In search of the perfect pastry

I am a pastry connoisseur. I repeat myself but I shall say it again. Ah lohve pastries. And since I pretty much live to eat (my brother and I agree on this one thing), you can imagine that a good pastry, for me, is to die for. And an exquisite one...oh the lengths I will go for that :-)

In my opinion, a good pastry mustn't overwhelm. If it serves as part of tea, it must accompany and allow for the tea drinker and pastry sampler to enjoy other treats too, not selfishly make the eater so full that another piece would kill them! And if it serves as dessert, it must sweeten the palate and provide a perfect end to a meal, not be a second meal. This is why I object most vehemently to what passes these days for pastries/dessert in most restaurants. First of all what's with the abundance of whipped cream? And that too the kind that comes out of a can. Sacrilege!

No if it must be there, the cream (whipped by a human being) must accompany a pastry, enhance it, sit by its side, or on top, but never smother it to oblivion.

In my quest for the perfect pastry, I have sampled wares from many a bakery and pattisserie. In Chicago, my favorites are Rolf's (who supplies Whole foods and whose petit fours are light and heavenly), The Austrian Bakery on Clark street (whose marzipan torte is a must try and try again) and the ever so chic Julius Meinl (too many delights to name but the Esterhazy comes to mind as I write this).

I have sampled the wares of Bittersweet whose cookies one must put on their "things to eat before I die" list. In my quest to eat and yet keep it light (or so I tell myself), I try to stick to petit fours as much as possible. And in the quest of the perfect petit fout, I have ordered what the web proclaimed the best petit fours (and although I think Rolf's are lighter, these are less pedestrian and delightful) from Dragonfly--a bakery in San Francisco, I believe. And now dangerously close to home is a place that makes among other delicacies, the best cupcakes on earth. And I should know 'cause I have tried most of them out there. Honey is the name of the place.

If I am walking down a street and see the words bakery, the store front merits a visit at least. Most are too low brow with giant cookies and things too enormous for my snobbish tastes but to use one of my favorite literary characters, Archy McNally's phrase, "One never knows, do one?"

I hadn't discovered the queen of all pastry shops until I chanced to be in Paris and crossed the threshold of Laduree. The maker of the French macaron (no, not the coconut macaroon which can also be yummy) but the version that Marie Antionette favored. She may or may not have said, 'let them eat cake', but she sure knew her cakes. Or at least Sophia Coppola made her seem such in her movie. Laduree supplied their scrumptious spread for the film. Oh to have been an intern on that set!

Anyhoo, Laduree, another word for eden is the maker of heaven in the form of pastry. I have tried a few of their offerings and my favorite of them all is the Blackcurrant-Violet "Religieuse"--Choux pastry, blackcurrant & violet flavoured confectioner’s custard (the picture on the left doesn't begin to do it justice). It is, to use their own words, a religious experience. Light, flavorful, delightful, the unusual flavor of lavender and sadly, absolutely unavailable outside Paris!

How many bakers have I approached asking them if they know how to make this confection and how many times have I been looked at as a mad woman. Little do they know what they are missing by not making the effort.

I should make the effort myself, I know. But I am not lazy, I am just not able to find a recipe for it.

Except when I found out (prior to our recent trip to London) that they have a branch there at Harrods. I found myself looking forward not to Buckingham palace or the Kohinoor (which I shall be attempting to steal and give back to my people, the rightful owners of said stone). Oh no, what beckoned me to London were two things: Laduree and afternoon tea at Orangerie.

We returned from London a day ago and alas the Violet, I was informed by Ms. Snobbish herself (wo)manning the pastry country at Laduree, is a seasonal item. But the Rose Framboise was equally delectable--rose flavored icing covered choux pastry with raspberries and cream accompanying. The experience was marred only by our son jumping up and down on silken cushions with a waiter frowning nearby willing us to leave. Still, afternoon tea at the Orangerie overlooking Kensignton palace was a dream--warm English scones with jam and clotted cream, orange cake, almond cake, walnut white chocolate slices and more to savor while sipping teas (that I later found out the thieves were selling at $20 a pound). Overall, pastry bliss.

My quest for perfection in the pastry has ended at Laduree.

Oh but I mustn't forget the wonderful world of the Indian sweet. The variety of it, the sheer plethora of choices and tastes and flavors. The--but now, now don't get me started.