 24 hours.

Just minutes after I scraped the last frosting off the plate and set down my fork, my eyes went glassy and my pancreas started revving like an airplane engine: scientific proof from the Marie Curie of cake.

On Common Grounds
8972 Beaver Valley Rd (Hwy 19)
Chimacum, WA 98325
360/732-4467



Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Elevated Ice Cream



















Elevated Ice Cream
62¢/oz.

Established in 1977, the Elevated Ice Cream parlor on Port Townsend's main drag is a long-standing local institution that became a "destination parlor" more recently, when the Travel Channel voted it one of the best in the country.

Elevated's ice creams are made on the premises at least twice a week, using a base mixture manufactured to their specifications in Snoqualmie. Elevated products aren't organic, but they are made with the highest quality ingredients and RBST-free milk, and they're currently working on new recipes free from corn-based sweeteners. The ice creams are 12% butterfat--satisfying but not stupefying--and the non-dairy Italian ices are low- or non-fat.

After sampling an embarrassing number of Elevated's innovative flavors, I ordered apricot and cardamon ice creams and chocolate Italian ice; all were great, but the spicy-warm cardamon was a standout. Another Elevated innovation is selling by weight rather than by the scoop (no more silent prayers for a heavy-handed scooper!). According to the list of average weights and prices for small, medium, and large cups my "medium" cup was on the small side, but I was consoled by the thought that I hadn't paid for more than I'd gotten.

Elevated Ice Cream

627-631 Water Street
Port Townsend, WA 98368
360/385-1156

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

La Boulangerie



















Tarte Normande
La Boulangerie, $4.50
The need for carbohydrate comfort first steered me into La Boulangerie several years ago, when a movie I was desperate to see at the theater across the street sold out just as I got to the ticket window. Fast forward to now and I can't remember the name of the movie, but I can recall every bite of my consolation treat, a meltingly tender and spicy baked apple encased in a buttery croissant--a chausson au pomme.

Today, the knowledge that a chausson was waiting just down the street got me through a routine physical with a smile on my face. Sadly, by the time I got to La Boulangerie, my chausson had gone home with somebody else--probably while I was still reading a tattered Popular Mechanic in the doctor's waiting room. Although it was once a much larger business, La Boulangerie is currently a one-man show, and patchy selection is perhaps inevitable. Owner/baker/barista Xon N. Luong fires up the ovens at 5am daily (except Monday when the shop is closed and Luong allows himself to sleep as late as he likes), but things can and do sell out. (Some online reviewers have also reported inconsistent service and cleanliness, but I've never experienced these issues myself).

Scanning the cases for a chausson substitute I couldn't for the life of me remember: is it tarte tatin that I like....or tarte Normande?

Turns out it's not tarte Normande ($4.50). A beautiful thing with a crenellated crust and a filleted apple fanned out on top like a hand of cards, it was as golden as an ingot--but nearly as dense, weighed down by almond paste and a gummy glaze. It was just too heavy for my tastes, in terms of both texture and flavor.

A buoyant and balanced almond croissant ($2.70) was just the opposite, teetering between flavors and textures like a master tightrope walker. The crisp exterior cracked into shards (not that dust that just blows away when you try to eat it), tethered together by the chewier inner layers. The sweetness of the perfectly-proportioned almond paste seam was enhanced by the salted butter in the pastry.

As ephemeral as they are, Luong's pastries are also reminders of the enduring, widespread, and oddly quotidian ripples that emanate from political conflict. Chaussons, tartes, and croissants all belong to a culinary tradition introduced to Luong's native Vietnam in the 19th century under French colonial rule. Luong himself picked up the skills at age 13, when his father died suddenly, leaving Luong in charge of the family bakery. Although he has had many other occupations, baking helped Luong to cope with the upheavals of the Vietnam war and his later relocation to Seattle, where he has been baking (and telling fascinating true stories) at La Boulangerie since 1995.

La Boulangerie
2200 N 45th Street
Seattle, WA 98103-6904
206/634-2211


Monday, March 31, 2014

ChikaLicious


















Grapefruit Brulée

ChikaLicious, $12 for 3 courses

Just like eating breakfast for dinner or walking a cat on a leash, a dessert-only restaurant is a delightful perversion of the natural order. At the ChikaLicious Dessert Bar, there's no need to save room for dessert, because dessert is all you're getting.

A $12 prix fixe "meal" includes an amuse-bouche, main course, and a plate of assorted petit-fours. Another $7 buys either a wine pairing or an additional main; tea and coffee are also available. The menu changes daily and seasonal ingredients feature heavily. Tables are an option but bellying up to the bar gets you a stage show in the bargain, as the pastry chefs behind the counter dodge and twirl around each other in a kind of plating ballet (above). Come on the right day and chef-owner Chika Tillman will be there to chat about her creations.

ChikaLicious doesn't accept reservations and the website lists substantial "typical waits"
for particular days and times. They also won't seat groups larger that four, a pragmatic move for a place that can only accomodate 20 patrons at once, and one that helps to encourage an atmosphere that's convivial rather than deafening.














According to its website, the ChikaLicious concept boils down to "American desserts, French Presentation and Japanese tasting portions". For most of us Big Gulp-suckled Americans it will be the portion sizes that illicit the strongest initial reaction. On my visit, the amuse du jour was a scoop of vanilla ice cream about the size of a quail egg, buoyed on a few spoonfuls of dark, aromatic, espresso gelee (above left); absolutely delcious, quickly dispatched. My friend Gary and I amused ourselves further by considering what items might best be used to add a sense of scale to my photos: a quarter? his pinkie finger? a family of seamonkies?

For mains, Gary had macerated kiwis with yogurt gelato, lavender syrup, and a jaunty "coconut sombrero" (below left), while the woman on my other side chose the iced Fromage Blanc "cheese cake" (above right); both issued favorable reviews.














I had the grapefruit brulee, two wedges of caramelized fruit gussied up with candied pistachios, a light sabayon, and another quail egg of slightly bitter, boozy sorbet. It was a lovely play of flavors and textures--smooth cream and spiky citrus, crakly dry nuts and juice-swollen fruit. My only criticism is predictible but, I think, springs from a generous impluse: if it had only been one bite bigger, Gary might have been able to have his taste without me growling at him.

The minute petit-fours were, sadly, anti-climactic: a dark chocolate truffle as appealling as a dusty raisin, a tiny Ritz-ish cracker topped with cream and candied citron, and, best of all, a lovely fresh marshmallow sided with toasted coconut.

Just across the street the ChikaLicious Dessert Club offers stylish reinterpretations of classic baked goods and treats in a more casual setting.

ChikaLicious Dessert Bar

203 E. 10th St.
New York, NY
212/995-9511

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Bespoke Chocolates



















Southampton Tea Truffle

Bespoke Chocolates, $2.25


Extra Place doesn't exactly welcome visitors,
particularly in the gathering dusk of a late winter evening. It's a stunted alleyway just off the Bowery, too small to appear on most maps, wallpapered with graffiti, and, on the occasion of my visit, bedecked with police tape. That it's not the kind of place where you'd expect to find an artisanal chocolate shop makes stepping out of the alley and into Bespoke Chocolates that much more delightful.

Open less than a year, Bespoke has made its name with impeccably crafted small-batch chocolates featuring creative flavor profiles. At the helm is London-trained chocolatier
Rachel Zoe Insler, whose previous career was in "academic cognitive neuroscience research".















While I don't want to belabor that transition or cast Insler as a cocoa-streaked mad scientist, it's hard not to look at the shop and see echoes of a laboratory or an old-fashioned apothecary as apron-clad chocolatiers bustle around in plain sight behind the gleaming marble counter of an open kitchen. As they patiently answer questions about their creations, it also becomes apparent that their process is suspiciously scientific.

I asked about the genesis of my chosen truffle, the Southampton Tea (top photo), and heard a tale of drawn-out research and methodical experimentation; infusing the silky-smooth ganache with a maximum wallop of apricot-scented Ceylon tea was not as straightforward as you might think. While the shell of fruity Caribbean chocolate comes from
readymade couverture, it was given perhaps the most perfect temper I've ever experienced; snapping my front teeth through the shell seemed to set off tiny shockwaves, and a millisecond later the glossy chocolate cracked into two halves held loosely together by oozing ganache.

Bespoke is also famous for an award-winning confection filled with liquid, sea-salted caramel and rolled in crumbled pretzels (below right, front), and a hand-beaten spread of chocolate, hazelnuts, and Marcona almonds (in process, below left).














Bespoke Chocolates
6 Extra Place

New York NY, 10003

212/260-7103

Saturday, March 29, 2014

The Doughnut Plant

Link
















Les Tres Leches Doughnut
The Doughnut Plant, $2.25
While the Doughnut Plant's website is full of streamlined graphics and elegant animation, by far the most moving feature is a slideshow of owner Mark Isreal's family photos, ending with a heartfelt thanks to his supportive loved ones. Several black-and-white snapshots feature his grandfather, a commercial baker who died with Isreal was only a toddler but left behind a valuable legacy scrawled on a yellowing index card: the recipe for an egg-free yeast doughnut.

Those light, fluffy, and vegetarian-friendly doughnuts were the foundation of the grandson's fortunes. For five years, working in a converted tenement basement, Isreal baked through the night, then delivered doughnuts to high-end retail outlets by bike each morning. In his spare time, Isreal perfected an original recipe for a stellar cake doughnut, now available in flavors such as Blackout (chocolate encrusted chocolate cake bursting with chocolate pudding) and the Cinco de Mayo-inspired Les Tres Leches (pictured above). The Factory's square jelly doughnuts are also a departure from the norm; instead of a single jelly core waiting to drop in your lap like hot lava, there's a generous seam of house-made fruit preserves circling the dough like an enclosed racetrack.

Doughnut Plant products contain no transfats, no preservatives, and no artificial flavors. They are made with carefully chosen ingredients--Valhrona chocolate, Tahitian vanilla, fresh coconut, seasonal fruit, and nuts that are roasted and ground on the premises. Ingredients like lavender buds, Meyer lemons, or rose petals that could end up as just so much frippery are used deliberately and to full, flavorful effect. Overseas shops (in Tokyo and Korea) have a slightly different menu, featuring local produce and flavors (shiso and yuzu!).

After waiting in a long but snappy line at the Plant's Lower East Side store, I ordered a cup of hot, strong chai and a Tres Leches and perched on the windowseat to eat. The seat was delightful--crayon-colored tiles stamped out with a doughnut cutter and raku-fired by Isreal's father, Marvin. The doughnut was even better--plump and light, with a milky glaze and a mildly sweet, sensuously creamy filling. The "three milks" were in harmonious balance, no one flavor or texture overpowering the others. As I ate I found myself thinking of St. Exupery's definition of perfection--"...not when nothing more can be added, but when nothing more can be taken away.”