When I heard about street vendors selling waffles in Belgium, I was admittedly a little confused. I’d made the dry, puffy squares before, and eaten them at pancake houses, usually sopped with syrup and melted butter collecting in grid-pools; this didn’t strike me as ideal takeout fare. As it turns out, the breakfast waffles commonly found in the US are known as Brussels waffles–Belgian street waffles are another story.
The Liege waffle is smaller, flatter and irregular in shape; with a distinctly different texture. Instead of batter, Liege waffles are made with dough mixed with pearl sugar. The dough lends the waffles a chewy texture, while the sugar kernels caramelize on the crust; forming a sweet, crunchy outer layer.
Just-opened Le Petit Belge, a tiny storefront near Union Square, serves the street-style waffles, made-to-order (as opposed to the packaged variety you’ll find at Whole Foods). While street waffles are generally eaten plain on the go, Le Petit Belge offers a load of tempting toppings, including berries, caramel, frozen yogurt, and chocolate ganache.
I got my waffle ($3.50) with strawberries and whipped cream (.75/topping) but I wish I’d gotten it plain. The crunch and extra-sweetness of the liege waffles made the toppings seem superfluous. Plus, my tiny order came packaged in a bright-red barn of a box that looked like it was built to take thirty Dunkin Donuts munchkins into the wilderness. The waffle itself, however, travelled extremely well, and was delicious.
Le Petit Belge sells other Belgian goodies, such as chocolates, macarons (sweet merengue-like cookies), and poffies (mini crepes), as well as Tavalon teas (this used to be a Tavalon shop). There’s no seating, but go on a nice day and you can snack in Union Square Park. With Le Petit Belge, in addition to the Wafels & Dinges truck parked just down 14th Street at Third Avenue, it looks like there may be a wave of waffle-appreciation afoot.
Le Petit Belge 22 E. 14th St., New York, NY
Mon-Fri 8am-11pm; Sat 9am-11pm; Sun 10am-10pm
Update 6/23/08: Dessert Truck has moved to Third Avenue and St. Mark’s Place
Maybe Dessert Truck is the future for the entrepreneur. Worried about high rent? Slow business? Get yourself a truck and keep your options open. The real stroke of genius, though, is that the truck appears at roughly 6pm, right about when most bakeries close and cravings for gourmet sweets kick in.
Novel “mobile food concept” aside, a dessert truck is only as good as its confections. And there’s some relatively high-quality ones to be had here, all packed in tin foil cups, with spoons for street-eating, and costing $5. There’s also a few unexpected touches–rotating specials, and oddballs like goat-cheesecake, and chocolate bread pudding with bacon creme anglaise.
In fact I was pretty pumped for the bread pudding, a favorite dessert of mine, but one that’s hard to evangelize because so many places do it badly. The version from Dessert Truck was surprising–instead of having a chunky, bready texture, it had the even consistency of a half-baked chocolate cake, with an anglaise that tasted only of cream. It was chocolatey all right, but didn’t really hit the bread pudding mark, as far as I’m concerned. The chocolate mousse was redeemed by its creamy peanut butter center and caramel corn topping (a nice, junky touch), but the chocolate layer was curiously tasteless. However, the slow-baked apples with cranberries, puff pastry, and whipped cream was like a light, cinnamony pie in a cup; and they do a very classic creme brulee–nicely caramelized, crackable crust over smooth custard dotted with vanilla beans.
Despite a few criticisms, I did scrape ALL of my foil cups clean. I may even smell a franchise opportunity here (Dessert Truck is the result of a mind-meld between a pastry chef and an MBA). What NY neighborhood couldn’t use their very own grown-up Mr. Softee?
A review of all six Dessert Truck desserts on Serious Eats
Dessert Truck, the corner of Third Avenue and St. Mark’s Place
6pm-12am every day
Note: Dessert Truck is usually closed when it’s raining. Check their web site if in doubt.
I never tasted a bialy before I lived in New York City. Even in New York these cousins to the more-mainstream bagel are hard to come by. Try to find a good one and most likely, you’ll end up standing at a certain spot on Grand Street, where trendy Lower East Side melds with Chinatown and overlooks a grim shoreline of projects. Here stands Kossar’s Bialys, the remaining stronghold of downtown’s vanished bialy-baking industry.
Inside it seems like little has changed since they opened seventy years ago. Behind a simple counter stand a few wire racks piled with warm bialys, bagels and bulkas. Across a powdery floor, trays of dough placed in tall racks await their turn in the brick oven, whose depths are plumbed by a lone baker with a pole. Seating consists of a bench outside, with an old guy already sitting on it.
But atmosphere isn’t the point–this place is all about bialys. While bagels are boiled rior to baking, rendering their crusts hard and shiny and their innards dense, bialys are simply baked, leaving them lighter and airier, but still chewy and delicious. Instead of a center hole they have a dimple filled with sweet chopped onion. Kossar’s doesn’t toast, so if you do some at home you’ll find even more flavor unleashed, especially with a thin layer of cream cheese or butter spread over top. If you haven’t been for a while, steel yourself for sticker shock–the price of a bilay has skyrocketed from sixty to ninety cents since the halcyon days of 2006. Don’t tell them but I’d probably pay more.
Snack spots, even good ones, come and go quickly in this hood, and I don’t tend to get too attached (witness, if you will, the Chase Bank that was once the venerable Second Avenue Deli). Although the reflex sentiment toward gentrification is dismay, I don’t think shrugging off the past is necessarily a bad thing (now scheduled for demolition/cries of protest–the funeral pyre-ish tower of bedraggled toys on Sixth Street and Avenue B–good fucking riddance). But, ye Manhattan gods! Leave us Kossar’s Bialys! Someone make this a designated landmark of snack before it’s too late!
(shot of the Tower of Toys on East Sixth Street)
Kossar’s Bialys 367 Grand Street at Essex Street. Open 24 Hours Sun-Fri. Closes Fri at sundown. Closed Saturday. REPEAT: Closed Saturday!! If you forget and head down on a Saturday, don’t worry. Donut Plant is a couple doors down, and is worth a visit.
Artichoke Slice. The button on my jeans strains and my heart gives a little grease-choked shudder at the mere memory of taking that first bite, while standing in the kitchen hovering over a damp pizza box. Yes, I eat standing up in my kitchen–sometimes pacing to and from the computer so I can work while I digest bites. I find this addictively calming.
Anyway, back to the pizza. Imagine a decadently creamy alfredo sauce, spread over a sturdy browned crust of uneven thickness, but abundantly puffy around the edges, and generously topped with spinach, mozzarella and artichoke. This is not a bland, plasticky “white pie” with grainy ricotta. It is more like all the good bits of your favorite cheesy pasta dish heaped together on an enormous wedge of crust. I am usually a two-slice girl, but one of these, for a mere $3, knocked me on my ass.
But the wait, oh the wait! You cannot just wander up to a takeout window and procure an artichoke slice. The near-constant line at now two-month old Artichoke Basille does not move any faster since my first visit two weeks ago. Tonight, I waited anywhere between half and hour and an hour (my phone died), and everyone standing in the line wanted artichoke slices (the guy in front of me snatched up three, of course). Of the three menu items I’ve sampled, including the neapolitan and sicilian slices, the artichoke slice is the one worth waiting for, although the other two are very tasty–I actually like the rustic and crunchy sicilian a bit more than the gloppy neapolitan.
The line WILL move though–inch by maddening inch–so bring your homework, cellphone, sunscreen, reading material, flask, cuddle buddy, water bottle, ipod, sketchbook, portable folding chair, or whatever else you’ll need in the meantime… it will be worth it.
Artichoke Basille 328 14th st. between First and Second Avenue
noonish til sometime after midnight - try calling ahead for hours and pies
Count on half hour wait for slices, at least.
I don’t know of too many baked goods that warrant their own website comparing them to mermaids and unicorns, but City Bakery’s pretzel croissant has one, perhaps deservedly so. A dream-concoction of sweet and savory, the pretzel croissant boasts a flaky, salty, sesame seed-studded crust, which you crunch through to reach the chewy whole wheat middle. A hint of pretzel leads to irresistible nibbling while the tad-buttery, doughy center leaves you oh-so-satisfied. For the dwindling moments spent with this snack, mere pretzels and croissants seem bland by comparison, and cult-like devotion is completely understandable.
At $3.50 each, pretzel croissants are what I’d call an affordable luxury, but if you’re really gunning to get the most bang for your buck, pack one up and pair it with a cold beer (I like Sierra Nevada Pale Ale - $2.00/bottle). Now you can call it “brunch fit for a champion.”
And for the record, the cookies, muffins, scones and tarts at City Bakery are all pretty good, but their pretzel croissants and the hot chocolate are the stuff you’ll day-dream about some day when you’re far away from Manhattan.
City Bakery 3 West 18th St. between Fifth and Sixth Avenue
Mon-Fri 7:30am-7pm Sat 7:30am-6pm Sun 9am-6pm