Baked in Brooklyn

A sunny spring day was made up of a lot of walking as we led maman and papa across Gowanus, up through Park Slope (via Milk Bar for coffee), around Prospect Park, along Windsor Terrace (with a quick stop for lunch at Krupa Grocery - fab grilled cheese), and finally we followed our noses down to Greenwood cemetery.

When I say we followed our noses, I mean it quite literally. Before starting our sun-drenched explorations of Greenwood cemetery we were looking for a quick coffee and sugar stop at Baked in Brooklyn. Once you're about 10 blocks away from this bakery, you know it. The scent of cinnamon buns and freshly baked bread fills the air around Greenwood. I am honestly tempted to pick up my belongings and move to an apartment in this south Brooklyn neighborhood just so I can be surrounded by the smell of freshly baked treats all day, every day.

The factory-esque exterior of Baked in Brooklyn isn't a facade, as us New Yorkers have come to expect from most warehouse buildings in this city. Once inside, glass interior walls divide you from the real bread and bun making. Expert bakers plait 6-braided challah loaves in less than a minute (Great British Bake Off contestants could really learn something from their skills), perfect spheres of dough plop out from a loaf shaping machine, and freshly baked loaves run down the conveyor belt, to be collected and checked for quality by a trusted baker at the bottom of the run.

After I'd got over the excitement of watching the speed of the loaf-plaiting man, and debated for a while about whether I should quit my job and come and work in this bread-baking heaven, I returned to the important matters at hand, and set about deciding what we should eat. Iced coffees and cinnamon buns were the final decision, followed by the free butter 'cookies' filled with jam that they were offering around. The bun was fluffy, and light, and sweet, and as perfect as a sugar-filled American-style cinnamon bun should be. When every layer and scrap of icing had disappeared, we finally had the energy to tackle the roaming hills of Greenwood cemetery.

Baked in Brooklyn, 755 5th Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11232

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5 Things

5 happy moments from the last few days:

1. Political TV shows. Watching multiple at once. Obsessed.

2. Easter cookies and Easter Peeps.

3. Having less hair to brush in the morning. It makes a significant difference to the time I have in the day.

4. Risotto. Always so dreamy.

5. Bumping into friends on morning runs.

Happy weekend!

x

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Brunch at Rucola

We don't often go to restaurants repeatedly, but Rucola is an exception. It does obviously help that it is situated approximately 60 seconds from our front door, but I'd like to thing we'd travel a few blocks further to this neighborhood haven if we weren't inhabiting an apartment in quite such close proximity.  Every time we walk through the front door and squeeze into a seat at one of the tiny tables, we order a drink and say "I really like it here". Every time.

After flying around his race on a cold Sunday morning, B was given free reign of where to go for brunch. He close Rucola. And that wasn't just because his legs were so tired that he couldn't stand the thought of going anywhere further away. We managed to beat the crowds by arriving two minutes after opening time, and ordered the first of many coffees. Maman and Papa arrived soon after and we got down to the serious business of who was eating what from the dribble-inducing menu.

Soon enough, icing sugar dusted brioche french toast, granola and greek yoghurt, smashed avocado toast, and a slow roasted pork sandwich (that one was for the hungry runner) were being placed on our table, alongside multiple coffees. Everything disappeared very soon. In order to sit in the warmth,  in our favorite room in Boerum Hill for a little longer, we treated ourselves to more coffee, and a selection of Bien Cuit croissants, before finally bracing ourselves for a return to the cold outdoors, regretting not having ordered more of that French toast.

Rucola, 190 Dean Street, Brooklyn, NY 11217

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Lilia

Please excuse the dramatic silence around here. I am still alive and kicking, but we've been busy eating for the last week. Maman and Papa have just left after a week's trip which flew by in a blur of pasta, lack of sleep, coffee, and sunshine. This week's return to normality where we eat in every night and take in packed lunches of leftovers to work for lunch is set to be a bit of a reality check.

Our first night on their trip was spent carb loading at home before B's record-breaking half marathon at 7am on Sunday morning. When Sunday evening rolled around, it was time to celebrate their arrival and B's ability to run as fast as airplanes can fly, with dinner at Lilia. 

When Lilia opened with a flurry of mouth-watering Instagram photos of pasta in January, it has sat tip top of my list of 'I need to eat there as soon as we have some money in our bank account'. Weeks before M and P arrived on American soil, a table at Lilia had been booked, and the countdown had begun. The Instagram photos were no word of a lie: Lilia is our new favorite NYC restaurant. Although Rucola, we do love you too, and you are also our favorite: please don't make me pick one, I'm not very good at decisions.

Early on Sunday evening we were seated at our table in this bright, airy space with incredibly high ceilings, warehouse style windows, whitewashed brickwork walls, and concrete floors. Simple, but elegant, with more than a touch of a West Coast vibe about it. Aperol Spritz and Negroni were ordered, along with a salty, crisp bowlful of cacio e pepe fritelle and a burratino (not burrito, as spellcheck would like it to be) toast with mozzarella, lemon, and bottarga. A pretty fabulous way to start the evening. Can these fritelle please be a feature of every Sunday supper from now on?

Vegetables followed next: Bagna cauda with winter vegetables and an individual dipping sauce being warmed by a flickering candle was simple but perfect.

Cauliflower with spicy soppressata, Sicilian pesto, and marjoram was crunchy and, according to B (we didn't get to try this one!) 'good'. An economist's excellent use of adjectives.

The last of the winter's roasted squash, Parmigiano, pine nuts, allepo, and brown butter was spicy and sweet and nutty and exactly how vegetables should be on a blustery, snowy Sunday evening.

Fennel, marinated capers, and blood orange was so much more inventive and addictive than it sounds. The fennel had been lightly charred over their open, wood-burning grill, and had all the charcoal-y, smokey flavors of your favorite barbecue dish, encapsulated into fresh, crunch slices of fennel.

We had already fallen in love with Lilia by this point, and the stars of the evening hadn't even arrived. 

We sampled almost every single pasta dish on the menu. There was no way we were allowed to order two of the same: there were too many fabulous flavours and pasta shapes which needed to be tried.

I, of course, had to go for the Instagram perfect Mafaldini with pink peppercorns and Parmigiano. These curly, frizzy strands of pasta had the most dreamy bite to them, and were dressed so simply. This twist on the classic cacio e pepe landed itself a spot on my desert island dish list.

The prettiest dish was undoubtedly the ricotta gnocchi, with vibrant broccoli pesto, basil, and pistachios. A party of all the most beautiful green early spring ingredients adorned the soft little dumplings.

Agnolotti filled with sheeps' milk cheese, saffron, dried tomato, and honey was just the right side of being overwhelmed by saffron. One more strand and it would have been too much, but as it was it sat perfectly in the middle of savory, sweet, and rich.

The silkiest papardelle was served with a veal bolognese, porcini, and nutmeg. Earthy, rich bolognese, lightly coated the freshly made strips of pasta.

We turned down dessert: If we'd had any room left we would have ordered more pasta, not dessert. Bellies full, hearts happy, and bodies utterly exhausted, we reluctantly left this heavenly restaurant and skipped out into a flurry of snowflakes falling on Williamsburg.

Lilia, 567 Union Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11222

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