Rye Goods: An Extraordinary Bakery

A recent visit to my hometown Newport Beach involved some nostalgia. I walked around Balboa Island with Stacy, a dear childhood friend, reminiscing about our days on its beaches, swimming across the bay. Another old friend, Diane, and I talked about the cats we’d had when we were little and tried hard to remember all of their names. When I headed along the Pacific Coast Highway to Rye Goods bakery, I passed the bike route which I took to the beach on 36th Street nearly every day, summer after summer.

In a past post, I wrote about how my friend Mandy had urged me to go to Rye Goods the next time I was in Newport. She seemed to have the menu memorized, and offered nothing but rave reviews about the bakery. One morning I was supposed to pick up Stacy in order to head to Rye Goods together. However, the more I thought about it, the more concerned I became that the selection would have dwindled by the time I caught up with her mom and we circled back to the bakery. Being a lifelong friend, Stacy understood my dilemma and said she trusted me to choose our picnic items. I felt confident about being up to the task, yet once I entered the bakery, I lost my mind.

Every item in the case, and each loaf of bread on the shelves across from it, seemed to call my name. Mandy insisted that I purchase a loaf of five seed sourdough bread, made with spelt, rye, flax, pumpkin, sesame, and sunflower and poppy seeds. Not buying two loaves is something I deeply regret. Once I returned to Santa Barbara, my husband and I enjoyed it toasted, with butter and jam, spread with stinky yet delicious Époisses cheese, and as a sandwich bread. It is tender, with a little chew, and the crunch of seeds was a treat. This morning, I was crushed to see that only a sliver of this outrageously good loaf remained.

Although the amiable cashier did not pass judgment, he did appear awestruck by my manic selections once I told him they were just for two people. I simply could not stop myself. On the savory side, I chose a slender baguette, stuffed with brie, arugula, cucumber, avocado, and a light sauce with a hint of citrus and heat which I could not identify. Upon his recommendation, I got a sourdough croissant filled with Gruyère cheese, fresh herbs, and “a little heat.” Again, I couldn’t identify the exact source of the heat, but it added a nice dimension to the croissant, balancing out the richness of the cheese.

Once lunch had been sorted, I ordered a plain sourdough croissant, an item I regularly use to assess a baker’s skill. This croissant was phenomenal: it shattered when I took my first bite, leaving shards down my front and on my lap. I did not care! Properly made croissants should leave you looking like you are covered in edible confetti. I can never resist a coffee cake: this one was very moist, reminding me of carrot cake, with ribbons of cinnamon and perhaps cardamom streusel in the center and on top.

Perhaps my favorite sweet was the surprising chocolate coffee croissant. It was filled with a dark chocolate ganache that almost tasted like Mexican chocolate, with its slight spice and complex flavor. Atop the croissant was a heavenly coffee glaze, flecked with tiny bits of coffee bean. Usually I am not a fan of glazes on croissants or scones, but this was different. The flavor of the glaze was perfectly balanced, and I used a spoon to scoop up any of the flakes which landed on my plate.

To say that I enjoyed my food from Rye would be a gross understatement. Though I was tempted to inhale everything in my excitement, I deliberately slowed myself down and relished each outstanding bite. Perhaps my focus on the food caused me to momentarily lose the gist of my friend’s words more than once. But Stacy is a big-hearted friend who was okay not being the center of attention. If I lived near Rye, and by near I mean within a thirty mile radius, I would go there several times a week.