Raspberry Danish from Extraordinary Desserts

Of the three things I got from Extraordinary Desserts in October – the Chocolate Pecan Tart, the Chocolate Streusel Cake, and the Raspberry Danish -, the danish was by far the best. I admitted in an earlier post that I preferred fruit, and sweetness, and melting textures to chocolate, and pastry, and crunch. Well, this danish hit all the right spots. It was also the cheapest, at just $3.50, compared to the approximately $10 cost of the other items.

Karen calls it a danish but it seems more like a fruit pastry to me. Its crust is layered with pastry dough, topped with a wonderfully tart raspberry puree, some perfect vanilla glaze, and some berries for fun.

A daisy on a danish

This was one of the cases where the flower placed on top was truly appreciated. It looks so beautiful there. With the other items, the red and yellow roses against the dark brown hue of chocolate seemed a little off to me, but a red and white pastry topped with white flowers and red berries was truly striking and harmonious.

Mm, raspberries

The raspberry puree had soaked into the pastry dough, softening it with delightful berry flavor. That glaze was just a masterful touch as well. It’s such a simple thing, but it was a great, sticky, sweet contrast to the bright and seedy flavor of the puree. It was just wonderful.

A little gooey raspberry shot for you

You can see the gold foil here, but I honestly did not care in this case because this was so delicious. It was the perfect combination of sweet, tart, soft, comforting, and beautiful. It was so uncomplicated compared to the busy chocolate pecan tart and so light next to the chocolate streusel.

I saw this photo on Serious Eats of a pistachio danish at Grandaisy Bakery and decided I just had to go there. Luckily, there was a location just 10 blocks from a place I used to work, so, with my friend Allison in tow, I trekked up to 72nd street. They sell a variety of baked goods, paninis, and unusual ‘pizza’. It’s rectangular and features flavors like sweet potato, onion and potato, artichoke, fennel, and celery root. The bakery is in a tiny alcove next to a large Gray’s Papaya, though, and I admit I was tempted to get a hot dog for lunch instead.

However, I steeled my will and got a Greek panini, a pistachio danish, a carrot cake hunk, a lumaca cookie, and a raspberry cookie.

Here it is. It has a tart-like, rustic crust, with pistachios on a bed of cheese.

Pistachio danish at Grandaisy Bakery

Lumacas are not photogenic at all so I put them atop the raspberry cookie. Lumaca roughly means snail, and you can see how the cookie curves in on itself like a shell. They’re pastry-like, but crunchy, with currants, nuts, and some apricot preserves folded in. The apricot gives it some unexpected bursts of sweetness, but I just didn’t feel this cookie. It was crunchy and covered in sugar, so it was messy, and the fruit and nuts really got lost. I don’t remember it tasting like much.

Lumaca on a raspberry cookie

I love the light in this photo. Everything looks so clean and bright and breezy.

Lumaca on a raspberry cookie

The raspberry cookie was a flower pressed atop chunky raspberry preserves, all within a small round cookie. The jam was a wonderful, jewel-like crimson, and you could see large raspberry fragments in it for additional texture, so it was really quite lovely. Unfortunately, it was a shortbread cookie, and it broke in the bag before I could take a picture of it. I think, broken spoke aside, this photo still gets the essence of this treat across. How did it taste? The raspberry filling was just perfect. It was tart and flavorful. You were unmistakably eating smashed up raspberries, and there wasn’t a lot of sugar or other additives to confuse the experience.

Raspberry tart cookie

Onto the carrot cake. I realize this photo is uninspired, but I found it difficult to take a compelling shot of what is essentially a small cupcake-shaped carrot cake. Take a look at the drink lid beneath the cake, to get an idea of the size. It was about 2 inches high, before icing, and 3 inches wide. The size works with a cupcake, but carrot cake is so dense and rich that it felt overly indulgent here. That said, it was still very good. The cake was incredibly moist and nicely spiced. The icing was good – bright and a little tart. I am glad they held back with it, because I could see the impulse to add an inch of frosting to this bad boy to even out its proportions.

Verdict? This is very tasty if you like carrot cake, but get it after dinner on a Saturday. This is not a donut you can just absorb into your day — it’s a full-on dessert.

Carrot cake

Now that I got all the other items out of the way, I’ll return to the danish, my sole reason for visiting Grandaisy Bakery. While it is obviously topped with pistachios, there was a fruity taste as well that I believe was more apricot preserves sprinkled here and there. The folded crust is really quite lovely, and the texture was spot on.

Pistachio view

As you can see, it was golden on the outside, but tender on the inside. I hate dry pastry crust that snaps into a mess of crumbs as soon as you bite into it, which was my problem with the lumaca cookie, and, luckily, that didn’t happen here. I should also note that this danish is about 4 inches across, and pretty deep, so you get a lot of filling and, overall, a lot of danish.

Side view

But how did it taste? Well, the interior looks to be farmer’s cheese rather than cream cheese. I discussed the origins of farmer’s cheese in my previous post on pierogies, but the important part to note here is that a cream cheese-based filling will be a little tart, but a farmer’s cheese filling will be nutty. This paired well with the pistachios and got punched up by the occasionally apricot chunk. It was well-balanced but ultimately, nothing to write home about. (Is that what I am doing right now? Oops!) Overall, I wasn’t struck by the desire to keep eating it.

Inside of a pistachio danish

Of all the things we ate, I’d choose the raspberry cookie as my favorite. I mentioned we also had a panini and some pizza. My panini was a little peculiar before you think of them as grilled and pressed, usually, but these were just sandwiches. The flavor I selected was good – chickpeas, hummus, greens, onions, and carrots.

Or was it?

When I looked this sandwich up on Grandaisy’s site, I found out the ingredients were actually skordalia, chickpeas, onions, carrots, and rocket. Skordalia? Rocket? Rocket is the British term for arugula, so that makes sense. I have never heard of skordalia before, though. It turns out is a Greek dip and condiment that is made of potatoes, garlic, and walnuts, all pureed together. It looked like hummus, but a little whiter, and I do recall it being quite garlicky. I’d definitely try skordalia again, both to eat and just for an excuse to say the word.

The pizza was good for what it was, which was thinly-sliced potato and onion layered on a thin crust pizza sheet. It wasn’t really pizza, and, if it had been hotter, I think it’d be better. I’d order a pie of it in a restaurant, but I wouldn’t stop by Grandaisy for it. It reminded me a little of pissaladiere, a French dish that layers caramelized onions on pizza crust, then adds anchovies and olives.

I went to Colorado for a week this past summer. I started in Denver to see the city, went over to Estes Park to see the mountains, and then drove to Vail to appease a childhood dream. I saw a silly movie a long time ago called Aspen Extreme about ski instructors, and Aspen and Vail became the magical province of the wealthy in my mind. Since Vail is only a 2-3 hour drive from Denver, I decided I just had to see the town. I splurged on the Sonnenalp, a Swiss, luxury hotel that had amazing rates in the ‘off season’.

It was the most amazing hotel experience I’ve had, and I’ve done a fair bit of traveling. The hotel had a lot of western antiques all over the place, like wooden farm implements and ancient telephones, and the rooms had cathedral ceilings above the bed, unfinished wood furniture, and stucco walls. My balcony opened out onto the courtyard, and my bathroom had double sinks. When I returned to my room after evening turndown, I found a chocolate chip cookie, carafe of water, a robe, and a pair of slippers set out for me.

Andy likes the evening turndown, too

I had opted to include a buffet breakfast at Ludwig’s with my room, and it matched the room in its luxury experience. First, the hostess and staff greeted me by name several times downstairs. I ate on a glass-covered veranda with the buffet a room away. When I walked in, I noticed the cereal bar straight off.

Cereal bar at Ludwig's in the Sonnenalp

This isn’t the most fantastic shot, but realize that each of those bowls on the top held a cereal topping: dark quinoa, white quinoa, flax, almonds, cashews, dried bananas, dried apricots, dried cranberries, raisins, coconut, and sunflower seeds. The cereal included frosted flakes, granola, bran flakes, fruit loops, and cornflakes.

I made this beauty. The fresh fruit came from the yogurt bar, right next to the cereal bar, which had plain yogurt, flavored yogurt, kiwi, strawberries, bananas, granola, and other delicious toppings. It was heaven.

Oh, cereal, I wish I had you now

Quinoa and cranberries

The cranberry is so jewel-like in that photo.

As I circled the room, I started to panic. It all looked delicious. There were hot foods, like scrambled eggs, potatoes, and bacon. There were pastries, muffins, and bagels. There was a waffle press. They even had cheese blintzes! They were yummy. The blueberry muffin was the bluest one I’ve ever had. Now, when I showed this muffin to my Facebook fans, half of them thought it looked disgusting, moldly, and too blue. I thought it was pretty, but I love blue anything.

Blueberry muffin at the Sonnenalp

Superblue blueberry muffin

So, after cereal, a muffin, eggs, and a blintz.. I went for more. I know. I know. But it was all so pretty! The apple pastry was just so-so, but isn’t that premade parfait cute? It was fresh strawberry jam, topped with yogurt, then some granola and a strawberry. They had similar shot glasses of sparkling grapefruit. Those were so beautiful but I didn’t want to be greedy.

Yogurt parfait and apple danish

I paid the bill. Except I didn’t, because it was part of my room. I just left a tip. Pretty sweet! The drink menu reminds me that the coffee came in a very large cup with a saucer, the kind you see tea served in at a coffee house. I think you could fit a softball in there. The reason I bring it up is because the china had a lovely pattern on it, and definitely seemed like high-quality porcelain. I felt like I was in The Sound of Music when drinking out of it.

Paying the bill

So, if you are wondering whether to stay at the Sonnenalp — yes, in the summer, definitely do it. If you’re wondering whether to add the breakfast to your room – yes, definitely do it! You won’t have omelets to order, but the food is very tasteful, tasty, and varied, with high-quality ingredients, a lovely presentation, and superior service.

I spent a weekend in Ogunquit, Maine recently. We walked along the Marginal Way, a nice pathway that wound along the rocky shore. The erratic coastline is very picturesque, with outcroppings, benches, manicured lawns, and twisted beach trees along the way.

Ogunquit's coast

Eventually, the pathway ends at Perkins Cove, which has several shops with candy, souvenirs, and coffee. We stopped at a coffee shop called Breaking New Grounds, which serves coffee, pastries, gelato, cake(!), and cookies. I opted for a generously-sized cinnamon twist. They asked if I wanted it warmed up. It hadn’t occured to me, but.. sure!

Cinnamon twist from Breaking New Grounds

As you can see, it’s as long as the fork and quite thick.

French bread or cinnamon twist?

I took all these pictures under an awning, so it was a low-light situation. As a result, they have a blue hue, but I think that is stylistically acceptable. It gives them a peaceful aura that goes well with the concept – breakfast while watching the ocean.

Dog bone or cinnamon twist?

Torn cinnamon twist next to a fork

Eventually, I stopped taking pictures of it and tore into it. It was sad but delicious. You can see from the brown patches that it had a good amount of cinnamon flavor.

I ravaged this cinnamon twist

Here is another close up. Ahh, cinnamon filling. Oh, sparkling sugar. You brighten up my day. I got to eat this beauty while looking at the ocean on a bright, 70-degree Saturday morning. It’s a good life.

As I mentioned in my previous post, our lunch at the Swedish AQ Kafe in Columbus Circle introduced me to a world of unusual pastries and long, k-filled words. In addition to my cinnamon bun, I also got a slice of cardamom cake, which was labeled as kardemummakaka. I’m unsure if the purveyors love or hate to hear English speakers try to pronounce that. It really just means cardamom cake, but it looks more confusing when it’s full of Ms and Ks, and it’s all enjambed together.

This smelled great because of the cardamom, but otherwise did not taste that interesting. It’s just a pastry loaf with a bit of extra spice.

Swedish cardamom cake

You can see all the layers within the pastry in the lower right corner. In general, the airiness or “open crumb” of pastry is caused by using chilled butter in flour. When it bakes, it melts, leaving little pockets everywhere that produce a light, tender texture. The many tiny holes in this cardamom cake are a very good sign.

Interior view, Swedish cardamom cake

I find it fascinating how this cake was essentially hollow — you can literally see through a hole in it. The cinnamon bun and the bear claw up next were the same way — there was a great empty space inside them. It’s like a giant air pocket. I find it a little disappointing just because I personally don’t like biting into a pastry and having 4 inches of ‘give’ because it’s mostly a shell. It’s not a sign of a bad pastry, it’s just not my preference. I feel like it is missing something.. like an interior, or filling.

Interior view, Swedish cardamom cake

The same Baker’s Bounty tent that supplied me with my rugelach in the last post also had danishes. I selected a walnut one because it looked the most interesting. It tasted very plain; just a regular danish with walnuts on top. A fruit or cheese danish would have been a lot more exciting, flavor-wise, but harder to photograph. They were a little messy looking.

Walnut danish

Danishes were originally known as wienerbrød. Don’t get too excited; it just means Viennese bread.

Walnut danish

I love how the trio of walnuts looks here.

Walnut danish close up

I soon noticed something curious.

Walnut Wilbur?

This has happened to me before.

I went to an arts and crafts fair in Brookdale Park in Montclair on Saturday. If you’re in NJ, check out rosesquared.com – they run several excellent art shows all over the state, so one might happen near you.  There is a lot of jewelry, artwork, and photography, some pottery, sculpture, and clothing, and a row of food trucks so you can get your grease on. It’s not snooty at all.

While I was there, I passed a tent for Baker’s Bounty. They had danishes, cinnamon buns, pound cakes, focaccia pizza, cookies, and muffins all piled on a white table. I had to stop and peruse their wares so I could bring something home to ‘photograph’. This is my new excuse for eating. I got a plate of rugelach, which are Jewish pastries that are rolled around fruit, nut, or chocolate filling. This plate had strawberry, currant, and peach flavors. They were pretty tasty and bite-sized, so you could have one, wander off, and then try another.

Here is me stacking the food again.

Tower of rugelach

These were covered in nuts, curiously.

Peach rugelach

At first, I thought these were raisins, but they were too small and a little hard, so I’ve settled on currants.

Currant rugelach

Here is the stonehenge of rugelach. That sounds cool and ominous, right?

Rugelach