I suppose this has now become the West Coast Scone Review, hasn't it?
After a hike at the lovely Arastradero Preserve with the dog, I drove into downtown Palo Alto looking for much needed coffee and sustenance. I remember University Coffee Cafe from years ago as being acceptable, nothing to get crazy about. It has a distinctive smell, which I suppose it would, since they roast in-house. It all seems much the same. The coffee is still cheap. Double espresso for under $2, it really can't be beat. Nice that it still caters to the student budget, despite the obvious wealth everywhere around. The interior could be classic coffee house, with a gorgeous gleaming copper roasting machine. However all the tables are arranged in uniform rows, clearly to fit the most possible people. I've always found that most unwelcoming. It's like a NYC restaurant. Sitting at a table you're practically in the lap of the person beside you. Hey Coffee Cafe, if you want to cram people in, put in some nice long tables and benches and make it cosy. 49th Parallel did this to good effect.
I was debating what to get when I saw their pastry case. Blueberry scone, had to be. It's been a bit of a drought lately. The ones I've been getting at Starbucks in San Bruno are so disgusting I almost quit the scone game. But I keep chasing perfection- I know it's out there somewhere.
This one was a huge surprise. It didn't do anything perfectly but it was so delicious I knew I had something special. Kind of a crunchy, toasty outside and soft and wonderful inside. Overly crumbly, I had a mess on my hands towards the ends. It had that sort of doughiness, just on the correct side of being underdone, and happily I could glue the crumbs back together to make a piece big enough to shove back into my mouth. Unrefined I know, but we scone enthusiasts can't be delicate. I'll lick the plate if need be.
The real kicker though was this one had a delightful vanilla flavour to it. Pure brilliance and made every bite interesting. Would it be sweet (more aromatic than cloying) or tart or a little of both? So far the cafe bakeries in the Bay Area have been disappointing, bland and uninventive, and this gives me a little bit of hope.
4/5
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Scone Wreck at JJ Bean
It's well known that JJ Bean at Main & 14th has the most dreadful muffins. Not only because they're terrible, but because they look and smell so good. They look so big and tempting, weigh several pounds, and are baked in house. Then you bite into one and it turns to ashes in your mouth. Lumpy, chewy, gluey, bland are the words that leap to mind. Despite being gluey they somehow fall to crumby pieces. This is great for the lovely little birds that frequent the outside (and occasionally inside), but useless for someone who actually wants to eat it. Usually the muffin paper is so firmly affixed that it just tears and sticks in pieces. I don't know how much of that paper I've eaten, but as the flavour is indistinguishable from the muffin itself, probably quite a bit.
Since JJ Bean is the place to see and be seen on Main St, and the Americano is beyond impeccable, I find myself there quite often. As if in a trance, I inevitably listen to myself ordering a blueberry oatmeal muffin to go with my coffee, wondering what has possessed me to give them another chance. Bitter disappointment soon follows.
Given the weekly muffin fiasco, I've never dared order one of their scones, which look more like scone sculptures of wood and granite than something you would put in your mouth. But today they had something new- the pumpkin scone. It looked rather pretty, an autumnal orange and with an icing. Pumpkin scones are irresistible. I ignored all prior evidence and ordered it, despite its rather steep $3.15 price tag.
Oh, muffins, how I've wronged you! Forgive me, take me back, as long as I never have to eat another one of these scones again! The icing was maple, which although being a fall flavour, clashes unpleasantly with the pumpkin. It was also greyish, grainy, and fell off in flakes. I threw most of it to my little bird friends. The base of the scone was actually fine, and had a nice pumpkin flavour. It was dry but definitely edible. But then it had bits of dried cranberries and nuts, another unwelcome surprise. Has anyone ever actually tasted this recipe before? Thankfully the Americano was delicious as usual.
I know JJ Bean's hiring policy is simply based on the ability to grow a beard and wear an unflattering hat, but seriously, maybe they could find someone who also went to cooking school.
Since JJ Bean is the place to see and be seen on Main St, and the Americano is beyond impeccable, I find myself there quite often. As if in a trance, I inevitably listen to myself ordering a blueberry oatmeal muffin to go with my coffee, wondering what has possessed me to give them another chance. Bitter disappointment soon follows.
Given the weekly muffin fiasco, I've never dared order one of their scones, which look more like scone sculptures of wood and granite than something you would put in your mouth. But today they had something new- the pumpkin scone. It looked rather pretty, an autumnal orange and with an icing. Pumpkin scones are irresistible. I ignored all prior evidence and ordered it, despite its rather steep $3.15 price tag.
Oh, muffins, how I've wronged you! Forgive me, take me back, as long as I never have to eat another one of these scones again! The icing was maple, which although being a fall flavour, clashes unpleasantly with the pumpkin. It was also greyish, grainy, and fell off in flakes. I threw most of it to my little bird friends. The base of the scone was actually fine, and had a nice pumpkin flavour. It was dry but definitely edible. But then it had bits of dried cranberries and nuts, another unwelcome surprise. Has anyone ever actually tasted this recipe before? Thankfully the Americano was delicious as usual.
I know JJ Bean's hiring policy is simply based on the ability to grow a beard and wear an unflattering hat, but seriously, maybe they could find someone who also went to cooking school.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Burgoo
Burgoo is constantly getting crossed off our list. Not because it's bad- on the contrary, it's too popular. Going there is an exercise in frustration. Burgoo Main Street is tiny and seems to always be full, with a oft-sizable line out the door. Their soups and sandwiches really resonate with people here, and considering it's been a long, cold winter, we've been more in need of warming up than usual. But it was a rainy Sunday, so we came in at 4:30 and managed to get a table.
I was still in a brunch mood so I ordered coffee. It came on a wooden plank. I concluded all meals should be served on wood. This was a promising start. I love the interior of Burgoo because it's all polished wood and exposed beams. It's like a chalet and a backwoods cabin, rustic and modern.
I ordered the Burgoo biscuits. These are homemade biscuits with cheddar and parsley. For $4 you get 4 biscuits and enough butter to spread over them all. They're small biscuits but that is just an incredible bargain. Considering they come out fresh and warm and delicious, you really can't go wrong. Even though they're just little, you can still break them up and butter them, and they hold together. So rare! The only criticism is that after a couple, one does find the cheese flavour a little heavy. I also had the delicious French Onion soup so overall I was full and happy. I think Burgoo is a bit overrated but man these biscuits were incredible.
Overall: 4.5 / 5
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Common Loaf Bake Shop
We took a weekend camping trip to Tofino, at the very westernmost edge of Vancouver Island. It's a stunningly beautiful strip of sandy beaches and evergreen forests, and the town is a cool little place epitomizing Vancouver Island culture- slacker, surfer, environmentalist, redneck. Having only instant coffee and bagels for breakfast at the campsite, the very mention of real coffee got me pretty excited for the twenty minute drive into town.
"Common Loaf" seems like it should be a bread-y pun, but I haven't figured it out yet. Is it like, Common Law-f? Not sure what's going on there, it seems like a missed opportunity to me. Leave your ideas for better names in the comments. Anyway, the day was sunny and warm so we could sit outside and enjoy our snacks and meet the various dogs strolling by. There was an enticing selection of baked goods, pizza, soup, etc. And two types of scones! I went for the "herbal" scone. No, this is not a THC-laden magic scone, unfortunately. Although, for you enterprising bakers out there, there'd probably be a good market for such a product on the island. This was just a regular savoury scone with cheese baked in. Since it was lunchtime, that felt more appropriate than the ginger scone.
Anyway, the scone was fantastic! In terms of baking and consistency, it's among the very best I've tried. Chewy and soft on the inside, not at all crumbly, slightly crispy on the outside. Perfect construction. The flavour, though, was a little too herbaceous for me. I'm not sure what exactly was in there, several types of green things (basil? possibly tarragon?), and cheese.
There is a character in Enid Blyton's books, Anne, who would always say to her friends during their idyllic summer picnics, just prior to their adventures, "I always think things taste so much better outdoors, don't you?" So true, Anne. Of course she was probably referring to some hideous English culinary monstrosity, but the sentiment is exactly right. I was ravenously hungry after a long night spent shivering in our tent, as it got down to nearly freezing. So the coffee and the scone really did taste wonderful out there in the sunshine by the sea.
Overall: 4 / 5
"Common Loaf" seems like it should be a bread-y pun, but I haven't figured it out yet. Is it like, Common Law-f? Not sure what's going on there, it seems like a missed opportunity to me. Leave your ideas for better names in the comments. Anyway, the day was sunny and warm so we could sit outside and enjoy our snacks and meet the various dogs strolling by. There was an enticing selection of baked goods, pizza, soup, etc. And two types of scones! I went for the "herbal" scone. No, this is not a THC-laden magic scone, unfortunately. Although, for you enterprising bakers out there, there'd probably be a good market for such a product on the island. This was just a regular savoury scone with cheese baked in. Since it was lunchtime, that felt more appropriate than the ginger scone.
Anyway, the scone was fantastic! In terms of baking and consistency, it's among the very best I've tried. Chewy and soft on the inside, not at all crumbly, slightly crispy on the outside. Perfect construction. The flavour, though, was a little too herbaceous for me. I'm not sure what exactly was in there, several types of green things (basil? possibly tarragon?), and cheese.
There is a character in Enid Blyton's books, Anne, who would always say to her friends during their idyllic summer picnics, just prior to their adventures, "I always think things taste so much better outdoors, don't you?" So true, Anne. Of course she was probably referring to some hideous English culinary monstrosity, but the sentiment is exactly right. I was ravenously hungry after a long night spent shivering in our tent, as it got down to nearly freezing. So the coffee and the scone really did taste wonderful out there in the sunshine by the sea.
Overall: 4 / 5
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Habit's Biscuits
What the hell is a biscuit? Depends who you are. As usual, Americans defile our English words, rightfully stolen from the French. Regardless of linguistic quibbling, biscuits in the American sense are pretty damn good.
Even though they may be the same essential baked good, there are spiritual differences. Like we always say at the Scone Review, scones are dignified, biscuits are Southern-fried. Eating a biscuit causes one to exclaim "y'all" and "I declare!" more than usual, and drink mint juleps.
I had the biscuit and cheese with scrambled eggs and veggie hash for brunch the other day at Habit. The less said about the flat, insipid jalapeno cheese sauce, the better. It was certainly better than Cheez Whiz, I'll give it that.
But the biscuit itself was a marvel. Freshly baked, warm, light and fluffy, but big enough to satisfy. You could imagine yourself in a big farmhouse, eating this at sunup before heading out to the fields. If this was served by itself with melting butter, it would be sensational. For breakfast it should really come with a big pat of butter and a plate of grits.
As usual the JJ Bean coffee at Habit was delicious and the refills plentiful.
Overall: 4 / 5.
Even though they may be the same essential baked good, there are spiritual differences. Like we always say at the Scone Review, scones are dignified, biscuits are Southern-fried. Eating a biscuit causes one to exclaim "y'all" and "I declare!" more than usual, and drink mint juleps.
I had the biscuit and cheese with scrambled eggs and veggie hash for brunch the other day at Habit. The less said about the flat, insipid jalapeno cheese sauce, the better. It was certainly better than Cheez Whiz, I'll give it that.
But the biscuit itself was a marvel. Freshly baked, warm, light and fluffy, but big enough to satisfy. You could imagine yourself in a big farmhouse, eating this at sunup before heading out to the fields. If this was served by itself with melting butter, it would be sensational. For breakfast it should really come with a big pat of butter and a plate of grits.
As usual the JJ Bean coffee at Habit was delicious and the refills plentiful.
Overall: 4 / 5.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Creme de la Crumb
This bakery has been at the top of my list for months simply based on the glowing reviews on the internet. Of course the name is quite dreadful even for this pun enthusiast.
Of the two locations, only the Hamilton Street one is open on Saturdays.
It's really a bizarre shop. Taking up the lower floor of the CBC building, it's gigantic, and totally empty when we got there. The sign is also illegible since Creme is written backwards, so it's like emercdelacrumb, in a script font. Fire that sign maker. Dimly lit inside, it looked closed. Amazingly, the place could probably seat 100 people. One side of it is a bar, which makes no sense considering it claims to be a bakeshop, and closes at 4. I began wondering, have there ever been any other customers? We were there for about 30 minutes and nobody else came in. But never mind all that, I was there for fancy scones. They have some intriguing ones, including vanilla bean and pear, lime and coconut (wha!?), and apple and cheddar. They all looked good but I went for vanilla bean and pear.
It was a nice size for $2.75 and the vanilla made it wonderfully aromatic. Soft and chewy, the pastry was excellent. You can tell it would travel well and not disintegrate, not that I gave it a chance. It had that slightly underdone quality of the best chocolate chip cookies. Once you bite in, almost like an apple pie in consistency. The pears were delicious, soft and not at all grainy. The flavours were quite subtle- not too sweet, buttery, but not heavy or rich, it was really very good. They definitely know what they're doing and, more than that, I think are actively trying to advance the Art of the Scone. Sadly it wasn't completely satisfying due to the unfortunate ambiance. People watching is not really possible since Hamilton and Georgia is devoid of people on a weekend morning. Although the coffee was fine and hot, my cup was only half full. Who wants half a cup of cream in their coffee? I wasn't paying attention but I think they microwaved the scones to warm them up which is sort of nice, but also sort of cheating. I'd like to experience the place during a weekday morning rush when the scones are fresh out of the oven.
Overall: 4 / 5
Of the two locations, only the Hamilton Street one is open on Saturdays.
It's really a bizarre shop. Taking up the lower floor of the CBC building, it's gigantic, and totally empty when we got there. The sign is also illegible since Creme is written backwards, so it's like emercdelacrumb, in a script font. Fire that sign maker. Dimly lit inside, it looked closed. Amazingly, the place could probably seat 100 people. One side of it is a bar, which makes no sense considering it claims to be a bakeshop, and closes at 4. I began wondering, have there ever been any other customers? We were there for about 30 minutes and nobody else came in. But never mind all that, I was there for fancy scones. They have some intriguing ones, including vanilla bean and pear, lime and coconut (wha!?), and apple and cheddar. They all looked good but I went for vanilla bean and pear.
It was a nice size for $2.75 and the vanilla made it wonderfully aromatic. Soft and chewy, the pastry was excellent. You can tell it would travel well and not disintegrate, not that I gave it a chance. It had that slightly underdone quality of the best chocolate chip cookies. Once you bite in, almost like an apple pie in consistency. The pears were delicious, soft and not at all grainy. The flavours were quite subtle- not too sweet, buttery, but not heavy or rich, it was really very good. They definitely know what they're doing and, more than that, I think are actively trying to advance the Art of the Scone. Sadly it wasn't completely satisfying due to the unfortunate ambiance. People watching is not really possible since Hamilton and Georgia is devoid of people on a weekend morning. Although the coffee was fine and hot, my cup was only half full. Who wants half a cup of cream in their coffee? I wasn't paying attention but I think they microwaved the scones to warm them up which is sort of nice, but also sort of cheating. I'd like to experience the place during a weekday morning rush when the scones are fresh out of the oven.
Overall: 4 / 5
Friday, April 1, 2011
Starbucks
If I were to write a book about my life, Starbucks would figure in it prominently. I've been drinking coffee there for half my life. Sad to say, their espresso drinks are not worth getting anymore, now that they are dispensed automatically by those fancy machines. You'll never again get a truly great (or a truly hideous) shot from Starbucks. So it's drip coffee, then. As it should be.
I like to think back to the days of opening the store at 5:30 am, and how we would reserve ourselves some of the blueberry scones for breakfast. Of course, those scones exist only in my memory. Nowadays people wouldn't stand for them. Not enough icing or sugar crystals. Too dry and weird tasting. You could choke on it if you weren`t careful, and the blueberries were too goddamn real for people to handle. I loved them.
So, the Terminal & Begg Street Starbucks. Not all that far from the Terminal & Main Starbucks, I believe this one exists to serve the employees of the various nearby carpeting stores and car dealerships. It also has a Drive-Thru, reinforcing its similarity to a fast food joint. By all rights it should be a dreadful place, but inside it's nice and dimly lit and you can actually sit quite peacefully, if you care to, and watch the traffic jam outside.
Today I went for the infamous lemon cranberry scone. To be blunt, this is the McDonald's cheeseburger of scones. It's been around a long time and it's always exactly the same, give or take a few cranberries. As we all know (especially those of us who survived the pastry strike of '98), Starbucks pastries are mass produced by some industrial bakery and delivered the night before. This is not a good thing.
The weight and texture always surprises me. If you were participating in a protest that had turned violent, and looking for something nearby to hurl at the local constabulary, this scone would be an excellent choice. Its edges are sharp enough to put your eye out, and heavy enough to smash through that fascist shop owner's window.
The flour this scone is made of somehow redefines one's idea of refined white flour. It's not like any other baked good I've ever had. It seems to have been created in a chemist`s lab rather than grown from wheat and milled. I can't understand it. It somehow tastes terrible but you keep eating it, because it's so sweet and addictive. I must say, it's absolutely covered in pretty tasty lemon icing. But it seems stale, somehow, under all that icing. How can it possibly be so hard to bite into something so full of fat and sugar? It resists you. The icing is so artificial. You soon come to regret the choices you've made.
It's inexplicable how I've eaten more of these lemon scones than I care to count. I can only think this is because I'm always trying to recapture the joy of the utterly perfect lemon cranberry scone that Second Cup at Lonsdale Quay used to have, which is everything that this one is not. But Starbucks put them out of business and moved in with their own second-rate version. Then there is the ubiquity of this blasted scone- there's a Starbucks on every corner and a lemon-cran scone in every pastry case.
Overall: 1 / 5
I like to think back to the days of opening the store at 5:30 am, and how we would reserve ourselves some of the blueberry scones for breakfast. Of course, those scones exist only in my memory. Nowadays people wouldn't stand for them. Not enough icing or sugar crystals. Too dry and weird tasting. You could choke on it if you weren`t careful, and the blueberries were too goddamn real for people to handle. I loved them.
So, the Terminal & Begg Street Starbucks. Not all that far from the Terminal & Main Starbucks, I believe this one exists to serve the employees of the various nearby carpeting stores and car dealerships. It also has a Drive-Thru, reinforcing its similarity to a fast food joint. By all rights it should be a dreadful place, but inside it's nice and dimly lit and you can actually sit quite peacefully, if you care to, and watch the traffic jam outside.
Today I went for the infamous lemon cranberry scone. To be blunt, this is the McDonald's cheeseburger of scones. It's been around a long time and it's always exactly the same, give or take a few cranberries. As we all know (especially those of us who survived the pastry strike of '98), Starbucks pastries are mass produced by some industrial bakery and delivered the night before. This is not a good thing.
The weight and texture always surprises me. If you were participating in a protest that had turned violent, and looking for something nearby to hurl at the local constabulary, this scone would be an excellent choice. Its edges are sharp enough to put your eye out, and heavy enough to smash through that fascist shop owner's window.
The flour this scone is made of somehow redefines one's idea of refined white flour. It's not like any other baked good I've ever had. It seems to have been created in a chemist`s lab rather than grown from wheat and milled. I can't understand it. It somehow tastes terrible but you keep eating it, because it's so sweet and addictive. I must say, it's absolutely covered in pretty tasty lemon icing. But it seems stale, somehow, under all that icing. How can it possibly be so hard to bite into something so full of fat and sugar? It resists you. The icing is so artificial. You soon come to regret the choices you've made.
It's inexplicable how I've eaten more of these lemon scones than I care to count. I can only think this is because I'm always trying to recapture the joy of the utterly perfect lemon cranberry scone that Second Cup at Lonsdale Quay used to have, which is everything that this one is not. But Starbucks put them out of business and moved in with their own second-rate version. Then there is the ubiquity of this blasted scone- there's a Starbucks on every corner and a lemon-cran scone in every pastry case.
Overall: 1 / 5
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