With our time here on Manhattan coming to a close (we leave on Wednesday and I’m fighting that reality very hard) we decided it was well and truly time to flick our “fuck-it” switches and just eat baked goods for an entire day. My stomach is inflamed as hell today as I write this post, but when you follow this croissant-crumb trail, you’ll know it was worth it.
In the sunlight of another beautiful spring morning, we moseyed on down to near union square, where (Instagram-user-recommended) Daily Provisions can be found. They have five shops in New York - four on the island and one in Brooklyn - and they are famous for their crullers. Those not in the know, might glance at a cruller and think ‘oh, just another doughnut’, but they’d be sadly mistaken. A cruller is much lighter than a doughnut, thanks to its choux pastry base (those coming to the choux pastry class at my baking school will be pleased to know that crullers should be on the menu!) and as a result seem to be much squidgier when drowned in a glaze. I think I prefer them.
What with it being so early, and with a whole list of locations ahead of us, we restrained ourselves and decided just to share a passionfruit and coconut cruller and a chocolate brownie. I also had my first dirty chai latte (a chai latte with a shot of coffee) and was completely converted. If I don’t eat my way to certain death, I may drink it in sweet dirty chai. The cruller was insanely delicious - moist on the inside, crisp on the out, with that doughy chewiness that I want as soon as I open my eyes in the morning (New York makes me greedy!). The sharpness of the passionfruit was a perfect foil for its sweetness. Along with the Milk Bar pie, the Katz’ Reuben and Los Tacos (see previous posts) this was up there with the best food of the trip.
The brownie, however, made me lose hope in all of humanity. Why don’t these New Yorkers know that a brownie should be gooey and chewy? Cakey, cakey does not a brownie make-y, and so far all of the brownies I’ve had over here are like little slabs of rich chocolate cake. They’re perfectly delicious, don’t get me wrong, but I want a brownie that is so dense and sticky it’s a real risk to life; will it get stuck in my trachea and asphyxiate me? I don’t know. But that’s a risk I’m willing to take (if I’m ever given the bloody chance!).
From Union Square we walked down Lafayette street to Lafayette bakery, which I’m sure you’ll have seen plastered all over social media for their disc croissants (they’ve called them the ‘suprêmes’. And while the demand for them may indeed be supreme, the ironic thing about this kind of bakery item is that behind the hype and inflated price tag, they’re probably cheaper to make than a traditional croissant - just even strips of laminated dough spiralled up in a ring mould and baked, rather than precise triangles of dough for traditionally shaped croissants, that always tend to leave offcuts and need to be given plenty of proving space (dead money) on the baking sheet. But, I swallowed my cynical smugness and gave it a try - we opted for the pistachio suprême - and supreme it was. The shape and size of the disc means that with every hearty bite you get some of the silky, nutty pistachio custard. When it comes to baking tradition, I’m more conservative than Margaret Thatcher in a chef’s hat, but Lafayette has made me want to rethink everything I know (the Levain cookies still aren’t cookies though, that’s a hill I’ll die on!).
We also tried their brownie, and while it was better than Daily Provisions and Fat Witch (see earlier post), it was still too damn cakey! I’m giving up on the quest for the perfect brownie in New York. I’d rather save the money and calories and make my own when I get home. If, indeed, I get there…
Just a few doors down from Lafayette is La Cabra, a coffee and pastry chain established in Denmark in 2012. As well as their home-roast coffee, they’re celebrated for their pastries, so we enjoyed a cardamom bun and a canelé (a baked custard that is soft on the inside and caramelised and crispy on the outside). Both were just perfect (and that’s after stuffing our faces at the first two places).


Still hungry for more, we had to visit Dominique Ansel on Spring Street. It isn’t new - we came on our last couple of trips - but it’s as popular as ever, with a long queue running parallel to the counter. In 2013 Dominique notoriously trademarked the ‘cronut’, and they’ve been sought after ever since. It’s laminated (croissant) dough, shaped and fried like a doughnut. The flavour was raspberry and rose, and while I’m wary of the soapy, grandma’s-knicker-drawer flavour that rose can convey, it was balanced remarkably well, and only served to bolster the tangy raspberry: an excellent pastry indeed, still worth queuing up for 11 years later. To finish the feast and cleanse the palate, a sharp tarte tatin sealed the deal - a generous mound of caramelised apples on a sable Breton base.


After a sugar-fuelled march around the city, then a run, then hitting a personal best on squats in the gym (I wonder where I got that energy from…) we were craving protein and salt. Attached to our hotel is Skirt Steak, a very minimal restaurant in decor and menu: it’s like a Danish shed/sauna, made entirely of pine on the inside, and they serve just one thing: skirt steak. For $45 dollars you get a steak, salad and unlimited fries. You can upgrade to Waygu for an extra $20, but we were happy ‘slumming’ it. Everything about the meal was perfect: the steak was juicy and tender (a feat that takes a very good chef on such a tough cut that, in the UK, is traditionally sold as nowt more than stewing steak) and the chips tasted like they were made in the chip pan at home by mum. The peppercorn béarnaise was something I could drink by the bucket load - velvety and peppery. I saved my fried egg and plonked it on top my second portion of fries, and was instantly transported to my childhood farmhouse in Lancashire. It was food to soothe the soul and stabilise the blood sugar levels; though that was once again disrupted when they wheeled out the old-school dessert trolly. I couldn’t resist a slice of the rich chocolate cake; though, I did save it for once my food had digested after a short elevator ride back to the room.
I am indeed salivating! Delicious, tasty, indulgent morsels with a loving husband, what could be better - the recipe for a full and happy marriage! No need to search for that ultimate chewy, gooey brownie to deep throat though - you've definitely got that recipe in the bag back home! Joni at the Grammys and a Bakery Crawl....what more does one need? Exceptional ❤️
Once again a brilliant entry, from your vivid description of the sweet treats I can almost taste them you are indeed making my mouth water most of them sound delicious. You were always going to be disappointed with the Brownies as you are fast becoming the Brownie King I don't think anybody could make them to your gooey gorgeous standard. Thanks once again for sharing your day and findings in such glorious detail 🥰