Last week I was in San Francisco which means I’ll be posting some images of my adventures. The first stop? Tartine Bakery. A French bakery on Guerrero street that proudly bears the crest of their James Beard pastry chef award and is manned by a team of authentic hipsters that have a Parisian countryside vibe. We walked (or rolled?) out of Tartine ten pounds fatter than when we arrived. Why? Because when you see those perfectly crafted pastries and well-plated confections you just lose it. And after standing in line for so long (the bakery is pretty small) when you get up to the till you start ordering like a machine gun. I want “the morning bun, the wild mushroom croque monsieur, the lemon tart, the pain au chocolat…” it all flies out like bullets at a shooting range. The brown sugar and orange morning bun tastes like a blend of a sugary donut, the heart of a cinnamon roll and three rays of sunshine. The open-faced croquet monsieur…I mean look at that image (below). Watch the gruyere drip. Words are not enough. The lemon tart (my favorite) was the crispest bite of citrus heaven with a dollop of fresh, whipped cream you will ever have. I felt like the cow was in the kitchen. I’m not a fan of chocolate but one bite of the pain au chocolat was enough to make me a temporary convert. The sinful dark chocolate refused to be confined, it oozed out of the flaky croissant with one bite. Go. In fact run to Tartine and roll yourself out. It’s some of the best baked goods I’ve had in America. Fact.
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