Say what you will about Starbucks. Sure, they muscle dozens of perfectly good local coffeehouses and roasters out of business every year and flatten the coffee landscape as they go. They burn the crap out of damn-near every shot of espresso they pull. They’ve changed conventional wisdom about what a simple latte should cost, let alone taste like. *shudder*

However, one of the greatest fallacies to be found in those reassuringly red-lit environs are the spectres they attempt to pass off as PASTRIES.

Limp, lifeless, wooden, weak, alternately too-sweet and flavorless, they scarcely deserve to be called baked goods. Nay, they seem to have been belched out of some nefarious cousin of the Nutri-Matic machine from the Hitchhiker’s Guide series, endlessly turning out items that are “..almost, but not quite, entirely unlike pastries”

In these health-concious times, a pastry is almost a revolt- a personal snicker in the face of calorie-counters, for the sake of sacred communion with the butter, the chocolate, and the holy toasted almonds! Certainly nothing to be sneered at. A pastry is a commitment, a pact, the cause of many brisk runs to the gym. A pastry should tantalize the senses, envelop the soul, and send one into swirling rapture.

..or at the very least it should TASTE GOOD, right?!

*pant* *pant*

Excuse me. Anyhow, here in S.F. we’re blessed with not only some wonderful coffee :roasters, but a good amount of local coffeehouses that have yet to give up the ghost, and most of these serve pastries that just wipe the floor with their plasticine Starbucks equivalents (and let’s not talk about, shh, the COFFEE).

My favorite place for a pastry and a cup of drip in my neighborhood is Squat & Gobble, a place which also does quite good crepes and other offerings. It’s 3 or 4 doors down from me, the coffee is servicable and the pastries are local and fresh.

The place showcases art from local folks, and the people working there are friendly in an unforced way. They are an indelible part of the neighborhood in a way that no megachain could ever be.

On mornings when :L gives me a lift to work, I have a little ritual whereby I pop down there and grab a couple of large coffees and a couple of yummy things to go. This morning, I nabbed the tasty treat pictured above, and a slice of lemon cake just for kicks.

We soon sped off, sharing the bounty on the way. I really admired the texture of this pain au chocolat- yeilding, soft, smooth and buttery, yet subliminally crisp on the outer layer. The filling, Nutella! No everyday pedestrian ganache here, boy. The thing disappeared so fast I could barely find time to shout in glee.

To contrast, Starbucks’ version is generally oily, overcooked, and stale. Certainly not worth the hit to your figure. Why do they do this? Moreover, why do we buy them? Convenience is a virtue, but at what cost?

Thenceforth, I call for a microboycott on bad pastry, wherever you may find it. A message must be sent. Our voices must be heard. Subvert not thy urges. A pox on plastic pastry, says I.

—

On a lighter note, I’ve been getting into bruschetta lately. I’ve found that local bakery Acme’s herb slab loaf cuts up into wonderful little slices that are perfect for this task. I must admit, most of my topping experiments have not been of the traditional tomato-y variety. I may be stretching the term to even call these creations bruschetta at all, but I will, and I’ll smile when I say it, damnit!

So.. Get your thinking caps on, folks- what would taste good.. On crunchy bread.. With olive oil and garlic? Well, what wouldn’t? This was a particularly good recent iteration..

Bruschetta Con i Funghi del Basilico: (please correct me if BabelFish missed the mark)

Coarsely chop a large handful of your favorite mushrooms and plop the lot into a bit of extra virgin olive oil on a skillet heated to medium. Cut a few basil leaves into fine ribbons, add to the pan, and stir.

Once the mushrooms have softened, press a clove or two of garlic into the mixture, and follow it with a pinch of coarse sea salt and a bit of cracked black pepper.

Add the requisite small squirt of Braggs and a hint of balsamic vinegar, and remove the pan from the heat. Cut a bit of crusty bread into thin slices and toast to golden brown on a baking sheet in your oven or toaster oven. When finished, top with the mushroom mixture and a further small drizzle of olive oil

You’ll see that in my example, I’ve paired this delight with a bit of 4-year-aged gouda, a bit of leftover chardonnay, and some organic cheesepuffs. Ah, the luxuries of home cooking! (everybody has a vice, I suppose..)

By now you’ve probably noticed that most of my cooking hinges on several pivotal ingredients- Braggs, basil, limes, mushrooms, tofu, tumeric, curry paste, fish sauce, etc. These are just my core ingredients.

As you get cooking, you’ll probably notice that your own favorite things have become a sort of centerpiece in how you do things, even as you shift from cuisine to cuisine, dish to dish. This is why cooking for yourself is so magical, because who knows your secret desires better than you?

‘Til next time, perky cilantro to you,
-gc

Filed under: Philosophy, Recipes

2 Responses to “In Defense Of Decent Pastry + That Blank Canvas Bruschetta”

1. xaotica Says:
   November 2nd, 2005 at 6:35 pm

   interesting that you mention this.. i’m from seattle, and our local ‘alternative’ weekly, the stranger, has had a series of pastry exposes in which they go around the city tasting pastries at both chains and local stores and complain about how crappy the majority of them are.
   it makes NO sense to me, because throughout most of my food experiences, i’ve been of the belief that the more unhealthy the food is, the better it should taste to me. but these crap pastry imitations DON’T taste better, and i consider it idiotic if you can’t make a 600-700+ calorie laden bundle of sugar taste good.

2. George C. Says:
   November 2nd, 2005 at 7:52 pm

   I know! Can you believe it? The other peevy thing I forgot to mention is how deflated most of this crap pastry is.

   They go to all of the trouble to roll loads of butter or whatever into the dough, get it all light and flaky in baking, then unceremoniously smash the poor confections 4 deep into a plastic-wrapped cardboard tray, under another 12 boxes of abused treats, ship them who knows what distance..

   I mean, you’ve got to move them somehow, but the specimen in the pic above is proof you can get a pastry from a bakery to a restaurant without gross harm. You probably just shouldn’t transport them across more than 3 time zones, that’s all!

   I don’t know.. I can’t say I haven’t been at least temporarily soothed in my weakest of moments by some kind of god-awful papier-mache-like cinnamon twist or something, but I usually feel like biking uphill for an hour afterwards- 180 degrees from the point of treating onesself.

   Thanks for the comment, I needed some backup on this one.

   -=GC

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