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Do not be concerned: just because I have not posted in a long time does not mean I have not been consuming delicious baked goods. My quest for eating and writing about flour and sugar combinations is still going strong. This post will cover several memorable treats I’ve had since my last post. Eating adventures in New Zealand, Boston, and Napa did not disappoint.

I’ve written before about the little gem of a tea and cake shop, The Cake Room, in Akaroa New Zealand. This spring, my husband and I spent three weeks there (in NZ, not at the Cake Room although my daughter Jane and I spent a fair amount of time there as well). As before, Katie’s creative, unusual, and visually arresting cakes were outstanding. Some particular favorites this time around were her berry scones, light and filmed with an ultra thin layer of butter (and a cheerful yellow pansy!); her yogurt cake topped with a creamy lemon glaze and some thick plain yogurt; and her chocolate cake with fluffy frosting and a bright, orchid-colored sweet pea on top. Then it was time for my 60th birthday cake.

Thus far, I have enjoyed celebrating my birthday. I no longer desire gifts and parties, but like to spread it out, enjoying meals with family and friends over several days (weeks?), never hesitating to accompany these meals with cake. This year, we had two meals in my honor in New Zealand, featuring Katie’s cakes. The first was brunch. From the Cake Room we laid out two mini carrot cake loaves and two berry yogurt cupcakes. Fear not; chocolate was to come later. Each of us dove into the treats with enthusiasm after admiring their whimsical floral embellishments. We also feasted on fresh local bread and delicious eggs. I was incredibly content.

The following evening, we ate a delectable fish dinner. Sure, we were quite full but made room for the breathtakingly beautiful and fantastically divine chocolate layer cake. Jane had asked me earlier in the week if I had any requests for Katie, and I reminded her how much I had relished the chocolate layer cake we’d had at The Cake Room. I think this is the prettiest birthday cake I’ve ever had!

Alas, the Cake Room is now closed, but Katie is still taking orders for cakes and making many people in Akaroa and beyond very happy.

Another trip I took this year was to Boston to spend time with a couple of dear friends. Unfortunately, one of them ended up getting stuck out of the country, but his partner and I forged on, somewhat sadly. Visits to bakeries raised our spirits. JC likes sweets as much as I do, and he was eager to show me some of his favorite spots. One, Michette, is an enviable five minute walk from his house. I couldn’t wait to try it and we sped over there the morning after I arrived. Michette’s croissants are flakey and buttery and pretty darn perfect. We also liked the pain au chocolate and the almond croissant. Oh, and the kouign amann–filled with passion fruit–was a thing of beauty. The photo below does not tell the story of how lovely these were to behold before we cut them in half.

Another day we seemed to walk for miles and miles. Our reward that afternoon was freshly filled cannolis from Mike’s Pastries in the North End. JC had lemon cream and I had pistachio; both were surprisingly light and crunchy.

In September, I met one of my French cousins in Napa, where he has internships at a couple of sparkling wineries. Knowing he was likely missing the bakery down the road from his home in Bouzy, France, I introduced him to Model Bakery. Though we were a bit disappointed in the BLT, a sandwich I had remembered as otherworldly from years before, we were very pleased with the loaf of bread I purchased and each of the cookies we shared with our friends, Juli and Lynne.

During the summer, I went nuts making desserts featuring fresh fruit. Pictured below are a few. Since it is cooling down, by Santa Barbara standards at least, I am keen to make some sweets with warming spices such as cardamom, cinnamon, and cloves. In December I will be traveling to Santa Fe, New Mexico with my husband to visit our other daughter, Camille. When we were there in May I went to some terrific bakeries. Strangely, I did not take photos of any of what I ate. So stay tuned: I am sure we will eat plenty of incredible dishes and I look forward to writing about them.

P.S. I noticed that Katie served all of her cakes with nifty cake forks. Look closely at the photos from The Cake Room. How was this utensil unknown to me? Not surprisingly these clever, highly specialized forks came about during Queen Victoria’s reign. One of the three or four tines is thicker than the others, becoming a handy little edge for cutting through cake. I probably need a set of these forks.

Although I did not ride my bike there today, I have ridden to Oat Bakery in Goleta many times since it first opened in 2023. As I said before in this space I was out of my mind, beyond thrilled when Oat decided to open less than three miles from my house. I had eaten their tasty, unique loaves of bread before and was quite addicted to both the seeded cookie and hygge rolls. What I want to describe today are the delicious meals I have eaten at my favorite very local bakery.

I met owner Lou Fontana right when he opened the bakery in 2023 with his wife Louise and expressed my joy at Oat’s arrival in Goleta. He was incredibly friendly and eager to talk about Oat. Today we chatted about shrubs and shared our thoughts about vinegary beverages. Once the meal was finished I told him how much I enjoyed each bite of my breakfast. (Apologies for the less than stellar photos; we were clearly very hungry and I only remembered to take photos after we had tucked into our food.)

Jessica and I shared two remarkable dishes on this cool June morning. The first was the fava bean toast, consisting of bright green beans, creamy ricotta made on site with sliced cucumbers, a smattering of jalapenos and fresh herbs.  I was especially keen on the lemon zest which brightened this dish, making it summertime on a plate. 

Our second shared dish was the warm bean bowl. Have I expressed my love of beans before? Perhaps not. I am a huge bean fan–from pintos in my burritos, to white beans and tuna in a salad, to any bean, any time from Rancho Gordo. Therefore, this dish was a dream for me, consisting of soft, creamy, big lima beans, roasted cherry tomatoes, shallots and garlic. I could eat the bean broth every day of my life and be quite content; it is simultaneously rich and light thanks to serrano chiles, basil, and chives. Slices of Oat’s toasted bread accompanied this dish and I reserved them for mopping up the luscious broth at the end of the meal. 

For me, the end of any meal is an opportunity for a sweet, and we shared one of Oat’s hearty superseed cookies. This is something I used to buy en route to my former job. Even if I were running late, I took the time to pop into Oat’s original Haley location to snag one of these delectable cookies, sweetened with dates and containing oats, walnuts, sesame seeds, and chocolate. We both enjoyed the cookie immensely. I brought home Oat’s twisted pastry, the Frosnapper. It is a crispy braided stick, with just a touch of marzipan and then covered in sesame and poppy seeds. I thought my husband would really like it, but I only saved him a small bite (which he loved). Fortunately for us, Oat in Goleta is just a short bike ride away. 

My sister-in-law, Carolyn, moved with her family to Seattle a few years ago, and in July my husband Don and I spent a few days in their lovely home overlooking Lake Washington.  Walks from their home led me around the lake and allowed me to see beautiful houses, their verdant gardens showing off colorful flowers in full bloom. I will definitely be enlisting the memories of my family in Seattle to help me write this biking to bakeries post since that wonderful trip was several months ago.

On the way to Edmonds one day, we stopped at The Cottage, a small bakery featuring bread and cookies. I thought the rye cookie was nutty and full-flavored and all of the bread loaves looked legit. Carolyn and I had a good chat with the friendly young women who worked there and they seem interested in my blog. While walking around Edmond’s cute downtown, I discovered a splendid shop, Treasures and Teas, which sells dozens of loose leaf tea varieties. Tea is one of my favorite beverages and it always complements whatever baked goods I am eating.  Thankfully, the shopkeeper was incredibly helpful and I came home with a new favorite, Purple Jasmine as well as my standby, Cream Earl Gray. I continue to order from this terrific store. 

The next day, we set off on bikes: Carolyn, my Don, brother-in-law Tom, and niece Nicole. Our first stop after a rather long, hilly ride (I was on a single speed bike!) was Irwin’s Bakery, where my nephew Hutton works. He had kindly set aside the coffee shop’s best sellers and they did not disappoint. We sat outside in a special spot under an awning, surrounded by trees. Our coffee and tea drinks arrived, piping hot with steamed milk. My London Fog was perfect.  We unpacked the capacious bag of pastries from Hutton and shared them gleefully. Irwin’s is known for its scones and you know that this particular baked good is one of my favorites. Each one had a buttery crumb and the flavors were fresh and bright: marionberry, apple, and cherry. The marionberry was my favorite since this sweet, tart fruit comes and goes so quickly in Santa Barbara. I can never get enough of it. We also shared a moist, subtly spiced pumpkin muffin that reminded me of fall. 

Our next stop was Sea Wolf, where my niece ordered a square slice of pizza with vinaigrette, a combination I’d never seen before. This is her go-to order there, and I could see why. According to Nicole, “The green vinaigrette pizza at Sea Wolf is served cafeteria-style, cut into big squares from a sheet pan. The best thing about it is the bread, which is chewy and may actually be focaccia. It’s simple—just cheese, sauce, and bread—but the green vinaigrette gives it a tanginess that sets it apart from a plain, old cheese pizza. As for the focaccia, Sea Wolf’s version is lighter and more lemony than the other focaccias I’ve had. It has Maldon salt flakes on top and all kinds of olives—black, green, kalamata, —baked into it. My only complaint is that it’s oily and liable to soak right through the brown paper bags it’s served in.”  I enjoyed a very good chocolate chip cookie, also sprinkled with Maldon salt flakes.

Our final stop was Saint Bread (I am not religious but have been worshiping bread my entire life!). We arrived to find a rather long line which gave us plenty of time to peruse the unusual menu. Once again, I am relying on Nicole’s keen memory. She is “pretty sure we had yuzu polenta cake and rice bowls at Saint Bread. The rice bowl, which has pickled seasonal veggies, greens, a hard-boiled egg, and sesame miso dressing, is my go-to there. I’m also a big fan of their chocolate chip cookies, which are salty and dotted with dark chocolate chunks.” I second her views on the chocolate chip cookie there, as it was one of the best I’ve had. In addition, the polenta yuzu cake was moist and tasty. We are  not alone in our feelings about Saint Bread, as the New York Times recently named it one of America’s best bakeries.  

On our final day we set out to visit the locks. En route, we ate at Macrina Bakery. I believe my husband (though it could have been Tom) ordered the sausage breakfast biscuit. This light, fluffy biscuit held a delicately seasoned sausage, a local cheese, and egg. It disappeared quickly and was pronounced “delicious!” I went with a large slice of coffee cake and purchased some of Macrina’s renowned butter cookies for a friend. All in all, we ate ourselves silly during those four days, and I am eager to return in order to see my family in Seattle and to check out more great food spots. 

Were the three of us foolish, heading to down to Los Angeles the Friday after July 4? Would we be stuck in traffic for hours? Was our agenda for the day unrealistic? Mindful of these possibilities yet determined to try some new bakeries, we sped down the 101 freeway, not on bikes but in Carrie’s car. 

Along with Gail, Carrie and I had been carefully considering which bakeries to check out ever since I brought their attention to this article in the Los Angeles Times about cookies. Based on our previous bakery-themed adventure in Pasadena, I  knew we were in for a fun and intensely sweet day. 

Our first stop was Doubting Thomas, where I ordered a mushroom and rice bowl, thinking this healthy foundation meal would counteract all of the treats that would follow. My savory and generous bowl included oyster mushrooms, bright greens and cilantro, a tart vinaigrette, pickles and a sunny side up egg. I loved it! 

For dessert I ordered a slice of chamomile cake with raspberries. The hint of chamomile enhanced the soft sponge layers, and the fluffy frosting made for a delicious mouthful. Carrie had a piece of banoffee pie, which, along with the expected bananas, whipped cream, and chocolate ganache, had an excellent graham cracker crust. We were lucky to have a quick word with the busy head baker before we left, and she let us in on what made the crust extra rich and flavorful: crushed macadamia nuts. This special crust sat at the bottom of Gail’s passion fruit tart, which stole the show. Not only was this tart divine tasting and silky smooth, it was also beautiful with its bright orange-yellow passion fruit curd, topped with a dollops of whipped cream and passion fruit pearls. 

After dining at this rather quiet cafe, our next stop, Grand Central Market, seemed raucous with dozens of places to eat, chaotic lines, and huge crowds. Although we did not have any memorable baked items from the market, I did manage to get some spices I’d been needing for a while from the decades old Valeria’s. Besides selling countless varieties of dried chile peppers and beans, whole and ground herbs and spices, and delectable-looking fruit, the vendor was incredibly friendly and helpful. 

Following the crazy cacophony of Grand Central Market, we headed to Southern Girl Desserts in the Baldwin Hills Mall. Here we found two jolly, outgoing women behind the counter who were eager to share information about their baked goods where sweet potatoes are prominently featured.  I always find it hard to resist coffee cake, and the one from this bakery was a treat. The moist, sweet potato cake sat in a little square aluminum tin, was lightly spiced and topped with buttery, thick crumbs. Then, keenly aware of the fact that “some cookies had just come out of the oven,” the three of us tried a coconut pecan cookie and a soft sweet potato cookie. I am not usually a fan of coconut in sweets, but the former cookie was my favorite. 

Carrie was pleased upon arriving at our next destination–Larchmont Village–because she had grown up nearby.  She shared fond memories of walking up and down the charming main street– Larchmont Boulevard– which, along with some new, hip stores, still boasts some she knew from years ago. I felt giddy upon entering Levain, a place I had been keen to visit for a long time.  Levain’s cookies were squat, craggy mounds which resembled scones. I am sure it is no surprise to you that I chose the dark brown chocolate cookie, studded with peanut butter chips. This simple creation turned out to be my top cookie that day, with its cake-like texture, intense chocolate flavor, and peanut butter chips. In fact, just thinking about it now has brought on a craving for this cookie.

Waddling out of Levain, I was delighted to spot Sweet Lady Jane bakery nearby, a relative newcomer to Larchmont Boulevard. Many years ago I went to this bakery’s original spot in West Hollywood with a good friend and her husband. Asha and I were completely smitten with the over-the-top, Rococo decor of the place as well as the out-of-this-world, gorgeously decorated cakes. We still talk about our lovely time there. On this day with Carrie and Gail, I focused on cookies, and got a nice linzer one in the shape of a flower. 

By this time, we were feeling pretty lethargic from all of the sugar, and beginning to think it was time to call it a day. Then we happened upon Holey Grail, a donut shop. WOW!!! I do not consider myself a donut aficionado, but I do know this place is exceptionally good. We had a very informative conversation with the shop’s sunny owner and founder, who filled us in on her journey of making fried taro donuts, from a tiny trailer in Kauai, to where she is today. How could we not try some of her creations which were fried to order in coconut oil?! Have you ever heard of such a thing?

Each one was a revelation. Yes, I realize I stated how stuffed and listless I felt upon entering the donut shop, but I sure rallied once the warm donuts appeared in their cute little boxes like fine jewelry. Our donuts were Grl Swirl (passionfruit, strawberry, and dragonfruit) Original Sin, and Cardamom Rose. Even the decor in Holey Grail was captivating and groovy with cool images on the walls and a funky vibe. I also appreciate Holey Grail’s guiding philosophy: “We are building a movement of sustainable indulgence by incorporating local agriculture and using real ingredients, while considering our ecological impact.” Furthermore, as a chocolate-lover, I like that Holey Grail sells Manoa chocolate, a bean-to-bar company from Hawaii featuring gorgeous packaging! You can glimpse these bars in the photo below, on the bottom shelf.

Energized by our foray into the donut world, we stopped at one last place for a sweet: Wanderlust Creamery . It was hard to believe that this ice cream shop featured flavors equal to Holey Grail’s in terms of innovation and creativity. However, each flavor I tasted blew my mind: Earl Gray Milk Chocolate, preserved lemon and spiced pistachio, and Passion Fruit Cacao. It had been a warm day, and this felt like the ideal way to end it. My partners in baking and I look forward to sharing more of these sugar-filled days with each other and you readers in the future.

Did I get on a bike during my two and a half week trip to Europe this fall? I did not. I did, however, cover many, many miles on foot and joyfully entered more than one outstanding bakery. My trip began, after two planes and four trains, in Herford, Germany, where my beloved cousin Gina lives. You can see the breathtaking view from her apartment below.

Though Gina does not regularly indulge in sugary treats, she was happy to take me to places that served cake and always ordered a slice for herself as well. We had the best time together, catching up on each other’s lives, spending time with our mutual friend, Laurence, and laughing a great deal. Laurence, Gina, and I called ourselves the Trois Flaneuses: three women who achieve pleasure by meandering through the streets of charming towns, with no particular goal in mind. Some of the best meals I had on this trip were with Gina, including her delicious salads and the dinners made by her boyfriend Christophe and Laurence’s husband, Michael. I felt quite spoiled. 

Though I felt teary saying good-bye to Gina, my first visit to Belgium was fantastic! For two days I explored the charming town of Ghent and was completely smitten by its pretty canals, beautiful architecture, creative feel, delicious food, and biking culture. On my first day, I sat outside a lively cafe, drinking a cappuccino and eating a slice of homey, moist apple cake.

Going in and out of interesting shops which highlighted the artsy, design-centered nature of Belgium and crisscrossing bridges left me ravenous. On that day I lost track of time and, looking for a cafe in earnest, I realized it was that in-between time in the afternoon when a meal was hard to come by. My flagging energy was lifted when I came upon inviting window displays of fancy chocolate boxes and cake domes. Thank goodness for this little tea and sandwich shop and the speedy and highly efficient man who whipped up a filling smoked salmon sandwich on a fresh baguette.  Tragically, my sub-par camera skills make it look like I ate something from Lice (instead of Alice) Magasin (shop). 

The following morning I got up early and relished how quiet and peaceful the town was. Soon I found myself at Julie’s House, where lovely baked goods were made on site by hand. Deciding what to choose was not easy, but I went for a classic, and sat outside with my drink and flaky croissant, accompanied by butter and homemade jam. Julie’s pastry was memorable and so was the bite-sized brownie sample she gave me on the side. The town became more and more lively while I sat, and I felt a bit melancholy as I headed for my next destination by train: Brussels. 

After the manageable, mellow, and small-town feel of Ghent, Brussels swept me up and kept me on my toes. My first day was spent exploring parts of the city on an unusual tour led by local scholars: The History of Water in Brussels. While I was quite captivated by the enlightening information about the Senne River and how it initially supplied all the water for Brussels, I had food on my mind so I peeled off after an hour. I had hit an open food market prior to the tour where I purchased a serving of savory pearl couscous with vegetables. But the tour left me wanting something quintessentially Belgian. Lucky for me, my daughter’s friend is a native Brussels resident and took me to a lovely and popular cafe, Maison Dandoy, where we enjoyed the city’s famous treat: gaufres (waffles). Thais ordered the Liege and I ordered the Brussels. I like this description of these distinctive waffles from the Dandoy website: “Liège or Brussels waffle? The first one takes you to a syrupy and soft world. The second is crispy, light and square.” She asked for a drizzle of chocolate on top and seemed very pleased when her plate arrived.  I loved the rich, sweet flavor and simple dusting of powdered sugar on mine.

As you may know, I am a huge chocolate lover and actually work at a bean-to-bar chocolate shop in Santa Barbara, Twenty-Four Blackbirds. Though I am surrounded by chocolate there and eat it every day, I was still game to try the renowned chocolate of Belgium. After doing some serious research, I ended up going to Pierre Marcolini in the beautiful Royal Saint-Hubert Galleries. I appreciated Marcolini’s ethical approach to chocolate-making and had fun talking to the friendly salespeople about Twenty-Four Blackbirds. They offered me a smooth and luscious honeycomb praline (truffle in the US) which was tiny and superb and I also savored a hazelnut praline. Believe it or not, I did not go into the dozens of other chocolate shops that beckoned me in this grand city as Marcolini’s creations were exemplary.  

The next day I made a beeline to Telle Mere, Telle Fille, a bakery I had spotted prior to checking in to my Airbnb the previous evening. I rest more easily at night when I know where I will be getting a pastry for breakfast. I met one of the two female owners who told me that everything they sold was made on site by them from scratch. On the first day I had a croissant which was flaky and buttery and on the second day I tried something I had not encountered before: a knotted, sugar-dusted, layered brioche dough bun. It was very, very good and a pleasure to behold. 

Following my four days in Belgium, I took a train to my cousin Nathalie’s house in the Champagne region of France. While her small town does not offer a huge array of diversions, I liked taking walks and catching up on my journal writing and reading. Of course these walks always ended at the doorstep of Bouzy’s only bakery which was a magical place. Besides offering freshly made baguettes, boules, croissants and other pastries, they had delectable-looking chocolates for sale. I particularly enjoyed eating the supersized version of a macaron, filled with cream and fresh raspberries.

 After a few days of relaxing in Bouzy, I took the train south to another cousin’s house in Vertou, just outside Nantes. Before going to bed my first night, I pulled aside Philippe’s young daughter to ask where I should go to get a croissant in the morning. She started to tell me about the two bakeries in town, but then stopped herself, saying that her family had a strong preference for one and gave me directions. When morning came, however, I was told it was market day and we needed to get going. So I had two pieces of toasted baguette with butter and homemade apricot jam before following the family into town. There we got food for the weekend, including fish, vegetables, a fine espresso from a cart, and some great bean-to-bar chocolate from an earnest young chocolate maker. On the way back to their house, Philippe stopped at the preferred bakery to get bread for the next couple of days. 

We spent a fantastic afternoon in Nantes where I got to tour a castle (with a moat!), explore some shops, visit the unusual and very cool Jules Verne-inspired park, and stroll along the riverbank. Not only is Nantes the birthplace of Verne, I learned that this city is also (equally important) the birthplace and former headquarters of Lu butter cookies. Pictured below is Lu’s original, beautiful art nouveau building and an ad for Lu on the side of an old building.

The following day I visited Vertou’s Ma Boulangerie three times. In the morning, I strolled there in order to obtain a croissant. Following a three-hour walk in the stunning Parc du Loiry, I purchased a fine smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwich on a baguette which I ate in the town square. Then later in the afternoon, I returned to the bakery for a little treat: a petite lemon tart and espresso. Initially, I felt a bit self-conscious about entering the bakery for the third time that day, but then I thought, “this is not an unusual number for a local,” and greeted the staff with a hearty “bonjour.” Sitting on a bench near the church in Vertou, eating my final French bakery treat, I took a picture in my mind. These days, if I am feeling low, I can flash back to this perfect moment of savoring food thoughtfully prepared by hand in one of my very favorite places. Food memories can transport us like nothing else, and am eager to find out where my next travels and adventures with food will take me.

Four of us adventurers (Camille, Carrie, Gail, and I) learned a few things during our bakery reconnaissance trip over the summer. First, check to see what places are open on what days. Though we definitely had plenty of options, we were disappointed to find that some of the places on our list were closed on Mondays. Second, there are only so many treats a person can consume in a day. This seems self-evident, but we found ourselves rejecting pastries by the end of the day because our bellies were full. Third, bring a cooler. Carrie was the clever one who brought an ice-chest in which the rest of us tried to cram our take-home items. Next time we will each bring our own cooler. Despite these hard-won lessons, we had a grand time!

Our day started at Little Flower Bakery in Pasadena. This darling cafe and gift shop is tucked into a pretty suburban neighborhood. You will be driving around, admiring the neatly trimmed lawns and graceful one-story homes one moment, and then–surprise–you turn a corner and are met with the black and white striped umbrellas of the Little Flower Bakery. We were all quite hungry so decided to order our food before investigating the small retail shop. Camille ordered a salad and declared it “perfect.” I tried to get each of the salad components in one bite, and I must say she was right. On a generous bed of arugula were white beans, avocado, shaved Parmesan, and thin strips of crispy fried prosciutto, dressed in a bright lemon thyme vinaigrette.

I can rarely pass up a piece of classic, streusel-topped coffee cake so ordered this along with a cappuccino. The coffee cake was not memorable, but on my return trip inside the shop, I came upon something very, very good: passion fruit lemonade. This refreshing drink was slightly sweet with tropical notes. Carrie was delighted with her order, and we all agreed it was outstanding: a slice of moist citrus olive oil cake with a vanilla bean buttercream frosting. Three plump berries rested atop the frosting. We also agreed that the shop carried an alluring selection of condiments, beans, Flower Bakery’s famous caramels, cookbooks, and cute Little Flower merch.

Our next stop was Heirloom Bakery, near the train station in South Pasadena. In line with us were a couple of women who worked nearby and came “nearly every day.” They were especially effusive in their compliments about the pies and quiches on offer. Based on their recommendation, I purchased a slice of key lime pie which was quite good; I am sure would have been better if I had not brought it home to eat the next day.

We sped in and out of La Monarca, fearful our parking permit would expire. The cashier, Juan, was perhaps the most kind and patient person we met all day. We made several purchases to bring home, and my favorite one was La Monaca’s cafe de olla: “The Sweet Coffee of Mexico.” I normally favor tea, but since I have been making the cafe de olla at home, I am a convert to this cozy, sweet morning beverage comprised of coffee, cinnamon, and piloncillo, a raw form of pure cane sugar.

A short drive led us to Tartine Bakery. Upon entering, we were rendered speechless. Every item in the case and on display looked like it was baked by magical fairies. Furthermore, every item we ordered was exceptionally good. Sure, I had not yet eaten anything resembling real food yet, but, undaunted, I went straight for the devil’s food cake. WHOA! This cake was dense and moist and the ganache-esque buttercream frosting had a deep, rich flavor and was applied with a deft, light hand. This dreamy slice was by far one of the best chocolate cakes I have had in my life.

Aside from my decadent order, Gail enjoyed her unusual corn tea cake topped with dried strawberries; Carrie had a tuna sandwich with tahini (!), sweet pickles, and frise. She announced that is was unusually tasty. She also purchased a bergamot spiced chocolate chip cookie which all of us liked. I think if there were a Tartine in my neighborhood, I would be there every day, perhaps twice a day. In addition to the phenomenal food, the employees were cheery and helpful.

By now Carrie’s cooler and our stomachs were becoming full, so we debated whether or not to keep going. Who were we kidding? Gail consulted her list, and after encountering a couple of closed bakeries, we found ourselves lucky to enter Delight Pastry. This is a beautiful, inviting establishment with comfortable, soft pink upholstered chairs and couches, marble topped tables, plants, and a long case, displaying row upon row of exquisite patisserie. We ordered espresso beverages and shared a slice of opera cake with delicate layers of French buttercream and ganache, a pistachio and rosewater pastry with a pretty white glaze, and a sweet, buttery Kouign-amann. The opera cake was the clear winner, and we enjoyed meeting the warm, amiable owner, and her daughter (in the third photo below) The owner shared the history of her bakery with us and her present work of researching new recipes and techniques to make her distinctive bakery even better.

Two images above from Delight Pastry’s Instagram

Porto’s in Glendale was our final stop, and it was a first-time visit for both Carrie and Gail. I remember the first time I went to Porto’s. Many years ago, when my daughters (now 24 and 22) were in elementary school, my friend Kristy, an LA native who had grown up going to Porto’s, took us and her two sons to Porto’s in Glendale. My girls’ eyes grew as big as saucers when they spotted giant displays of pastries with flavors they had never tried, such as guava. We all remember our original visit with fondness and longing. Another Porto’s family memory comes from the miserable months of the pandemic in 2021. Desperate for a day trip, we headed to Porto’s where we ordered a tres leches blended cappuccino and walked around outside for a few hours. That drink was unbelievably rich, decadent, and, quite simply, mind-blowing. Porto’s provided a bright spot during that period.

Like Kristy, I was able to introduce my friends to Porto’s and saw their faces light up. Gail had a memorable tiramisu in a small cup, I finally decided to eat something nutritious and had a bowl of well-seasoned black bean soup, while Carrie had a cheese potato ball and a dulce de leche besito, a small, sweet little butter cookie with a creamy filling.

We headed back home in a bit of a stupor with very full stomachs. Shockingly, or perhaps not, we spent the drive north talking about our next adventure. I would love to know if you have any ideas for future cities and baked goods for us to explore and enjoy.

Fellow bakery devotees may have been wondering what has taken me so long to shine a light on Bob’s Well Bread. I don’t have an answer since I have been a huge fan ever since this fantastic bakery opened in Los Alamos nine years ago. Maybe I just figured Bob’s had received more than its share of high praise, but it is a terrific place so here goes…

Bob’s Well Bread is now in Ballard, too!

A word here about founder/owner Bob Oswaks himself. Anyone who has encountered Bob at the register has a story to tell. Bob does not regularly greet customers with a disarming smile and good cheer. He is more likely to remind you, in a serious voice, to stay behind a certain place in line. Bob’s is consistently busy, so it is understandable that he is not available to chit chat. However, my loquacious and smiling husband did coax a big grin and friendly conversation out of Bob after mentioning that we had just listened to an interview of him on MakeMoves. It was from this interview that we learned about Bob’s long career in show business, and his foray into sourdough bread making. He audaciously brought a loaf of his bread to his neighbor, Nancy Silverton of La Brea Bread fame. What comes through the interview is Bob’s absolute devotion to making nothing but the best, most high quality breads and pastries. He does not skimp on ingredients or the time it takes to perfect a recipe. His exceptionally high standards are what makes Bob’s Well Bread an out-of-this-world place. I could (and will) tick off everything he makes beautifully: croissants, light, very flaky and buttery, check; sourdough bread, crusty exterior, spongy, sour interior, check; pastries, generous with fruit and other fillings, flaky crusts, check; cookies, soft on the inside with a sturdier edge and great flavor, check… The list is endless.

Ballard bakery and cafe

During my first trip to Bob’s in Los Alamos, I was eager to try everything. My friend Kathleen, who shares my love of food and finding special eating spots, was also eager to experience Bob’s. I was so taken with the savory dishes on offer, that–believe it or not–I did not simply order a selection of pastries and a coffee or tea. Instead, I ordered the Mushroom Toast which included delicately sauteed mushrooms of all kinds, “creme fraiche, bacon lardons and shallots over a peppery house-made biscuit, and topped with a poached farm egg.” Every ingredient on the biscuit was well-seasoned and the biscuit was made of soft fluffy layers. Perhaps I over-indulged that morning, but I sure was content. I also ate a phenomenal croissant that day.

Bob’s Well Bread in Los Alamos

Since that first memorable meal, I never drive north on the 101 without making a stop at Bob’s. When my husband Don and I are on a road trip, we grab breakfast to go. Most recently, I indulged in a very flaky pain au chocolat and a ham and cheese croissant for him. We usually get our lunch at the same time: I love the simplicity of the ham and cheese sandwich on a petite ficelle with butter. Don usually opts for the equally good and simple salami sandwich. Our close friends Brett and Lynne are also keen on Bob’s, and (as I’ve written previously) we must bring them a loaf of Bob’s Olive Fougasse, a “Leaf-shaped  Rustic French loaf with Oil Cured Black Olives, Green Castlevetrano Olives, brushed with Olive Oil and sprinkled with Maldon Sea Salt” whenever we are heading to their home in Sonoma. Arriving empty-handed is NOT an option. 

Perhaps my favorite meal at Bob’s took place on my way up to San Luis Obispo to visit Heather this spring. My intention was to have a light snack, but I ended up having a very filling plate of food. Bob’s was hopping on a Sunday morning; I felt lucky to snag a table near the front counter before getting in line. Bob was not in the house, but I could only imagine his facial expression when not one, but two customers asked the cashier if the bread and pastries were fresh. Ha! Back to my lunch: I ordered the Gravlax Platter, a real beauty which arrives on a large-ish wooden board,  the ingredients attractively fanned out. Each element of what became my heavenly sandwich was perfect: velvety, salty gravlax, briny capers, full-flavored sliced tomatoes, a lightly toasted sesame seed bagel, some fronds of fresh dill, herbed cream cheese, and thin slices of stellar preserved lemon which was, after the gravlax, perhaps my favorite ingredient. I make and use preserved lemons all the time, thanks to my small but very productive Meyer lemon tree. Bob’s lemons were unusual: they were sliced wafer thin and were vinegary and a tad sweet which was such a delicious surprise and a nice counterpoint to the other flavors. I could have sat there for hours, carefully constructing and then taking small, mindful bites of my creation, sipping an Arnold Palmer, and eavesdropping, an activity I adore. However, Heather was expecting me, so I grabbed two cookies, the slightly crunchy, chocolate filled “everything,” and a molasses one which was soft and richly flavored.

My most recent trip to Bob’s in Ballard was for breakfast on an overcast Saturday. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to order the gravlax dish again and was not disappointed. Later in the day I poured myself a cup of tea and enjoyed Bob’s cinnamon morning bun. It was buttery, sweet, and I relished the contrast between the softness of the inner pastry and the crunchy cinnamon sugar edges. Bob’s Well Bread is yet another bakery I wish were in my neighborhood. For now, I will continue to trek to Ballard or Los Alamos and am sure to be rewarded with excellent food each time. 

The note I made to myself after my short trip up the coast was this: Next time, visit later in the week. Bakeries I have been wanting to try for a long time were not open on Monday, and though I knew this at the time and could not change my plans, I was still disappointed. Nonetheless, one must soldier on, so I had a very delectable couple of days with my wonderful former UCSB roommate and fellow food lover, Heather.

One of Heather’s many winning qualities is her interest in all things food. She is an avid gardener, has a robust vegetable garden growing in front of her house, and is also growing strawberries. (And forgive the digression, but her house is unbelievably beautiful and cozy. I only half-joke about squatting there one day, never willing to leave. See photos below). Once we talked briefly about what we’d been up to lately, we sat on a couch and looked at cookbooks and shared favorite recipes with each other. This is truly one of my favorite pastimes and I could not have asked for a better partner for this activity. Some of Heather’s cookbook recipes I plan to make include butter roasted radishes and brown sugar tahini shortbread.

After sharing recipes, we decided to enjoy cocktails prior to dinner. Heather made me a divine Sunflower, something I had never tried. Of course she served it in a pretty glass and we stood in her fetching kitchen enjoying our delicate, delightful beverages. Then we freshened up and took a 5 minute walk to Nate’s on Marsh where we had a memorable meal. For starters we shared a near-perfect Caesar salad (unlike the one I recently had in SB where I was charged for the addition of anchovies. Ridiculous!). At Nate’s the generous salad included crisp romaine lettuce leaves, an unusual and tasty parsley pesto, and briny fried anchovies–yes, the anchovies were included in the salad! The dressing was creamy and garlicky and I loved the crunchy brioche croutons. My main course was Cacio e Pepe and this pasta dish was seasoned just right with spiky pepper to balance out the rich, cheesy sauce. For once, we were both too full for dessert and rolled home feeling content.

A morning hike offered breathtaking views of green hills and open land. We enjoyed a tasty lunch with Heather’s husband at Piadina and then strolled downtown for a few hours. Needing a little pick-me-up, we stopped at Scout Coffee which is just the kind of coffee shop I wish we had in Santa Barbara. It closes at a reasonable hour, 6:30 pm (instead of 3 pm as so many coffee places do in my hometown), and not only offers outstanding, house made baked goods, but a few savory items as well. I had a lovely capuccino and we shared a buttery pistachio shortbread cookie with a note of lemon. Then I noticed someone walking by with a slab of something chocolate on a plate, so I re-visited the front counter. Since I am such a chocolate fiend, I am not sure how I missed the moist-looking chocolate banana loaf cake. Heather and I soon learned that it was indeed very moist and flavorful and was gluten-free as well.

These treats were so good! Image credit above and below: Scout Coffee website

Our conversations during those two days ranged wildly from parenthood, to college, to food, religion, travel, and friendship, and I left SLO feeling even more grateful for knowing Heather. I am also grateful that Scout is open on Mondays and look forward to another trip north in the near future where I will explore Proof & Gather and Bread Bike Bakery.

It sure has been a long time since I have shared any biking to bakery adventures. There were the holidays, the rain, the cold, the rain… However, this does not mean that I have not been indulging in tasty baked goods. What follows are a few highlights from the last few months.

In early November I took my mom to The Daisy to celebrate her birthday. We were greeted by the warm staff and did not hesitate to order my favorite dish: the house smoked trout dip. This came with pickled vegetables and The Daisy’s own superb toasted sourdough bread. Because I have yet to taste a superior version, I ordered The Daisy’s French fries which were–as always–outstanding. In addition we shared a puff pastry square filled with cheese, sweet potato, and herbs. For dessert we enjoyed a slice of tender orange olive oil cake, the perfect ending to our meal. As you can see in the photo below, we were content.

My mom and I at The Daisy

Thanksgiving was memorable, but not in a grand, turkey-on-a-platter-and-warm-smiles-all-around way. My husband and I were hosting my parents and our neighbors, Mark, Begoña, and their son, Marc, on our patio. Shortly before laying out the meal, my mom was in my kitchen, making a green salad, while I set the table. My husband was on the couch and announced, just as our neighbors arrived, that he had “tested positive for Covid.” AARRHHHGGGHHHH!!! Sure, he hadn’t felt 100% for a few days, but we had chalked it up to a cold since he kept testing negative. After uttering some unprintable words, I suggested my parents also take tests: Don had been at their house the night before giving them computer lessons. Searching for tests in our hall closet coincided with the ringing of the doorbell and the arrival of our neighbors, a gorgeous charcuterie platter in hand. I ungraciously grabbed the plate and shooed them out the door, saying I would contact them shortly.

Thanksgiving on my patio with Marc and Begoña

With Mark in my kitchen

My parents ended up testing positive as well so I quickly loaded up a plate of food for them and sent them on their way. I made another plate for my husband and gently pushed him up the stairs where he could isolate. Then I called our neighbors and rushed them through our house and outside to our patio. The four of us enjoyed a fine meal which ended with my simple apple galette. What a day!

Apple galette

In December Begoña and I decided to make a bûche de Noël. I described my experience working at C’est Si Bon, a French bakery, in a past blog post. Growing up I had enjoyed that version many times but had never considered making one myself. Begoña is a very adventurous and accomplished baker, and since she was game to make one together, I decided we should do it.

We chose a recipe from Sally’s Baking Addiction, because the directions were very detailed and Sally herself appears in a step-by-step video making the bûche. Nevertheless, we did encounter some challenges. For one, making the petite meringue mushrooms was not easy. Rather, making the meringue initially was quite straightforward. What tripped us up was “gluing” the stems to the caps the next day with ganache as they had become quite soft and sticky overnight. In the end, we just placed a few atop the bûche, sans stems.

Bûche de Noël

Rolling the cake up was not too difficult, especially since I merely gave directions while Begoña did the actual work. Since our cake was rather thick, it became unwieldy when attempting to roll it up with the fluffy hazelnut filling. Ultimately, we had an amusing time covering all the flaws with the delicious, rich ganache, and we both thought the sugared rosemary and cranberries were attractive. The cake was very good, but not extraordinary. Would I make one again? Unlikely.

My younger daughter, Camille, during her long winter break, told me she wanted to host a “fancy tea.” Begoña is always up for tea, and we invited my mom. One plate on the tiered stand held dainty cucumber and herb cream cheese sandwiches as well as tuna ones. The plate below featured savory curried chicken sandwiches made by Begoña. On the bottom tier were brownies and miniature fruit tarts containing apricot and berry jam. I am all for having such a tea party at least once a month, and ours was especially cozy on that rainy day.

Fancy tea with my mom, Begoña, and Camille

In February Camille and I headed to The Duchess in Ojai with our friend, Kathleen. We were all charmed by the Duchess’ decor and were mesmerized by all of the breads, sweets, and savory items on display along the counter leading up to the cashier. In the end, Kathleen and I chose the Burma Rice Bowl for our lunch, made up of lentils, pickled onions, and herbs over rice. Camille enjoyed her Burmese Fried Chicken Sando, a very tall sandwich seasoned with bright herbs such as lemongrass and cilantro. Of course the highlight of the meal for me was a perfectly soft yellow layer cake, frosted and filled with a luscious vanilla buttercream and decorated with fresh berries. I could hardly contain my eagerness to tuck into this cake, as you can see by my poised fork in the photo below.

Cake at The Duchess

The BIG news is the arrival of Oat Bakery in Old Town Goleta, a quick and easy bike commute from my house. FINALLY! Knowing I can be spreading butter on a freshly baked Oat bun within ten minutes of leaving my driveway is a thrill. Thus far I have savored a large slice of Oat’s focaccia as well as a punchy chicory salad. My husband enjoyed Oat’s sandwich made with paper thin slices of Spanish ham and cheese. I am very keen on the can of iced tea flavored with bergamot. I have only been to Oat via car but am sure to return many times in the future on my bike.

Oat Bakery chicory salad, roll, and focaccia

I hope that you relished many flavorful meals during the holidays and wish you happiness and health in 2023. I am looking forward to an upcoming day in San Luis Obispo with my food-loving friend, Heather. Stay tuned!

In case you are wondering, I did not ride my bike from Santa Barbara to Oregon. Nor did I ride my bike in the rain to a bakery during my recent trip north. What I did do was make the most out of my trip to Alchemist’s Jam in McMinnville on the singular day it was open during my visit. I suggest you make an effort to stop by this marvelous bakery the next time you are in or even near the Willamette Valley.

Prior to this month’s trip, I had purchased outstanding jars of jam, including such luscious, unusual flavors as peach vanilla nutmeg, marionberry, and strawberry rhubarb, from Alchemist’s. Since then, I have been following it on Instagram and enjoying its baked goods vicariously via my daughter who goes to school near this charming shop. Boy do I envy Camille when she tells me about the latest galette, scone, or savory biscuit she has eaten that day. Finally, I was able to savor each bite of food from Alchemist’s Jam this fall.

Image credit: Alchemist’s Instagram account

Image credit: Alchemist’s Instagram account

My college friend, Minda, heard a lot of hype from me about Alchemist’s Jam. She soon learned I had not been exaggerating when I told her many times how incredibly tasty the food was. We arrived with Camille at the shop on a cool, wet Sunday morning. I took several minutes to take stock of every kind of baked good on offer, from golden brown sourdough boules, to decorated cookies. The three of us were also enchanted by the thoughtfully curated array of books, soaps, cards, zines, children’s toys, craft kits, natural beauty products, jars of intriguing condiments, dried flowers, and kitchen wares. In addition, there were woven wall hangings and pretty tote bags, made by one of the owners, Jennifer. While we perused the shelves, we drank chai, warm with autumnal spices and rich milk. After several minutes, we got serious about what to eat. Although I thought we may have perhaps over-ordered at the time, we managed to consume almost every last bite when we returned to Camille’s apartment.

We started our feast with a savory galette, a lighter than air, buttery, flaky pastry filled with herbs, cheese, and topped with an egg. We also shared a perfectly tender manchego and herb scone, which was without a doubt one of the best scones I’ve ever tasted. Then it was a free-for-all, which meant we filled our own plates with slices of a hazelnut pesto and potato galette (amazing!), a marionberry galette (heavenly!), and a memorable buckwheat espresso cookie (!). It’s hard to imagine how any of these baked goods could have been improved upon. Each was shaped by the delicate hands of practiced bakers, who know how to keep the pastry tender. We learned that nearly every ingredient is sourced locally, and the freshness of the herbs and berries was apparent. Once we were sated, we set aside the apple butter shortbread cookie and a double chocolate cookie for snacking on later. They were also, unsurprisingly, divine. I’d never had apple butter in a cookie, and it was a nice autumnal touch, atop a crumbly, quintessentially buttery shortbread. The double chocolate cookie was one of the best cookies I’d ever had, with its rich, chocolate flavor. I think my favorite cookie had to be the espresso one with its somewhat nutty flavor and maple drizzle.

Another stop on our culinary journey was Vadnay Chocolate Company. Camille had been here before and reported that her hot chocolate from this small and delightful shop had been excellent. We tasted the dark chocolate which was intense and deeply flavorful and purchased some bars and dark chocolate hazelnut bark. When I mentioned to the cashier that I also worked in a bean-to-bar chocolate shop, he called to a back room and the owner appeared, eager to chat. Joe Vadnay began making chocolate based on his love of the incredible cacao bean, and has been busy ever since.

Did I whine a bit the next day because Alchemist’s Jam was closed? Yes, I did. But I also enjoyed a fine breakfast at Red Hill’s Kitchen (salmon and avocado toast, pictured below) while reminiscing about what we had eaten the day before. Camille will graduate from college in May, and I am counting the days until we can celebrate this accomplishment, and until I can once again enjoy what Alchemist’s Jam has in its bakery case. I cannot wait! For both, I mean.

Minda and Me

My family and friends will tell you that I have always been interested in food. When I was growing up, I hovered around the kitchen, tasting whatever my mom or dad was making, and asking questions about why we ate what we ate. As I have previously mentioned, my mom was a product of the 1970s health food craze, something I definitely did not appreciate at the time. While my friends arrived at school with Twinkies and white bread sandwiches in their lunches, I tried desperately to convince them to trade one of my carob cookies (to no avail. How could I really blame them?).

At the same time, I enjoyed my mom’s cooking, and am now very appreciative of her insistence on using fresh, pure ingredients while many grew up eating bland casseroles and processed foods. I also realize how fortunate I was to enjoy the vegetables and fruits we grew in our backyard and the delicious ones my grandparents grew. All of this is to say, my love of food runs deep and has longevity.

My keen interest in food and cooking leads me down some rabbit holes sometimes, and I would like to share one of my recent discoveries. Just the other day, I came across an article in The Los Angeles Times about a cookbook exhibit at the Central Library in Los Angeles. I learned that artist Suzanne Jaskow began collecting mostly self-published cookbooks compiled by Los Angeles county organizations. I agree with her assertion that in reading the cookbooks and looking at the illustrations, ‘“You get a snapshot of all of these simultaneous experiences of place,” Joskow says. “The way people eat and the way people talk about their food just tells you so much.”’She describes how the cookbooks provide a window into the history, culture, politics, and sense of place in a special way, by connecting people through food. Her eclectic, unusual collection includes “‘Y Wives Cookbook’ from the Downey YMCA from 1968, ‘Cop’s Cookery: Wives of Los Angeles Police Officers’ from 1977 and ‘Hints to Housekeepers’ from members of the Woman’s Relief Corps, many of whom were wives of veterans of the Civil War, from 1907.” You can go here to watch her discuss the cookbook project, something I relished after a long day at work. I will let you know if I make it down to LA’s Central Library to see the exhibit. And please let me know if you get there.

On another note, I have a new go-to scone recipe from the Los Angeles Times. It is not much different from my previous one, which I wrote about last November, but I like this one’s smaller amounts of sugar and butter. When I make scones these days, I always brush them with milk, cream or yogurt, and a light sprinkling of turbinado sugar before baking, as this recipe advises. I’ve added lemon zest, orange zest, and chunks of chocolate to this “new” recipe, and have subbed in whole wheat flour for some of the regular flour. Each variation has been delicious (though I didn’t love the ones I made with oat milk). Admittedly the version below the photo does not look markedly different from my former standby scone. Still, I’m a big fan.

At the end of this month, I am going to visit my younger daughter who is going to college in Oregon. I was crushed to learn that Alchemist’s Jam, an exquisite bakery, will be closed two out of the three days I will be there. I’ll have to do some strategic sampling that one day and will make sure my dining companions bring hearty appetites. I am already wondering how big my daughter’s freezer is and how well the Alchemist’s breads and pastries travel. Stay tuned!

I passed by this terrific little spot several times before entering. Now that I have eaten at The Daisy, it has become one of my very favorite places. Getting there is a 20 minute ride from my home. As usual when heading downtown, I hop on the bike path by my house near Goleta Beach, take it all the way to Mission Street, and then zig-zag through the Westside, over Micheltorena, and then to State Street. The Daisy is across the street from The Granada, on the 1200 block.

If you choose to eat on the front patio, you will be surrounded by lush ferns and other greenery. Inside, the tables are spread out and the lighting is warm and inviting. I like the small pantry section at the back (near where you order) where you can find tins of smoked fish, dried beans, and intriguing condiments.

My first meal at The Daisy was lunch with Debbie, and the place was hopping. The outdoor tables were full, and the inside tables were filling up quickly. Instead of regular service, you go to the back of the restaurant, order and pay at a counter, and then the food and drinks are delivered. Debbie and I remarked on how each person who helped us was polite and gracious. When I asked the cashier if she had tried what I was considering ordering, the “house smoked trout dip,” she enthused that it was one of her favorites that she ordered “all the time.” Debbie ordered the chicken salad sandwich, and she thought we were on our way to a table when I realized I hadn’t ordered dessert. How very unlike me! I asked that a piece of citrus olive oil cake be set aside as well as a tahini chocolate chip cookie.

I realize that the words “smoked trout dip” are not very alluring at first glance. However, even one bite of this unusual dip will make you a fan. The trout is not whipped into a fine, smooth texture. Instead, it contains various sized pieces of unctuous, briny fish, parsley leaves, and a sour, creamy base. It reminds me a bit of the best chunky chicken salad you’ve ever had. Alongside the dip were brightly pickled vegetables: red onions, baby carrots, bright, turmeric cauliflower, and radishes. Every time I smeared some trout dip on the perfectly toasted, fabulous house made sourdough bread, I added one of each of the vegetables and was pleased with my mini tartines over and over.

According to Debbie, her chicken salad sandwich was perfect, with perky leaves of red trimmed lettuce and a velvety smooth avocado on the aforementioned bread. She gave me the crunchy pickles which accompanied the sandwich (had I been that obvious in my interest in them?). The desserts which I ate later at home were also marvelous. The olive oil cake was light and tender, with a hint of orange flavor, and the cookie struck just the right balance with its bittersweet chocolate and savory tahini.

When my daughter Jane came for a visit this summer, I could not wait to take her to The Daisy, and we shared a fantastic meal there together. This time, instead of simply getting the smoked trout dip, we ordered the House Fish Plate. I didn’t think anything could top my previous fish-centric meal here, but this plate was a wonder. Along with the craveable trout were wafer thin slices of cold smoked salmon, a nice chunk of hot smoked salmon, pickled onions, cucumbers, and creamy, delicious labneh. We spent a leisurely lunch making delectable layered fish bites, sometimes on the bread, sometimes rolled up in sprightly leaves of green butter lettuce.

In addition to the fish plate, we ordered french fries. After her first bite of fry, dipped in garlic aioli, Jane announced: “Every restaurant should learn to make french fries exactly like this.” I could not agree more. Each potato wedge was delicately fried golden brown, producing an ideal crispy/crunchy bite every time. We also liked our drinks: I had an Arnold Palmer while Jane sipped on a lavender infused matcha latte. I cannot wait to return to The Daisy, and have vowed to give other menu offerings a try (while subtly urging one of my dining partners to order the House Fish Plate).

Today my daughter Jane and I headed down the coast to Carpinteria, anticipating a carefree day of walking around a town we both love. I’ve written before about a marvelous day I spent here, and, like last time, the highlight of this outing was an outstanding meal.

A year ago I read a review of The Good Plow, written by my friend George Yatchisin, in the Santa Barbara Independent and was intrigued. In addition, friends who ate there reported on their incredible meals which further encouraged me to give it a try. I have no good excuse for why this was my first time eating at The Good Plow, but I can guarantee this will not be the last!

We arrived in Carpinteria at an awkward time for lunch, around 2:30, and I worried that the kitchen would be closed. Our elation upon learning we could order anything we wanted from the menu could not be overstated as we were both very hungry. Normally when I enter a new eating establishment, I like to take in the decor and if there is a merchandise area, I peruse it before ordering. This time, Jane and I immediately read over the menu and gave our order. Jane chose the Bimbap Bowl.

I was vacillating between the fish tacos and banh mi sandwich and asked the attentive cashier what she would recommend. She told me that once she described them aloud, I would be able to choose, and she was correct. I ordered the mind-blowing sandwich because I enjoy getting something that features a number of ingredients which may not be sitting in my fridge or pantry. Menu items that are thoughtfully created with various flavors and textures appeal to me, and this sandwich was that and more.

Iced tea and green veggie drink in hand, we headed outside to the patio area which was inviting with its spacious seating area. Soon our food arrived, looking enticingly beautiful with its bright colors. Jane tucked into her salad made up of spindly cucumber noodles, pickled red onion, a uniquely spiced date sauce, fried shitake mushrooms, and roasted sweet potatoes. My banh mi sandwich was a wonder. Instead of the usual pork, The Good Plow’s version showcased spidery chunks of fried oyster mushrooms. Perhaps that does not sound enticing, but seriously, they were phenomenal when resting on a crisp baguette that had been drizzled with Green Goddess Dressing (a verdant dream), thin slices of pickled carrots, cucumbers, and red onions, and bright basil and cilantro leaves. I feigned generosity by not cringing when Jane took a big bite of my sandwich, and tried not to snatch it back from her before she could take another one.

After lunch we took a little tour around the store inside, appreciating the warm, honey wood decor and healthy potted plants. Along with a refrigerated case featuring local fresh produce, we saw cool woven baskets, local wines and beers, shrubs, pretty colored candles, and bottles and jars of fun picnic foods. For once, I was not tempted to have a sweet following our meal. Our lunch had been sublime, so perfect, that we chose to bask in that blissed-out, sated state. But believe me: I will be back!

Whenever my family spends time with our friends in Sonoma, we ride bikes. My husband and his friend, Brett, are serious bicycle geeks, and can (and do) spend hours talking about bikes, looking at bikes, riding bikes, and planning future bike trips. The highlight of a recent weekend up North was visiting The Marin Museum of Bicycling in Fairfax, California. Though you cannot see their huge smiles behind their masks, Brett and Don spent the rest of the afternoon talking non-stop about their “life-changing” experience at the museum.

While they were in the museum, Lynne and I walked around Fairfax. We ended up stopping for a little snack at the charming restaurant, Amelie, and I am so glad we did. It was late afternoon, a time when I tend to become hungry. Sometimes I eat nuts and fruit when I start to get hungry (hangry?); other times I reach for chocolate. On this day at Amelie, Lynne and I drank ice tea while sharing two delicious desserts. This was one of those rare times that I opted for non-chocolate sweets. First we tasted a fresh lemon tart with a light meringue on top. It was tangy and had a short, buttery crust. Then we dove into the puff pastry-based pear and blueberry tart, which was my favorite. People tend to either love or hate pears, which I can understand if you’ve ever had a mushy or tasteless one. But they can have an almost floral note when handled by a gifted baker, as this one was. We were quite content.

That same weekend, Lynne and I poked around garage sales and antique stores, an activity we both enjoy. This trip was no different. As usual, I got hungry after an hour or so of perusing old furniture and home goods so we stopped at a place we had been to when it first opened: Baker & Cook. This is an eating establishment I would like to export to Santa Barbara. Baker and Cook is situated off of a major street, but once you step indoors, it is a quiet and comfortable oasis. Along one wall are racks of shelves containing local food items, including jam jars, special pickled veggies, and other tempting items. Opposite this wall is where you order food and get to see the mouth-watering items behind glass cases.

Lynne ordered a mushroom quiche with salad, while I ordered a lemony hummus topped with arugula in a piquant dressing, served with slices of perfectly toasted sourdough bread. Our food was both pretty and delicious and we switched plates halfway through, savoring each bite on the back patio. Ordering dessert was more fraught with indecision, but in the end we settled upon the brioche donut filled with Nutella. Now that I write it out, the choice was obvious. This confection had a soft, pillowy dough encasing the luscious hazelnut-chocolatey magic.

On another day we all rode bikes to the festively decorated El Molino Central. My daughter and I were captivated by the colorful paper flowers adorning the building’s exterior. Once our food arrived, we changed our focus. We had poblano chicken enchiladas, blanketed by a rich, savory mole sauce; crispy fried fish tacos; and beef birria tacos in salsa de árbol. Every bite was a fresh combination of well-balanced spices, some heat, and expertly cooked meat. I would make sitting at one of the picnic tables in the back of El Molino at least a weekly habit if I lived in Sonoma.

Last but not least on my list of food-related places I’d like to bring back with me to Santa Barbara is this insanely cute crepe cart in the photo below. We spotted it in the parking lot of Arnold Field (where we watched a Sonoma Stompers baseball game later that day). I am ready to return to Sonoma soon to see our good friends and to discover more fantastic places to eat.

I have been told on more than one occasion that I am not a delight to be around in hot weather. Apparently I do nothing but complain and whine when it is over 78 degrees. And yes, I am aware that for most people 78 degrees is not considered extremely hot. Nonetheless, my intolerance of heat meant that I had little interest in taking the terrific bike lane from Ventura to Ojai recently. Instead, I headed to The Dutchess, where I have been dying to visit for months, in an air-conditioned car along with my friend Siobhan and her daughter, Ella. I had been following The Dutchess’ charasmatic baker, Kate Pepper on Instagram for some time and dreamed of the day when I could taste her alluring breads and pastries at the restaurant.

I first learned about this dreamy place when my husband and I spent a day in Ojai last January (when the weather was blessedly cool!). We just happened to be in this sweet small town one day prior to the bakery/cafe’s first day, and witnessed staff being trained and furniture being set up. We admired the warm hued wood tables and long bar, and the opulent bouquets of flowers. I pressed my face against a window and sighed at the beautiful decor. I could sense that this was going to be a special place.

Siobhan, Ella, and I arrived at The Dutchess just in time for an early lunch, around 11:00. A line of people snaked along the front counter which made it easy to check out all of the baked goods, sandwiches, and other items which were piled high behind glass. My glee at the sight of so many delectable-looking things to eat reminded me of how I felt at gazing at the breathtakingly sumptuous gowns at a Christian Dior exhibit a few summers ago. I was awestruck.

This abundant display of food at the Dutchess made it difficult to make a choice. Therefore, I hedged my bets and got a sandwich to eat there, and a baguette and two baked goods to bring home. My sandwich bore little resemblance to one I love having in France which is simply sliced ham on a buttered baguette. The Dutchess’ version had generous slices of thinly sliced ham and flavorful, nutty Swiss cheese, arugula, pepperoncini, roasted red peppers, and salami. In a word, it was fantastic, with savory, salty, and vinegary notes balanced by the fresh, chewy baguette in every bite. Our table was in a cool room just beyond the outdoor, covered patio behind the cafe. We were surrounded by lush plants and flowers and were made to feel that we could have remained there all afternoon.

Ella and Siobhan, being kind women, invited me to taste the cookie and chocolate croissant they were sharing. The crisp chocolate chunk cookie had a brown buttery flavor. I liked the chocolate croissant’s flaky crust and fine cocoa center. In order to make our drive all the way to Ojai worthwhile, I brought home an epi (a baguette in the shape of a shaft of wheat), frangipane croissant, and a plain croissant. All were excellent.

What will make me return to The Dutchess, besides the very good food, are its setting and its staff. The cashier was well-versed on each dish and drink. When we returned later in the day after checking out the shops, including spectacular Bart’s Books, she suggested that I try the freshly brewed black ice-tea which was flavored with a touch of rose petals. It was an unusually delicious thirst quencher, helping me (almost) forget that the temperature had warmed up to 86 degrees. Siobhan and Ella were pleased with their cappuccino and espresso orders as well, which were served by an amiable young man who welcomed us back. We all remarked that we could have spent hours in the beautiful center room, with its comfortable booths and dusty pink velvet pillows, homey antique furniture, and stunning floral wallpaper.

I’ve heard from a fellow food-lover that dinner at The Dutchess is also a treat. She gushed about the biriyani, a lamb dish with aromatically spiced rice, raisins, and ginger, all encased in a delicate puff pastry. According to this friend, this dish was “absolutely divine and an exquisite blend of flavors.” Her review means that now I must get myself back to The Dutchess for breakfast, lunch, perhaps a drink at the bar, and then dinner. This packed outing (including a change of clothing) is going to be challenging if I get there via bike. Stay tuned!

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.

Carpinteria, a lovely small town just down the coast from Santa Barbara, is a great place for walking, shopping, and eating. Last week my friend, Suzi, and I took a long, leisurely walk by the beach, going up and down sand dunes on the accessible trails. We caught up on everything from our families to future dream vacations. We decided to do a bit of window shopping before lunch and headed downtown.

One of my favorite spots is Chocolats du CaliBressan, an incredible chocolate shop where chocolatier Jean-Michel Carre makes luscious truffles and bon bons. I prefer the Bresilien 72%, a rich, creamy truffle with a deep, smooth chocolate flavor.

Some of my favorite haunts are very close to each other: the small Farm Cart, full of local fruits and vegetables, the Carpinteria Public Library and its terrific used book shop, and Roxanne’s wonderful fabric, craft, and gift shop. I also like to poke around Whimsy, a charming antique shop. During this most recent visit, Suzi and I stumbled upon Coastland Carp where all the merchandise is made by local high school students. Shoppers can find laser engraved wooden cutting boards, phone holders, journal covers, and jewelry. There were also scented, hand made soaps, candles, scrubs, lip balms, bar shampoos, and lotions.

By this time, we had worked up an appetite and were ready to eat. Though I had passed The Food Liaison many times, I had not stepped inside. Boy am I glad I did! A woman with a bright smile greeted and directed us to read the short menu on the wall. There were only a few items: some tartines (open faced sandwiches), a small selection of bowls, and a few salads; they all sounded fresh and full of flavor. Suzi chose the Vegan Crack Bowl which consisted of caramelized onions, edamame, smoked almonds, kale salad, roasted tomatoes, bulgur, and a fine lemon tahini dressing. I felt very pleased about my choice: a prosciutto tartine which featured fig jam, whipped goat cheese, caramelized onions, and arugula. All of this deliciousness rested on grilled olive bread, and the generous serving allowed me to eat half for dinner that evening.

Even though the servings were ample, we saved room for dessert (no surprise). Suzi and I shared a gorgeous wedge of lemon meringue pie. Its crust was short and buttery, the filling was smooth and tart, the meringue topping was not too sweet and had golden peaks along with a smattering of tiny pink, yellow, and purple petals. We were crazy about this luscious pie!

In order to do a thorough job, I brought home more treats to try: a baked, gluten-free cardamom donut that was spectacular warmed up for breakfast, and a magnificent olive oil cake. The cake had a moist, delicate crumb; between the layers were a sunny lemon curd, boysenberries and a light, smooth buttercream frosting. Atop the fetching cake were more flower petals and boysenberries.

I look forward to returning to The Food Liaison and plan to eat inside next time. The space is bright, open and welcoming, with bookshelves, floor to ceiling windows, and long tables. It’s easy to picture myself with a cup of coffee, one of the stellar sweets, and a good book at one of those tables. I hope you head there soon!

I haven’t written a post for a couple of weeks, but it is not for lack of biking to bakeries. It’s just that nothing I have eaten has titillated my tongue or moved me to write. So I have decided to write about reading, one of my very favorite pastimes. Two of the books I am currently enjoying are food related, and though they cannot be described as page-turners, they are enlightening and very well-written. If you relish and care about food, you will appreciate these books.

Bread, Wine, and Chocolate: The Slow Loss of Foods We Love, by Simran Sethi, is not the downer its title suggests. I first learned about Sethi’s work when she was a guest on one of my favorite podcasts, KCRW’s Good Food. Soon thereafter, I became addicted to her excellent, edifying podcast about chocolate, The Slow Melt. Who knew there was so much to learn about this incredible bean? During the time I was listening to Sethi’s podcast, I likely bored the heck out of my friends and family with an endless stream of cocoa facts. In the podcast, she studies and explores firsthand how and where chocolate is made, its history–marked by colonialism–and the exploitation of workers that is not uncommon in the world of chocolate. I became a more mindful consumer of chocolate thanks to Sethi’s serious study, and encourage you to listen to the podcast.

Last year, in addition to trying to memorize Sethi’s wonderful instructions on tasting chocolate on NPR just before Valentine’s Day, I began reading her book. From the first paragraph, I knew it would be filled with beautiful writing and poignant insights: “This is a book about food, but it’s really a book about love. . . to pay attention to these ordinary pleasures isn’t just to see them anew but to experience them in a whole new way.” By describing how we, meaning the entire world, came to eat the foods we eat (an alarmingly small variety), Sethi makes clear that now we need to change our ways.

Though you may imagine the tone of the book is depressing, Sethi aims to encourage us to eat better and with more pleasure instead of criticizing our habits: “There is so much that brings us misery and makes us feel inferior. Don’t let it be chocolate or wine.” She urges readers to become aware of how our personal food choices determine how we all ultimately eat. By focusing on bread, wine, and chocolate, the incredible joy that can be derived by consuming them, she writes how they, like many other foods, are endangered. Mostly, she wants us to know that such delicious things are worth fighting for, and that all of us need to participate in this battle since “No country is self-sustaining when it comes to the range of diversity needed to develop improved varieties of crops. We feed each other.”

I am only a quarter of the way through Bread, Wine, and Chocolate. Once I finish it, and have learned of the concrete ways to be a more mindful eater, I will share Sethi’s wisdom.

The Potlikker Papers: A Food History of the Modern South, by John T. Edge, is a book I have been slowly working my way through. I used to hear Edge’s voice on Gravy, an excellent podcast from The Southern Foodways Alliance. Through Gravy, I became even more convinced that studying how we eat offers a window into our politics and society. According to Edge, “Decade by decade, food narratives illumine history. On the long march to equality, struggles over food reflected and affected change across the region and around the nation.” Edge takes the reader from the 1950s to 2017, bearing in mind that “America has long reacted with vigor to the South because the nation recognized the worst and best of itself here.” His book made me question many times why food history is not taught in American public schools. I am only halfway through this powerful book, and I would love to form a book group discussion around it. Let me know if you would be interested.

P.S. Years ago I started reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver. I am continually awestruck by her lyrical, potent, and deep writing, and each of her novels has stayed with me long after I finish the final pages. I don’t remember why I abandoned her memoir about living off the land; now seems like a good time to revisit it.

I am starting to feel fraudulent, since my recent blog posts have not involved biking to a bakery. Today’s excuse is that it was cold and windy this weekend (by Santa Barbara standards), and we finally received significant rain. While my bike stayed dry in my garage, I drove downtown in pursuit of tasty baked goods.

Last summer I rode with a friend to a flea market in Summerland, hosted by The Farmer and the Flea. Not only did we purchase a delicious lunch (prepared by Snack on My Snacks), I left with a cute denim skirt. I was saddened to learn that there would be no more markets of this type in Summerland but gladdened to learn they would be held at El Presidio in Santa Barbara.

With a mere 30 minutes at my disposal, since I had to work that day, I parked near the Presidio and did a speedy tour of the vendors’ goods on both sides of Santa Barbara Street. El Presidio is an ideal location and backdrop for such an event: its historical buildings invite people to admire them from within and without, there is room to wander from vendor to vendor without feeling cramped, and being outside these days feels like the right thing to do. I dearly wish I had had more time to check out the home decor and clothing and only managed to take in a couple of vendors’ wares.

At Sola Ceramics, I admired Nicole Garay’s lovely array of mugs, bowls, plates, trays, juicers, and berry colanders. Her color choices and delicate engravings were unique. I walked away with the colander below whose purchase I justified for its beauty and functionality. I’ve already put it to use.

My second and final stop happened when I noticed a line of people in front of a table of baked goods. I immediately jumped in line and was elated to notice the vendor was Chez Justine, a baker I had read about but whose pastries I had never tasted. Since time was short, I craned my neck around the people in front of me while trying to memorize what was on offer. Sadly, the baked goods which most appealed to me were sold out. Of course I was happy for Justine, but crushed for myself. Did I want to tackle the guy in front of me and swipe the last divine-looking round coffeecake that h’ed purchased? Yes; but I maintained my composure and ordered three items: a kumquat orange frosted scone, a hazelnut and chocolate pastry, and a cinnamon roll. Justine was very kind and approachable and seemed pleased at how busy she was that morning.

When I arrived at Twenty-Four Blackbirds, I grabbed a knife and used it to divide the pastries in two. My boss and I shared the pastries and enjoyed them all. His favorite was the unconventional cinnamon roll. He liked the lightness of the layered, flaky pastry dough and the fine grains of cinnamon and sugar. As you have learned by now, I am a big scone fan, and Justine’s did not disappoint. It was buttery, the unusual fruit combination’s flavors shone through, and it had just the right amount of heft. Finally, Justine’s chocolate and hazelnut creation was delicious. Like the cinnamon roll, its base was a laminated dough, upon which the toppings were able to shine.

On Sunday I met Debbie at newly re-opened Lilac Patisserie. I learned from the manager that Lilac was closed in order to install a handicap ramp and to get started on expanding into the space next door. Exciting news! My friend and I eyed the beautifully decorated layer cakes that Lilac is known for, and I was disappointed that slices of cake were not on offer that day. A return trip, on bike this time, to try the chocolate one is definitely in my future.

Debbie and I both ordered quiche, she the Lorraine, and I the veggie. We were pleased with our quiches’ light, flaky crusts and custardy interiors. Mine included red peppers, onions, spinach, and cheese and was very good. I also liked the side salad of mixed greens, cherry tomatoes and a lively vinaigrette. To finish off the meal, I had a cafe au lait and a nice brown butter shortbread cookie.

Lilac Patisserie does a tremendous job making all of their baked goods gluten-free. I was a bit skeptical when it first opened years ago, but this place has a very loyal following and offers flavorful food and desserts. In an upcoming post, I’ll let you know what I think of that chocolate cake.

This month my partner and I were looking forward to a weekend getaway in Palm Springs, where a childhood friend’s daughter was getting married. The last time we were in the desert was 2008, when Obama was being inaugurated. Hence, it had been awhile. I recall our getting into a big argument that weekend, going to the art museum, and eating mediocre food. I had high hopes that this weekend would be better. And it was.

Before we headed South, I received some valuable information from our friend George, who also appreciates and writes about food and drink. He sent me a post from website The Infatuation. I eagerly went through its list of best bakeries in LA, trying to figure out which places could be a quick stop off the freeway. We ended up in Glendale, along a street that looked how I imagine it looked sixty years ago, in a good way. The shops were small and locally owned, cars were few and drove slowly, and people were going in and out of the post office, which seemed old fashioned to me (again, in a good way).

Choosing what to order at Zhengyalov Hatz was a breeze as the menu contains only two items: a whole wheat flatbread rolled up with a filling of greens and, for dessert, a diamond-shaped pastry. After giving our order to the no-nonsense cafe owner, we waited mere seconds before she handed us two plates. Another woman behind the counter was rolling out soft-looking dough while a third woman filled it with the sauteed greens and set it to warm on a grill. Our meal was delectable. The menu states that the flatbread (called Zhengyalov Hatz) was filled with “15 types of fresh cut herbs.” Those herbs, including mint and some green onions or chives, were cooked to perfection before being rolled up in a puffy flatbread. We felt both full and righteous after finishing our lunch. This feeling was somewhat tempered by the dessert we quickly devoured. Although the menu stated it was phyllo dough filled with chopped nuts and honey, I detected some pureed dates. But perhaps that flavor was the result of caramelizing the sweetener. Our coffees were just the right accompaniment to this lovely pastry.

The remaining drive was uneventful and full of traffic so were both elated to arrive at our destination and to stretch our legs. For dinner that night, I looked up several places close to where we were staying, but none enticed. We were equally uninspired walking up and down the main drag, Palm Canyon Drive, which was filled with hungry tourists like us.

Then Don noticed (he has an uncanny gift for sniffing out such places) Las Palmas, a small brewery. As he practically skipped through the door, I thought cynically to myself, “Oh, boy. It’s going to be standard brew pub food tonight.” Fortunately, I was completely wrong. That night, pop-up Hoja Blanca had set up a small outdoor kitchen in the back patio of the brewery. The food we ate from these talented cooks was out of this world! I chatted with one and asked him what his favorite items were. He proudly stated that they were all delicious and advised that three plates should suffice. They were and it was. We started with “Shishitos a la Esquite” which were grilled shishito peppers and corn, with a sheen of ancho chili oil, a generous squirt of aioli, cotija cheese, and cilantro. After the first bite, I wasn’t sure I was up for sharing with Don. Every mouthful was savory, salty, and bursting with fresh flavor. Next up were a taco and brussels sprouts. I am certain the taco (which contained a mole and salsa macha) was phenomenal, but my full memory of it was obliterated by the sprouts.

They arrived in a bowl, glistening with some sort of spiced oil and a thin ribbon of purreed greens. The combination of charred, unctuous brussels sprouts, a smattering of pepitas and pine nuts, salty, crumbly cheese, all topped with gorgeous bright green cilantro and edible flowers took my breath away. I kept telling myself to slow down and to eat mindfully, and I did close my eyes reverentially at one point. (Well, I may have kept one eye partially open to monitor Don’s fork). Accompanying this spectacular meal were beer and white natural wine. I wish I could be more specific, but obviously, I was rather myopic about the food.

Saturday dawned warm and sunny. We arrived at the afternoon wedding following a wonderful morning with old, dear friends who live in the desert. Everything about the wedding was carefully planned and beautifully executed, from the short and moving ceremony, to the tasty dinner, to the curated music which made the dance floor vibrate. Still, what remains in my mind is the moment when the sprouts from Hola Blanca arrived at our table, and I am grateful to have new and improved memories of Palm Springs. Finally, if you ever have the chance to see an exhibit of Robert Longo’s work, don’t hesitate. His enormous panels at the Palm Springs Art Museum are remarkable.

How much do I like chocolate? A lot. I like it in every form: hot chocolate, chocolate bars, chocolate truffles, chocolate as an ingredient in mole, in any kind of chocolate dessert, from a cupcake to a souffle, and I even use a cocoa-based face mask once a week and a cocoa lip balm. In short, I am a super fan of chocolate.

Currently I am spending a few days a week working at Santa Barbara’s bean to bar chocolate factory, Twenty-Four Blackbirds. Besides giving tours–an insider’s view into how cacao beans from all over the globe get turned into gorgeous truffles and single-origin bars–I work in the retail shop. My mom thinks this is a dangerous job for me, perhaps imagining a scene out of “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” where I fall into a pool of chocolate, or that I will simply overdose on it (is this a real possibility?). Rest assured, I am in very good hands. Mike Orlando, the founder and owner of Twenty-Four Blackbirds, runs an efficient and friendly ship. My days are filled with satisfying the cocoa cravings of locals and tourists alike. In general, those who enter the shop are already in a merry mood, and they leave feeling even better. I may be a bit biased, but the chocolate made under Mike’s guidance is out of this world. The chocolate bars are intensely flavored by the soil and environment from which the beans come, and the truffles are creamy and infused with herbs and unusual spices. Moreover, they are just jaw droppingly beautiful. So I encourage you to go to the website and sign up for a tour; and please visit me at the shop on Haley Street!

In other chocolate news, my birthday is coming up and I have been looking through my baking cookbooks, trying to decide which cake to make this year. In truth, March offers two opportunities to bake a dreamy chocolate cake since my dad was also born in this month, and he is decidedly pro-chocolate. In the past, I have made a luscious layered sour cream chocolate cake with a ganache frosting, a flourless chocolate cake, a layered cake with mocha buttercream frosting, and my mom’s divine and easy chocolate mousse.

This year I am turning my attention, once again, to Nigella Lawson’s Chocolate Guinness Cake. This is an impressive dessert: it is darkly hued, rich, and very chocolately, not overly sweet, and when, frosted, looks like a mug of Guinness, topped with a frothy white head. I am very fond of this cake. In fact, once I found the recipe in my dessert binder, I saw that I had made it for my birthday two years in a row, and I made it for my dad one year as well. Now it is time to make it again and I will be doing so this week. One of the ingredients in Nigella’s cake is sour cream; I’ll purchase one from Canada which I find at the European Market and Deli near my house. Somehow this sour cream manages to be even more smooth and luxurious than any other I have tried. (I swear I am not receiving any commissions from the chocolate shop for my tours or from the dairy industry or from the International Market and Deli…yet!).

How did I come to be so enamored with chocolate? I think it is my dad’s influence combined with the time I spent with relatives in Europe. Growing up, sweets were not commonly found in my house, and cakes were only for birthdays. However, I learned at an early age that my dad was always thrilled to make me a glass of chocolate milk or to indulge me in a chocolate milkshake. His predilection for buttermilk in his shakes is not something I share, but he still prefers them to any other liquid in his drinks. Going to The Galley Cafe in Newport Beach was a Sunday tradition for my family, and though I did not willingly leap out of bed on every weekend morning, the promise of a Galley chocolate shake was enough to motivate me.

In addition, I have warm memories of visiting See’s Candy on the Pacific Coast Highway in Corona del Mar. During the 1970s my mom managed the gift store at the Sherman Library and Gardens. At least once I week, I would take the bus after school to the gift store, where I would do homework and keep her company. At some point during these afternoons, she handed me a couple of dollars and I would walk to See’s. Even though she is not a chocolate person, she always asked me to get her a Bordeaux, and I would get a chocolate buttercream for myself. While I understand and appreciate the craftmanship and fine qualities of single origin chocolate, I still love a handful of Bridge Mix from See’s. I have passed on my love of See’s to my daughters. In fact, Jane dressed up as a See’s lady for Halloween one year.

Ever since I can remember, I was intrigued by stories of my mom’s relatives in France and Switzerland. I spent my high school years working in order to save up for a trip to visit them when I graduated in 1983. The first two weeks of this life-changing adventure were in Bouzy, France, where my cousins make champagne. At the age of 18, I was not super interested in their making of red wine (Bouzy Rouge) and renowned bubbly. What affected me deeply were the meals my cousin’s mom, Simone, made. Twice a day, she and her husband would take a break from their hard work in the vines or the caves to go to her little plot on the edge of town. There she would pick the vegetables we would need for the day’s meals. She then made restaurant worthy dishes of roasted chicken, quiche, pork roast, or grilled beef with gorgeous, fresh salads and vegetables. After our lunch or dinner, we would eat a variety of cheeses (I felt so honored when I got to accompany my cousin to the cheese store and choose the cheeses myself), to be followed by either fruit or a sweet. Once Simone noticed my glee whenever I sat at the table for a meal, she began asking me what my preferences were, and one of those preferences was for her chocolate mousse. From my first bite, I realized I was extremely fortunate to find myself in Simone’s kitchen.

My mom joined me after a few weeks and we left France to stay with her cousin Anita in the Swiss Alps, near Martigny. Going into a regular market to encounter an entire wall devoted to chocolate was I thrill I won’t forget. I also won’t forget how chocolate bars were part of any picnic we went on. I wouldn’t trade the twenty pounds I gained during this first trip to Europe for anything. Through Simone and Anita, and my mom’s parents as well as my parents, I learned the value and superior flavor of home grown vegetables. And I learned how much I wanted chocolate to continue being a part of my life.

As you can imagine, I am always on the lookout for chocolate cake in the bakeries I visit. In the past, Jeannine’s thick slice of cake was my favorite. Its generous slather of fudgy frosting appealed to me. A few years ago, I moved on to the lighter, fluffier chocolate layered cake from Fresco Cafe, enjoying a slice at least once a week. When I discovered the outstanding chocolate cake from Merci Montecito in 2021, I took a break from my quest, thinking I had found my ideal slice. (You can read about this cake and Merci in a past post here.) Today I am poised to try different chocolate creations in town. Any ideas, readers?

Over the weekend, Siobhan and I took a long, meandering, and breathtaking ride up and down the foothills of Santa Barbara, along Mountain Drive. Afterward, we went old school, locking our bikes on State Street and grabbing a seat at The Andersen’s.

Many years ago, Siobhan’s husband worked at this cafe and bakery, which has been an institution in town since 1976. Most residents have memories of the jolly owner, Birte, greeting them with great enthusiasm in front of the cafe and beckoning them to have a seat. I appreciate the Old World look of the cafe, where outside seating has always been available, and whose tables are adorned with a vase of flowers and a white tablecloth. Over the years my daughters and I often stopped to look at the enticing pastries in the window, including The Andersen’s trademark Danish Almond Marzipan Kringle, whose description reflects Birte’s personality:

Real butter, marzipan, vanilla inside
Of the flaky Danish pastry
Made with a lot of love and passion
The best Kringle outside of Denmark.
Danish authenticity to the max!

The Kringle is a Christmas morning tradition in Siobhan’s family, and they send this treat from The Andersen’s to family members across the United States every year.

Years ago, I spent a day strolling State Street with friends who were visiting from out of town. Throughout the afternoon, my friend’s daughter kept asking when we were going to “that bakery with the Princess cake.” When we finally sat down at The Andersen’s, Dana was content. Before long, a tall cake arrived, draped in green fondant, with a light yellow sponge, a thin spread of raspberry jam, and Bavarian cream filling. We all enjoyed a bite of this fancy cake, but I preferred my slice of rich chocolate Charlotte. No surprise there!

On Sunday, though we could have opted for the tasty looking full brunch plates on other tables, Siobhan and I settled for pastries and something to drink. We appreciated our tall metal pots of coffee and tea, accompanied by tiny pitchers of milk. Siobhan tucked into one of her favorites, an oblong pastry, consisting of flaky sheets of pastry sandwiching a rich cream filling with a sheen of chocolate on top. My slice of raspberry Danish Kringle pleased me with its flaky crust, flavorful raspberry filling and smooth vanilla cream inside, balanced by a layer of delectable, almondy marzipan.

The Andersen’s was very busy, with people filling almost every table inside and outside. Nonetheless, the woman who took our order was patient and did not rush us when we couldn’t make up our minds about what we wanted. Our waiter was equally kind. I would like to return one day for high tea with a friend or my daughters, in order to eat inside one of the pretty rooms, decorated in pink with chandeliers. I’d also like to try one of the cafe’s fish entrees, as they looked especially good on other diners’ tables.

I think about what ingredients I have on hand, and then I turn to my collection of cookbooks. Recipes and inspiration for baking surround me, and I try to rely on my cookbooks before adding to the substantial number of recipes I already posses. Every time I read the food section in the Los Angeles Times or the New York Times, I see things I want to make and am tempted to print copies of their recipes. The same is true for when I am scrolling through Instagram or reading my Victoria Magazine. Heather, my friend who is a brilliant cook and baker, gave me the idea of having separate binders for the recipes I collect from online sources. So now I have a bulging binder (see below, bottom shelf) of savory foods and a smaller one of baked goods which work against my intention to stop collecting recipes. I suppose I should just give up; there are worse vices.

Though I could wax poetic about each of my cookbooks, recalling good memories of celebrations and warm family times, I will limit myself to just three baking books today. Among my very favorites is In The Sweet Kitchen, by Regan Daley. I like this book for its clear, precise writing with understandable directions, and for its practical, useful pages about what to substitute for what if you get in a jam, and the different sizes of baking vessels. A recipe I have made over and over again is the Plum and Cardamom Sweet Bread below. You can sub in apples or pears, but waiting until plum season makes a superior cake.

There was a time (which my daughters would refer to as among the best years of their childhood) when I would make a different cake every week. Each girl had her favorite, and of course I had my favorites as well. During this epic period, I relied on Nancie McDermott’s book, Southern Cakes. Though I made a few coconut cakes for my mom, the hands down favorite cake from this book was the Brown Sugar Pound Cake. When Jane was recovering from having her appendix removed, two of her friends brought this cake over to her to cheer her up. It remains a reliable hit in our family.

Many years ago, my brother gave me The Village Baker’s Wife, by Gayle and Joe Ortiz. I fell in love with the recipes and the story of how Joe is the one who first became a bread baker, and the way his wife Gayle became an expert pastry cook and baker. Shockingly, I have never been to Gayle’s Bakery in Capitola, California, but whenever a friends tell me they are heading to the Santa Cruz area, I insist they go to Gayle’s. All of these friends have thanked me profusely for my recommendation, and I am certain I will get there one day. Even though I had a tragic (and extremely frustrating) time making one of Gayle’s recipes which ended in tears when the Pyrex baking dish holding a glorious peach-rhubarb pie shattered, her recipes are terrific. Among my favorites is Clafouti, something I can whip up easily with ingredients I always have on hand.

Like many, I have been baking a lot of bread since the pandemic started. But while bread baking can be gratifying, baking a cake or pie or even a crumble is something that never fails to cheer me up. And sometimes just flipping through one of my baking books lifts my spirits. I’d love to hear what baking books you turn to, and what you like to make for yourself and others.

Convincing Debbie to accompany me to the Santa Ynez Valley for the day was easy, especially when I promised her we’d have lunch at The Baker’s Table. She was also up for riding bikes, which we did eventually do, though not to lunch.

Last Thursday was a spectacular clear, crisp day. Our drive up the coast was a breeze, and since we were both ravenous, we headed straight to The Baker’s Table. You know when you arrive at a place to eat and you are famished and cannot think straight or make a decision? That was us, gazing at the appealing handwritten menu; everything sounded delicious to us. In the end, we compromised and ordered two different sandwiches to share from the lovely owner and baker, Amy. I also ordered a slice of carrot cake, a baguette, and a lemon scone in order to have a complete gustatory experience.

We took our iced teas outside and chose a table, feeling like we were going to dine on someone’s pretty wraparound porch. Debbie was especially pleased the tea was freshly brewed, with just the right amount of sweetness and fruitiness. She is very particular about her tea, and will write off a place with stale or uninteresting brews. Once our food arrived, we were all business, and I had to remember to slow down in order to note details about the meal we shared.

We both ordered sandwiches: mine was a tuna melt and hers was a grilled ham and cheese. These were no ordinary sandwiches. They were exceptionally tasty in every way, from the just right thickness and perfectly toasted sourdough bread, to the fillings inside. I started with the ham and cheese, and enjoyed the nuttiness and melt of the Gruyère and the subtle tang of the Dijon mustard. Then I took a small break from the main event to nibble on the green salad dressed with a tangy Sherry vinaigrette that reminded me of my aunt’s homemade dressing.

Soon I returned to the other sandwich and it was stellar as well. The tuna salad included fresh thyme, an herb I had never thought of adding to my tuna (but will in the future), and the provolone and cheddar cheeses were beautifully melted. Which sandwich did I prefer? It was a draw.

Even though we were quite full, we had just enough room in our stomachs to share the carrot cake. I liked how it was moist and not too sugary and appreciated the good ratio of cake to cream cheese frosting.

We waddled to the car and headed to Pedego, where affable, knowledgeable Sam rented us a couple of electric bikes. Should we have ridden the ones with throttles? Probably not, as we felt a bit out of control at times. But they sure were fun! Upon his recommendation, we rode out of Los Olivos, heading toward the tiny town of Ballard. Then we swung up and around winding Ballard Canyon Road, passing bucolic Saarloos’ Park. We looked down on the valley in the late afternoon, grateful for the golden sunshine hitting the green hills across the way and for Sam’s excellent route suggestion.

That night I made a simple vegetable soup which we ate with the crispy baguette. How I wish I could walk or ride my bike to pick up a loaf of that bread every day. The lemon scone I ate the following morning was also very good and buttery, with enough heft to carry a smear of orange marmalade. My excursion with Debbie was less than an hour out of Santa Barbara, but we felt we were worlds away. I urge you to get out of town and explore the nearby Valley and definitely include a stop at The Baker’s Table.

I am sure I have mentioned before how eager (desperate?) I am to have a bakery close by, meaning a quick bike ride or walk away from my house. I cannot be alone in this desire, though I know that such an endeavor entails arduous physical labor at all hours, a lot of capital and a tremendous commitment to the craft of baking. There are many excellent bakers in Santa Barbara, as is evidenced by the numerous bakeries. Perhaps in the future, one of these bakers will set up shop nearby.

What would my dream bakery look like? The photo directly below illustrates my vision. I would like a place with a simple design, in white and natural wood, with some local art on the walls (perhaps by my daughter, Camille?). There would be fresh loaves of bread on display behind a counter, and in a display case would be a small selection of scones, muffins, quick breads, plain croissants, and some sort of cinnamon bun.

Until this vision becomes a reality, I keep a running list of bakeries I would like explore on bike in the future. The closest one is in Ballard: the second location of Bob’s Well Bread Bakery Why he didn’t expand his business closer to me remains a mystery. I have been to Bob’s first bakery in Los Alamos several times, and it is consistently great. Whenever I am heading north or south on the 101 Freeway, I try to time my drive with Bob’s open hours. Bob’s is well-known for its first-rate loaves of sourdough bread, and if Don and I are heading to our friends’ house up north, Brett expects us to arrive with Bob’s olive fougasse. We don’t want to disappoint him, so we make a stop in Los Alamos for Brett’s loaf, and while we are at it, a couple of croissants, coffee, maybe a petite baguette sandwich for later, and a cookie or two for the road. We have also enjoyed more leisurely meals at Bob’s and are very keen on the beans on toast and breakfast sandwich, comprised of proscuitto, cheese, and arugula. A bike ride in the Santa Ynez Valley is now sure to include a stop at the second Bob’s.

Another bakery in Santa Ynez, which I have visited though not on my bike, is the Baker’s Table. I will dedicate a future blog post to my meal. In the meantime, go there! I guarantee that you will be extremely pleased.

In junior high school, I met Mandy, who has has become a lifelong friend. Besides bonding over the angst and awkwardness of that age, we shared a deep love of sweets. I have many fond memories of hanging out at Mandy’s house after school, raiding her pantry which was filled with candy bars, Suzi Q’s, and Oreos. This otherworldly assortment of treats was quite different from the whole wheat fig bars and carob studded cookies in my kitchen at home. More astonishing to me at that time was watching Mandy’s mom whip up dessert every day. She made pies, cakes, and cookies that they enjoyed each evening after dinner. I had no idea people ate that way, and often lingered until late in the afternoon, hoping a dinner invitation would come (it usually did).

Mandy and I continue to enjoy eating together, and she keeps me abreast of any bakeries of note in Newport Beach, where we grew up. Lately she has been raving about Rye Goods, and I cannot wait to ride our bikes during my next visit. Rye Goods sounds like my kind of place with the usual bread offerings and pastries. In addition, there are numerous unusual creations, such as a cream cheese, Meyer lemon danish, a baklava croissant, and a selection of seasonal items, such as a “pumpkin cream morning bun topped with toasted maple meringue.” According to my reliable source, every bite of every baked good has been divine.

Another friend who shares my love of good food and sweets is Heather, who lives in San Luis Obispo. She recently arrived for a weekend visit with a superb selection of baked goods from Bread Bike. Riding my bike there from Heather’s adorable downtown house in SLO would be a breeze! The day she came to my house, we cut the pastries into thirds and shared them with my husband. We wolfed down a glorious sweet roll made with Earl Gray tea and dotted with cocoa nibs, a peach galette, and a pumpkin rhubarb muffin. Each one had just the right amount of spice and a delicate crumb.

The last bakery I want to highlight is one I biked to in Oregon. From cold, rainy days, to sunny, hot ones, the weather has varied when I’ve gone to visit my younger daughter at her college. When I moved her home to Santa Barbara last spring, we rode bikes on a sweltering day around McMinnville. Along the way, we stopped in a charming shop, Alchemist’s Jam. What a splendid surprise! The shop carries housemade jam in luscious flavor combinations such as boysenberry, grapefruit, sea salt and raspberry, cardamom, rosehip. Any of the myriad jams would be delicious atop one of the Alchemist’s scones or breads.

Whenever some brave soul decides to open a bakery in my area, near San Marcos High School, to be specific, I will be a very loyal customer. Until then, I will continue to frequent bakeries in Santa Barbara and elsewhere.

One cool April day last year included a trip to Oat Bakery, on East Haley Street in downtown Santa Barbara. I had tasted their very rustic, unevenly shaped loaves of hearty bread years ago when it was sold at Mesa Produce. At the time, I appreciated the breads made with whole grains which did not have the tall, full rise of the sourdough boule I was accustomed to. 

Since that time, the lines snake out the door from Oat Bakery’s tiny storefront every day it is open. People clamor for their Danish rye bread, shallot and shitake mushroom loaf, date almond bread, and many others which cannot be found elsewhere in town. The quaint space has gorgeous tiles out front and the inside is filled with busy bakers. 

The focaccia bread had received a lot of rave reviews from family and friends, so that is what I ordered. It traveled well in my bike basket, and was in perfect shape when I got home. An ideal picnic bread! My first bite reminded me why I like focaccia: it has a chewiness to it, and while not oily, it is a moist bread. Oat’s version is flavorful and the toppings are just right–rosemary and shallots. 

Oat’s fan base continues to grow due to its many gluten-free and whole grain options. Many consider their bread to be a major part of their healthy eating regime, and I can see why. The breads are tasty, full of flavor, unique, and filling. They hold up well to toppings and make delicious toasts and sandwiches. 

I was never underwhelmed by Oat Bakery’s offerings, but I could not relate to other people’s rapturous descriptions of Oat’s baked goods. All of this changed the morning I ate their hygge bun. Its weight is what I noticed first. This is not an airy, dainty item. On the contrary, the bun is a tightly braided mass of dense, rich dough, warmly spiced with cinnamon, cardamom, dates, and hemp seeds. I tore off a little piece and felt the same thrilling joy that I experience while taking my first bite of monkey bread on Christmas morning. But this hearty bun is nothing like my family’s annual sugar-forward, doughy holiday treat. Every bite of the hygge bun slowly reveals the subtle flavoring and the texture of dried fruit and nuts. 

Showing remarkable restraint, I packed up this miraculous bun, tucked it in my bike basket, and rode home. Once there, I made a cup of Cream Earl Gray Tea (my favorite black tea), and put the bun on a pretty flowered plate. I ate deliberately, taking my time, a dramatic difference from the frenzied face-stuffing that ensues once the monkey bread is served. This is a baked good I will relish in the future, and is something I recommend to all.

Once my husband and I did a loop around the airport in Madrid, I knew we would be in for great food in Spain. Sure, the flights were long, but the payoffs were worth it: time with our younger daughter, who spent a semester studying in Alicante, and glorious meals and sightseeing. Traveling in COVID times meant we were masked unless it was just the three of us in our apartment, and we had to show our vaccination cards before entering any public place. All in all, we felt immensely fortunate to take this trip.

Back to that airport (see photos below)… What struck us first were the displays of ham. Jamón ibérico is king in Spain, and we were eager to begin our pork-heavy sojourn. I cannot imagine another airport where one could watch ham being shaved in the thinnest of sheets, off the cured leg of a pig.

Another food-related reason that Spain appeals to me is the way people take time to slow down and enjoy life (and by extension, food and drink). Opportunities abound to stop for a cup of coffee or a beer or glass of wine with a friend, any time of day. Good food, in the form of light snacks/tapas, accompanies such pauses, which seem to invite reflection and an appreciation for being alive. No matter where we were, from the top of a remote fortress, to an obscure museum, someone would be offering pleasing libations and a bite to eat. 

Finding small places with memorable food was fun. One night we happened upon Sento, a tiny, tiny place with six stools inside, three along the counter, behind which one man made food and served drinks, and four on the opposite wall. I tried not to be too obvious as I looked at the food others had ordered. I saw the ubiquitous open-faced marinera, a small cracker with a generous helping of Russian salad, enhanced by the addition of an anchovy on one plate, grilled octopus on another, and some ibérico and manchego cheese on another plate. What caught my eye was one woman tucking into a Fred Flintstone size piece of grilled meat, accompanied by potatoes and sauteed asparagus. Apparently, she had not opted for the tapas!

Another endearing feature of this place was the window between the bar and the street, where drinks and plates could be passed through. On the second night we went to Sento, an older man was finishing up his beer and plate of roasted peppers on the small shelf along the pass-through window.  When he saw us eyeing his perch, he downed his drink and insisted we take his spot. What a gentleman. 

Shopping for food, whether in a small neighborhood market or a supermarket is one of my favorite activities when I travel, and Spain did not disappoint. The minuscule market steps from our apartment stocked a remarkable selection of wine, chocolate, cheese, fruit and fresh bread, as well as a very good panetteone. We kept returning to one market/cafe which offered delicious prepared foods, a vast selection of cheeses and meats, wondrous food in cans and jars, a large selection of wine and beer, and a tapas bar in the back.  We procured our Christmas meal here: three types of cheese, a salty cod dish, which consisted of shreds of dried fish, soaking in a briny red sauce (it tasted a lot better than that description sounds), Russian salad (This was on every menu! It is made with cubed potatoes, sometimes peas and cubed carrots, always mayonnaise and tuna) freshly baked bread, pate, ibérico ham, and red wine. 

Our fanciest meal took place a bit out of town, in El Campello. As usual, when one of Camille’s friends heard we were heading out to visit an archaeological site, she told us where to eat lunch. We walked by several places along the boardwalk that looked shuttered for the winter, and then we came upon La Peña, a lovely restaurant with a nautical theme. I wish we had dressed up, for the service was rather formal although friendly. We indulged in a salad featuring all kinds of fish, fresh and dried. This was accompanied by bread, delicious salty marcona almonds, and a bowl of rich aioli (garlicky mayonnaise) (aoili). Our main dish was the traditional Valencian arroz del senyoret with shellfish, and when it arrived, we remarked that we could “never” finish it. Ha! We took our time, and between sips of white wine, we polished off the entire dish, savoring every last bite of the crispy-on-the-bottom saffron rice. 

Not every meal was as fancy as the one at La Pena, but each one left us feeling sated and content. We never felt rushed to pay our bill or to give up our seats, the waiters and waitresses were professional, and the people around us, locals and tourists alike, seemed lively and happy to be out and about. Not all meals are happy occasions, of course, but sitting down to share food encourages congeniality and civility. I want to carry this spirit of eating respectfully and thoughtfully into life in 2022.

After a long journey, we settled into our apartment in Alicante, Spain, where my daughter Camille had been studying. The following morning, we set out in search of a bakery. One of the many things I admire about European cities is the number of small food places that are seemingly squeezed into every block. Within a ten-minute walk from our place, we could step into five different yeasty-smelling bakeries. Our first stop, according to Camille, meant I needed to try coca, the quintessential bakery item in Alicante. I expected the crumble topping to include spices such as cinnamon and cloves, but it was very plain, mimicking its shortbread base. Along with a lovely cup of cafe con leche, though, this is just the thing to get the morning off to a winning start. Soon, however, I discovered the bollo, and this orbital airy, yeasted, delicately sweetened and infused with lemon bun became my morning staple. 

Even more than bakeries, what stood out to me were the charming tea houses we encountered. Two were in the Albayzin district of Granada, an ancient, Nasrid quarter which consists of narrow, winding, hilly streets. Intricately painted tiles, couches and seats close to the floor, and filo dough treats infused with rose and orange water and sprinkled with pistachios filled display cases. The fact that not one but two cats were in residence at the second tea house made our day. Both served delicious herbal infusions and spiced black teas as well as homemade desserts. I thought that I pointed to a wedge of almond cake, but it turned out to be a big chocolate chip cookie (a very good cookie!). 

The third tea house blew us away. Camille’s friend invited us to his parents’ house in Elche for a traditional lunch, which of course included ham and potatoes and eggs.  Leaving the table feeling like I would burst, I became distressed realizing he planned to take us out for dessert and tea. After what seemed like a long drive in the middle of nowhere, an oasis appeared. The tea house was multi-leveled, large and rambling, with cozy and funky fireplace-appointed rooms. Surrounding the house were beautiful gardens and lovely settings to have tea and a sweet. At one point we spotted six peacocks–in a tree–and this seemed perfectly normal. This magical tea house captivated all of us.

During the winter holidays in Spain, turron plays a huge role. This confection is made of honey, sugar, and egg white and can include chocolate or nuts. It is not quite a nougat, with a texture (to me) reminiscent of the filling in a See’s Candies’ butterscotch square. In other words, it is solid but not hard, and can have a smooth or somewhat grainy texture. Somehow I got caught up in the turron holiday buying frenzy, and joined a crowd of very energetic Spaniards, purchasing this confection in various forms in a shop claiming to be the oldest turron vendor in the city. We ate a lot of this over the next few days, and I brought some home for my Majorcan neighbor.

Another European practice that I appreciate in bakeries is how they wrap things to go. Yes, they do have flimsy cardboard boxes, just as we have here. However, they frequently use plain or festively printed paper to wrap pastries as if they were a gift, tied up with string or twine. Walking out of a shop with such a package swinging from my arm feels incredibly joyful. Such was the case after buying the cookies we planned to eat after our Christmas dinner. I believe all of them were made using either olive oil or lard as the fat, and they had little spice or anything else to make them stand out. Still, we inhaled them (and turron) that night.

Vowing to make the most of bakeries and tea shops is an easy 2022 resolution for me, wherever I am. My wish is that you will support such establishments as well, for the hardworking bakers and other employees, for giving us something to enjoy and to brighten our days, and to appreciate edible pieces of art, regularly.

I have a confession: Although I bake everything from bread to pies from scratch, and love nothing more than a croissant, I have a great fondness for standard grocery store or Costco white buttercream frosting. My husband ordered me an “all corner” cake for my 30th birthday which made me love him even more. I adore that white stuff–its slight graininess, its cloying sweetness, and if I could have a corner piece with a big flower on it, I would consider myself content. 

Growing up, I begged for a cake from French’s Cupcake shop in Costa Mesa, California. My mom had other ideas. She usually baked my birthday cake herself, and even though she is not a chocolate fan, she would honor my preference for a layered chocolate cake (except for that one year, which I will never forget, when she–bafflingly–made me an angel food cake with fresh strawberries and whipped cream frosting). I do dearly remember a couple of Winnie-the-Pooh themed cakes from French’s when I had parties in elementary school. They were fantastic. 

Given its fancifully and generously decorated cakes, Anna’s Bakery in Goleta is a place I have often equated with French’s, so why don’t I go there all the time? I think as my palate has expanded, I have fewer cravings for heavily frosted cakes and donuts. But I’ve been missing out, as Anna’s does several things very, very well. 

I stopped by the other day to try Anna’s apple fritter, which a friend had raved about. The bike ride there was uneventful and not super diverting. I took the path from my house, rode through UCSB, and then along El Colegio until it curved into Storke Road. I am convinced that whoever designed that part of Goleta was not a keen biker or pedestrian. Riding or walking around Camino Real Marketplace feels life-threatening, with drivers popping in and out of parking spaces and making crazy turns in the lots. Even riding or walking across Storke to the Target shopping center is fraught with hazards. Back to that fritter though: It was rather perfect, filled with apple chunks, crispy, bumpy edges, and a doughy, cinnamon spiced interior. 

In order to do a thorough job, I brought home a variety of baked goods from Anna’s, including an apricot dainty, date granola bar, pumpkin donut, and old fashioned glazed donut. My dad and I had a great time tasting everything and comparing the donuts with our favorite ones at Eller’s. 

First of all, who wouldn’t want to order a dainty? Or to bring a few home to share with friends and family? Heck, I just relished saying the word “dainty” aloud today. This two-bite sized pastry looks like a mini turnover, filled with apricot jam. The pastry was light and flaky and the filling was very nice. You recall how much I enthused about the donuts at Bossie’s Kitchen, right? Anna’s are different and bring to mind the ones I got with my dad at our local donut shop when I was a kid. They taste fresh and aren’t too heavy. 

The rather plain looking date bar stole the show for me. Its filling was generous and sweet, spread between layers of oaty, caramely streusel. This is something I would love to have with tea in the afternoon when I need something to lift my spirits. 

Everyone who works at Anna’s is friendly and helpful, even when I took my time deciding what to order. I can see why locals have favored Anna’s for decades and plan to return soon. 

Every once in a while, I am going to post a recipe on Biking to Bakeries. For those of you who know me well and those who have been reading my blog, you know how much I love a great scone. When my younger daughter, Camille, and I went to England a few summers ago, I felt it was my duty to try every scone I encountered in order to understand what makes a great one. I think the best was in the town of Broadway, where the cafe owner told me I needed to order a scone because a new batch had just come out of the oven. This scone was heavenly with the clotted cream and homemade apricot jam which accompanied it. 

People seem divided about how they like their scones. Some insist they must be very buttery and rich, like American biscuits, and others say they must be more dense and not sweet. I like scones that are somewhat craggly and have enough heft (while still being light), to be a raft for toppings and perhaps hold dried fruit or even chocolate chips inside. 

The latter was a blasphemous idea to me many years ago, but once I tried one, I enjoyed it immensely. Why was I so skeptical and snooty about this unorthodox addition, when I am a devoted chocolate lover? Who knows? Suffice to say that I admit I was wrong and have added chips to many of my scones since having this epiphany. 

Year ago,  a good friend got married to his first wife at The Hotel Carter, a charming Victorian in Arcata, California. The food that day was magnificent, and though the marriage did not last, the caterer’s scone recipe has. Here is my favorite recipe from that day, with the messy, annotated version pictured below. 

I think the addition of lemon, orange, or lime zest makes for a winning scone, and I also like adding dried currants or blueberries, and the aforementioned chocolate. These scones from the hotel can take on fresh herbs (chives are a favorite) as well. If I want to feel righteous, I use half whole wheat flour, and then I need to use a bit more buttermilk or yogurt to keep the dough together. 

Please let me know how you like these and if you added anything interesting to them. Enjoy. 

Okay, full disclosure: I did not ride my bike to the Lemon Tree Tea Shop in Christchurch, New Zealand. Instead, I was taken directly there in a car by my daughter, Jane, after a 15 plus hour plane ride. This charming cafe is not one I am writing about in order to entice you to eat there.  I am writing about it to illustrate how a meal (or 2) in a special place can leave a lasting impression on the senses, mind, and heart. 

Jane knows how important a good meal is to me, but it’s her boyfriend whose deep love of food makes him an excellent resource for choosing where to eat. He told Jane the Lemon Tree would be just the place for us to share our first meal together, and he was right. 

When we entered the cafe, it was late afternoon and I was ravenous. The baked goods were piled high on pretty plates, and there were cookies, bars and other unfamiliar pastries in a case. Jane and I were giddy in each other’s company and couldn’t focus on the menu, so we relied on the smiling cashier–who also turned out to be the chef–to choose for us. We were not disappointed in the least with our open-faced sandwiches, which included avocado, grilled vegetables, poached eggs and salmon. They were garnished with sprigs of cilantro and chives, fresh flowers and bright microgreens. 

While we were waiting for our food, we held hands and talked excitedly. A woman came up to our table, bringing us tea, and said she was the owner and cook. She asked if we were mother and daughter, and when we answered yes, she told us how important family is and told us a bit about her life. Jane and I felt like we had been invited into someone’s home, with its cozy atmosphere and incredibly friendly staff. One by one, they came by to ask how we liked our food and to tell us they were happy we were there. When we left, the owner told us to enjoy our visit and said she hoped to see us again. 

After two magical weeks, it was time for me to return to California (on March 12, 2020, 3 days before lockdown!). That morning,  I took a photo from the deck of where we had been staying, and I teared up when we left Jane’s little town for the airport. We decided to have our final meal together where the trip had started, at the Lemon Tree. How thrilled we were to see the same people working there who greeted us warmly and once again helped us order. Our meal was more subdued this time, and we spent a while taking photos. I wish we could have stayed all day, and I am sure this would have been encouraged by our new friends. 

Not every meal out has to be outstanding; sometimes we just need to fill our bellies. But a meal in a place that feels like the best version of a family dining room is something special. The people who worked at Lemon Tree and its funky, eclectic decor welcomed us and invited us to stay. This is the kind of eating establishment I want to return to again and again, wherever I am. 

WOW! I expected to be impressed by the baked goods and pretty cakes, but I wasn’t prepared to be blown away by the gorgeous, elegant interior design of this new bakery. I am smitten.

Dining at Alessia is a treat for the senses. I met my good friend Debbie, who was already seated at a lovely tufted banquette, and we took a few minutes to silently revel in the beauty of the space. We noticed the pink bouquet of flowers on our table as well as the extravagant blooms in vases around the cafe. We took in the subtle, soothing color scheme: light pink, white, and a subdued gold. And then we considered the menu.

We ended up ordering things to share: a simple omelette, a toasted baguette, and a twist on one of my favorites, a hazelnut swirled pastry, similar to the classic pain aux raisins. The omelette was perfect: soft and slightly underdone inside, with melty gruyere cheese and a sprinkling of fresh chives. The pastry was heavenly, lightly spiced with cinnamon, soft in the center, and crispy on the rounded, flakey edges. The baguette was a bit disappointing, but I am willing to try it again, perhaps a whole one, not toasted. 

My cafe au lait, one of my favorite coffee drinks that is not always on offer, was excellent. The coffee was rich and smooth, the milk, creamy and hot. Debbie told me her cappuccino was also on point. 

Before leaving, we gazed at the splendid array of croissants, breakfast rolls, and fancy desserts, from a delectable looking lemon tart, to a rich chocolate mousse cake. There are also uniquely flavored chocolate bars, meringues, and jams on display for sale. I think the reason I find Alessia so alluring is that it sparks a particular memory. I spent a week in Paris with my cousin and a good friend a few years ago, and a highlight of our trip was lunch at Angelina. While Alessia is not as old or as grand, dining there feels like a special treat. I plan to take my mom to Alessia to celebrate her 86th birthday, knowing that its elegant ambiance and fine pastries will delight her.

Today I rode my bike to Bossie’s Kitchen and had the best BLT I have ever, ever had. This sandwich bested one I had considered the ultimate, which I enjoyed years ago at Model Bakery. Naturally, I did try a variety of Bossie’s renown donuts since this is a bakery blog after all. I also sampled some cookies as I am serious about my work. 

My bike ride was a short one, because I am temporarily living in downtown Santa Barbara. All I needed to do was zip down Micheltorena Street, and then zig zag my way to Milpas Street. The only flaw in my lunchtime plan was not knowing the schedule at nearby Santa Barbara High School. I quickly learned that Bossie’s donut reputation was bolstered by student fans. 

Today the line behind me was growing, and the students seemed impatient: One young woman behind me huffed, “Are you still deciding, or what?” Since I had been a teacher and spent years working in a junior high school library, I knew the school lunch break was brief. Luckily for the students, I had studied the menu online before I arrived at Bossie’s though I was vacillating between ordering the BLT and the shaved ham and cheese sandwich (featuring butter!). Fortunately, the amiable cashier had a strong opinion on my sandwich choices, and told me to go for the BLT. 

It was the donut selection that really had me hesitating. Any local knows that the donuts appear at noon, and there is no ordering ahead of time. Because it was 11:45 and they were not yet on view, I did not know which one/s to order. This is where the cashier saved the day yet again. He suggested the pumpkin donut, and told me (very quietly) that he would set one aside for me. 

Once I settled at my table, I took in the scene on Bossie’s quaint patio: students surrounded me. Some were on their phones; some were excitedly chatting with their friends; and others had brought food or drinks from home or other establishments and sat with their donut-eating peers. Bringing outdoor food seemed very uncool, but none of Bossie’s employees appeared bothered. Perhaps I am old-fashioned.

I gasped when my sandwich arrived as it was rather huge. It was also stunning with its toasted sourdough bread, deep red tomato, pert lettuce, and generous slices of bacon. At first I thought I’d just eat half and take the rest home. But I was very hungry, and I figured the bread might get soggy, and the lettuce might wilt if I brought it home. So I took my time, savoring each perfect bite. 

Getting up from the table after finishing the sandwich required some effort. I was stuffed! However, that pumpkin donut was waiting for me, and I ordered a couple of other ones to try (much) later. They were all remarkable. I think the pumpkin cake donut was my favorite, with its warm spices, dusting of sugar and cute donut hole on top. The two cruller-style donuts were light but also kind of oily in a non-greasy sort of way. I loved the the brown butter vanilla one and my husband preferred the pistachio cruller, with its pretty light olive green glaze.

Another visit to Bossie’s did not involve a bike. On my way home one day, I took a detour and ended up at Bossie’s. I had been thinking about what I was going to prepare for dinner, and knew it would involve a lot of vegetables. I figured a sweet from Bossie’s would balance out the meal. Deciding what to get was challenging. I had tried the chocolate layered cake, filled with caramel and a light chocolate buttercream frosting before and it was delectable, but the bars were also alluring. In the end, however, cookies won out. 

The first cookie I had later that night was molasses. It was soft and tasted of, obviously, molasses, but also of brown sugar, butter, and a touch of ginger. The light drizzle of citrus glaze on top was a nice touch that did not overwhelm.  I could not imagine what could have equaled the delight I took in this cookie until I ate the second one. This strawberry thumbprint cookie was crumbly and reminded me of shortbread.  I liked the sugar clinging to its surface as well as the cardamom flavor.  The jam tasted like the first sweet strawberries of spring. These two cookies, along with a cup of herbal tea, were the ideal conclusion to my evening.

Later I reflected on how sometimes a cookie is just the right thing. A cookie does not have the heft of a slice of pie or cake, so it won’t ruin an appetite between meals or lead to an uncomfortable, too-full feeling after a meal. A cookie is also the ideal sweet in the afternoon with a cup of coffee or tea. Even when I can no longer get to Bossie’s in five minutes, I will return to savor a sublime meal and an outstanding sweet.

By now you have figured out that I have a bias toward French bakeries. Hence, you will not be surprised to learn that I went not once, but twice in the span of two days, to Chaupain Bakery  in San Clemente, California. 

My friend Lisa, a fellow all-around francophile, suggested we meet at Chaupain during my recent trip south. We were to have breakfast together before I hit the road for Santa Barbara. Once I read up on where we were going to meet on Thursday, I decided to give it a test drive. Full disclosure: I did not ride my bike from SB to San Clemente, so this post involves no biking.

The minute I set foot in Chaupain’s door, I knew this was the place for me. The Viennoiserie case was nearly cleaned out, as it should be in any good bakery at the end of the day. What remained however, was one of my favorite French bakery items, the underappreciated yet delicious pain au raisin. This gem consists of a buttery swirl of flaky pastry, plumped raisins, and a bit of custard. It is often referred to as an “escargot.” I spoke with the genial cashier, and told him how thrilled I was to see all of the beautiful pastries as well as the fancy Viennoiserie case next to it. We talked for a bit in French while he was making my coffee, and he proffered me a chocolate croissant for the road.

On that day, my friend Diane and I sat at the window, enjoying the view of Del Mar Avenue, drinking our coffees, and eating our pastries. It took a lot of self-control not to inhale the pain au raisin. Each bite included the flavor of butter, the creamy texture of custard, and the slight bittersweetness of the raisins. I kept telling myself to savor every morsel, slowly. Diane ate the chocolate croissant that evening and found it excellent.

The following day, I returned to have breakfast with Lisa, and she was equally enchanted by Chaupain. We hovered near the now very full pastry case, weighing the pros and cons of each item, before deciding on pistachio croissants. This was an uncommon pick for us, and we were not disappointed. In fact, Lisa and I could not stop talking about this divine creation while the flakes made their way down the front of our shirts. The soft interior and a thin layer of pistachio paste made this an outstanding croissant, one which I will seek out forevermore. Along with the cappuccinos, we felt totally satisfied, totally content.  

Foolishly, we had both ordered quiche as well, and boxed the slices up to enjoy later. While the croissant was enough to fuel a long post-breakfast walk, I dug into the delectable quiche later that morning. The generous slice was filled with greens suspended in a custardy egg filling, all in a buttery, light crust. Lisa later reported that her mushroom quiche was just as toothsome. She also purchased Chaupain’s yogurt and gave it high marks. I regret not buying some for myself. 

The pictures showcase what is on offer at Chaupain, but they can not convey the alluring aroma of the cafe or the hospitality of the staff. If Santa Barbara had such a bakery, I’d be there every day. 

https://www.chaupainbakery.com/

Today I rode my bike to my friend Sherri’s gorgeous Victorian house downtown, and then we walked to Pascale Beale’s charming home. What a pleasure it was to attend an open house in her artsy house in downtown SB. There I met Pascale’s baking partner, Sandra Adu Zelli, who was selling her sourdough chocolate chip cookies, gougeres and other delectable Gipsy Hill Bakery items. I am a fan of Pascale and Sandra’s adventures as “Two Baking Brits” and follow them on Instagram to learn what they make, shop for, and travel to see and learn about in the world of food.

I purchased a strawberry and cream meringue and a wild plum sponge cake from Adu Zelli and was not disappointed. The meringue was light and crunchy on the outside, giving way to a delicate, softer center. The flavors of vanilla and strawberry were subtle and delicious. My husband, who in the past has never understood the allure of meringue, took a very large spoonful and was left blissfully speechless. 

Sandra’s wild plum sponge cake (pictured above) was equally scrumptious, with its not-too-sweet, tender cake, small bits of sweet-tart plums, and slivered almonds on top. I wish I had purchased more than one. 

Via her website, a new menu of sweet and savory treats is revealed on Monday, every two weeks. From her website, you can order what you’d like, and then pick your choices up on Friday. Recent offerings have included a pistachio and fig tart, peach pie Danish pastry, buckwheat chocolate and ginger cookies, and potato cheese and onion pastie. I can assure you that each one of these items is made from top-notch ingredients, and local fruits and vegetables at their peak of flavor. 

I am looking forward to picking up delicious things from Gipsy Hill Bakery on my bike and encourage you to do the same. Of course if you have a large order, maybe you’d better take your car! 

Merci, at 1028 Coast Village Road in Montecito, had intrigued me for some time. Since its opening in 2019, I had been hearing about its delicious chicken Paillard and how unique and tasty the savory salads were. What got me there the first time, unsurprisingly, was word that Merci’s chocolate cake was “insanely good.” Of course I needed to try this for myself.

My family understands my obsession with baked goods and knows I will go to great lengths in order to obtain them. Still, my younger daughter thought it was a bit over the top to call Merci one Saturday morning in order to reserve a slice of that delectable-sounding chocolate cake. Well, it was a good thing I did because by the time I arrived at Merci, my slice sat there alone in the glass case; every other piece had been snatched up earlier.

This was one of the very best chocolate cakes I’ve had in a long time. Along with tasting some memorable ones at various cafes, I have also made many very good chocolate cakes over the years. Merci’s stood out for its moist, not too sweet cake layers, its silky mocha frosting, and, most of all, the swirl of caramel and small pieces of toffee sandwiched between the layers. Each mouthful included soft cake, rich frosting, and a crunch of toffee. Incredible!

When I got around to returning to Merci by bike with Siobhan, we were in the mood for coffee and a breakfast treat. Our morning started when we met near La Cumbre Junior High School on Modoc Road. From there, we rode along Modoc, crossed over Mission, took San Andreas to Micheltorena and rode over the freeway. Riding down State Street in the morning gave us the chance to see the parklets being set up as we made our way to Cabrillo Boulevard. From there we rode along the beach, passing (and mourning) the Biltmore Hotel, and following Coast Village Road to our destination.

We settled ourselves inside, at a pretty pink banquette table, and enjoyed our fine cappuccinos served in lovely pink ceramic cups. While Siobhan ordered a slice of zucchini cake, I could not resist getting a pie shaped slice of coffee cake. We shared both and decided that the coffee cake was the winner with its tender crumb, ribbon of cinnamon-spiced nuts, and crackly top.

By the time we left, the cases had filled up with bowls of bright salads featuring legumes, quinoa, and seasonal vegetables, platters of roasted chicken thighs, lemon bars, brownies and cookies. Everything looked divine and worthy of a return visit.

When I was in high school, and later during school breaks and summer, I worked at a terrific bakery in Newport Beach, C’est Si Bon. 

This job was made for me: my commute was a quick, ten-minute bike ride; I’d be greeted by the smells of baking bread, croissants, and brioche; and the owners were extremely generous, letting the employees eat whatever they wanted for free. Out of all the jobs I’ve had in my life, the one at C’est Si Bon remains a favorite.

The bakery opened in 1979, and I started working soon thereafter. My duties included being a cashier, making sandwiches, and making espresso drinks. C’est Si Bon must have been one of the first places to offer such coffee drinks, and I made dozens each day. I remember a couple of Italian men would come in each morning, demanding shots of espresso, and giving specific orders as to when to stop the rich brown liquid’s drip into the miniature cup. 

C’est Si Bon is where I learned how hard bakers work, in the wee hours of the morning, and how physical the work is. Seeing their dedication to their craft, the stress it put on their bodies, and the owners’ worry that the bakery could go under at any time, made me understand that opening my own bakery was not in my future. 

The owners, two brothers and a Frenchman, were encouraging, giving me more responsibilities each year, and never hesitated to hire me back after I’d been gone awhile. Bruno, the Frenchman, was charming, remembering who I was after I hadn’t worked there in over 30 years. Last summer I popped into C’est Si Bon to get a sandwich and some pastries, and his friendly son took my order. When I mentioned working there a long time ago, and his dad’s name, he called Bruno from the back and we had a lovely conversation about the bakery, our children, and how much Newport Beach had changed. Bruno packed up a big box of cakes and pastries, displaying his generosity once again. 

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Another fun memory is of the women who would work out at the aerobics studio just behind the bakery, and then come in asking for cappuccinos and croissants. I appreciated their dedication to both activities. 

Working at C’est Si Bon introduced me to a vast variety of cheeses, pates, and meats. I loved bringing my French grandfather and Swiss grandmother their favorite cheeses (Roquefort and Port Salut, respectively), along with a fresh baguette. I never, ever got tired of the flaky croissants, and favored the chocolate ones. I also had a fondness for the round, pillowy brioche rolls. And of course, I adored the chocolate cakes, palmiers, and chocolate mousse, all prepared on the premises. 

Today the bakery carries all of the above and more. They sell wine, mustards, and a wider variety of cookies. C’est Si Bon’s sandwiches are legendary, all made on a classic, crunchy baguette. My favorite is the Black Forest ham and cheese, with piquant mustard and cornichons. It is perfect. 

When I was getting married, C’est Si Bon made the cakes for our tiny reception at my parent’s house. We had the moist, heavenly chocolate cake with ganache frosting, and for the non-chocolate lovers, such as my mom, we also had a vanilla genoise cake with whipped cream frosting, orange slices and raspberries. Both were delicious and beautiful. I remember the day we picked them up, which involved running in and out of the bakery, getting soaked from a rainstorm that continued throughout the day and night. 

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I will always treasure the times I spent at C’est Si Bon, whether it was biking there in the early morning, biking home with a load of the day’s leftover breads and pastries slung over my shoulder, like Santa Claus, or stopping by whenever I am visiting Newport Beach.

Sometimes I forget about Helena Avenue Bakery at 131 Anancapa, in the Funk Zone. I don’t regularly go to that part of town for a meal, but every now and then, I rediscover some of its culinary gems. 

My friend Siobhan was up for a ride on a beautiful weekday, and we headed on bikes from her house on the Mesa to the waterfront. What a great ride! We ducked in and out of charming older neighborhoods on the Mesa, pausing at a “secret” spot at Santa Barbara City College to take in a breathtaking view. Then we rode along Cabrillo, loving the cool ocean breeze, and rode up and down Channel Drive, enjoying gorgeous Butterfly Beach.

Now that we had worked up an appetite, it was time for lunch at Helena so we rode back along Cabrillo, winding our way into the Funk Zone. There was a short line at Helena’s entrance, and we took the time to check out the menu. Siobhan loved all the items for sale, including jars of homemade jam, croutons, as well as Around the Table (The Lark cookbook) and kitchen towels. 

I had a hard time ordering because, as usual, I was distracted by all of the baked goods. In the interest of research, I ordered a lemon blueberry scone (it was okay) and a very, very good carrot cake muffin. For my meal, I chose a ham and cheese sandwich, which may not sound very exciting, but it was divine. Instead of brioche, I had it made on Helena’s baguette, which is perfectly chewy and the ideal bread to show off the thinly sliced ham and nutty Gruyere cheese. I liked how the spicy arugula balanced out the richness of the ham and cheese, and the accompanying salt and pepper potato chips were a treat. 

In short, this day made me put Helena Bakery at the top of my list when it comes to places to eat in the Funk Zone. I plan to revisit soon. 

Some years ago, I went on errands with my Aunt Irene in her small town in Central France. I loved how efficiently she bustled from shop to shop, purchasing her food for the day. We started at the butcher, where she discussed how she was going to cook the meat she bought from him in his pristine shop. Then we went to a small, cave-like place where fresh produce, straight from the ground with dirt and roots attached, sat in boxes on tables and the cement floor. The cheese shop was pungent, and I was thrilled when she asked what kinds of cheeses I liked. While I silently perused the dozens (hundreds?) of soft, hard, blue-veined, goat, sheep, and cow’s milk cheeses,  I realized a heated conversation was taking place. My grasp on French was pretty good, but I was confused. Everyone was debating something with the gravity of a political topic, but they were also laughing and seemed to be egging each other on. Certain expressions were repeated:  “Ooh, la la,” “insupportable,” and “incroyable!” 

Finally, I understood that the townspeople were expressing their outrage upon learning that both of the town’s bakeries would be closed at the same time over the upcoming summer vacation. Feeling like I was watching a tennis match, my head rotated back and forth as women and men on either side of me talked in raised voices. Then they simultaneously turned to me and asked what I thought of all of this. At first I was stunned. Me? How could I weigh in without letting them know how lucky they were to have TWO phenomenal bakeries in one small town every day? I was so envious! Although their situation was amusing to me, I did not want to insult them. Instead, I told them all their arguing was making me hungry and only a pain au chocolat would satisfy me (or something like that. My attempts at humor in another language do not always succeed). They did laugh, and we left the shop with three pungent chunks of cheese. 

I later learned this very French and very wonderful little fact: bakeries are obligated to plan their vacations so that there is always, 365 days a year, an open bakery in every town. Why don’t I live in France? 

Heading to my most favorite shop to obtain that chocolate croissant, I felt a skip in my step. Irene’s boulangerie of choice is the sort of gem I dream of and look for no matter where I am:  up and down the coast when I travel in my native California, in Mexico City two summers ago, in my friend’s village in England… The small space smelled of yeast, almost burnt flour, and to me, absolute joy. Differently shaped sourdough and whole wheat loaves were arranged behind the counter on wooden shelves, sold by weight. On the top of the counter were small, simple cookies on plates. And the pastry case was filled with quintessentially French pastries, such as croissants, brioches, and coiled raisin rolls. I am pretty sure I stood in the doorway, smiling with my eyes closed, for several moments before Irene asked what I wanted to purchase for my daughters and husband.  

This love of bakeries has been with me for as long as I can remember. What I would like to do in this blog is convey what local bakers are up to, how they create delicious things out of flour (and sometimes other grains), and what you should try when you visit them, hopefully by bike. Moreover, I hope to convey the unique qualities of each bakery, and encourage you to support the bakers and their hard working employees. 

Although I have always been a bike rider, I had not committed to riding every day or to using my bike instead of a car to run errands. Instead, I rode my bike to the beach in nice weather, to the farm stand at the end of my street when I realized mid-recipe that I was missing an ingredient, and I rode with good friends when we visited them up north. 

Everything changed when I purchased an e-bike in March for my birthday. Now that I have a bit of power on my bike, I feel like I can ride for hours, and any hill en route is no longer a deterrent to riding. My first big ride was to Deux Bakery on Reddick Street in downtown Santa Barbara. Was it worth riding eight and a half miles for a pastry? Definitely!

I started from my house in Goleta, heading on Modoc downtown. Once I zig-zagged my way to Guittierez, then Nopal, and finally, left on Reddick, I parked my bike in front of Deux Bakery and removed my helmet. 

Upon entering, I asked the cashier in this tiny establishment if she was the one I had spoken to earlier about the scones. Let me repeat how tiny it is: perhaps 100 square feet with a 200 square foot kitchen in the back. She asked if I were Lori, and when I answered yes, she handed the bag of 4 fresh scones to me. Why did I feel the need to tell her over the phone earlier that morning that I would like any remaining scones? Was I planning on sharing them with my friends and neighbors? No. I just knew that they would be exceptional, and that I might as well try the different flavors of the day. 

So, bag in hand, I handed over my money and left. Not really! I stood in the shop, gazing at the case of pastries, jam, and sliced bread with all the seriousness of contemplating a chess move. In the end, I asked for a pain aux raisins (raisin snail roll) and an almond croissant before leaving. My basket could barely contain all the baked goods, but I biked happily to the beach, found a lifeguard tower, and decided to picnic there. From the top step of the tower stairs, I ate a divinely light strawberry scone while gazing at the gorgeous ocean. Then I took small bites of the current and maple scones which were also very good. 

Everything I have tried at Deux has been outstanding–from the levain loaf, to the croissant, to the coffee cake. If you go, try a croissant, cinnamon roll, or a loaf of sourdough bread. You will not be disappointed. 

P.S. Deux Bakery supplies the baked goods for Scarlet Begonia cafe in downtown Santa Barbara and its bakery case is impressive.