The pastry scene in lower Manhattan has been severely skewed for some time. Those of you who track crumbs may have noticed — except for ALF Bakery from baguette laminator Amadou Ly, and Janie’s Life Changing Baked Goods with its pie-crust cookies, the past few years haven’t brought much new to the Western side of the grid. But in the last couple of months, things have started to turn around for those sweet-seekers who spend their time below 14th Street, closer to the Hudson than to the East River: three new bake shops have opened in the West Village. Here they are, from decent to delightful.
Realmuto Alta Pasticceria Italiana
The pastry case at Realmuto.
Is it a pasticceria? A ristorante? A gelateria? It’s all of those things and it’s an all-day shrine to eleganza, from its marble surfaces to its stylish packaging — there’s even a grand piano on display. Named for its owner, Sicilian-born Francesco Realmuto, it’s the latest addition to the Realmuto Hospitality Group, whose holdings include Filaga Pizzeria and L’Arte Del Gelato, both located in Chelsea Market.
The gelato at Realmuto is some of the best in the city. It’s also the standout among the large selection of sweet things at this atrium of fancy Italian comestibles. Skip the cookies; they range from disappointing to middling. Pass on the cannoli, too; they’re pre-stuffed, so their shells sog out in the refrigerated case.
But pastry chef Giuseppe Zito’s entremets are technically well-executed and are just the sort of thing to bring to a dinner party. The Fragolina is a stunner, shaped and colored like the wild strawberry. The featured berry sits in compote form at the center of the confection, enveloped by a soft Haitian vanilla cream with a zing from lime zest. And if you like Swiss Miss pudding or Ferrero Rocher bonbons, chances are you’ll enjoy the mini (or large-format) Realmuto; it brings two mousses together — one hazelnut, one chocolate — under a coating of shiny, dark-chocolate glaze. I’m looking forward to the holiday season, because Zito was crowned the world champion for his panettone and he’s brought them here. 117 Seventh Avenue South, at Christopher Street, Greenwich Village
Claude
A slice of Manhattan Blackout Cake.
I did not want to like this place for the childish reason that it replaced one of the best-kept secrets and true neighborhood places left in Greenwich Village. Opened in 1982 by Claude Le Brenne, a Frenchman who went by Monsieur Claude, Patisserie Claude quietly manufactured some of the best croissants in the city. Like the shop itself, they were unadorned and came as close to a Parisian original as any you might find on our shores. When the owner retired in 2008, his assistant Pablo Valdez bought the business and continued to run it just as his predecessor had.
Now, it’s a totally new place but one that pays homage to what came before it and to its founder. Anthony Roonchareon, a pastry chef with an impressive CV that includes stints in the kitchens of the Jean-Georges and Starr restaurant groups, jokes that he doesn’t speak French, but he knows how to bake as though he does.
For now, he’s focusing on the classic laminated staples, updating the croissant to meet what he calls “the criteria of the new generation.” They’re double the size, darker in crust, and the yeasty flavor is a bit more pronounced. They’re quite good, even if they’re not Claude the First’s. Roonchareon’s is one of the better almond croissants I’ve had in a long time, although it is ginormous. And I could eat a slice of the leek quiche for lunch any day of the week — wouldn’t you know, it’s Monsieur’s recipe!
But the showstopper is not French at all. It’s the double-layer Manhattan Blackout Cake and it is all-American perfection: not too sweet, a moist dense, cocoa-rich crumb, an irresistibly smooth ganache frosting, and a hedgerow of jimmies. Also, a few weeks ago, Roonchareon introduced a banana pudding to rival Magnolia’s, and a seasonal pumpkin layer cake with a well-spiced, moist crumb and my ideal cream-cheese frosting. 187 W. Fourth Street, at Barrow Street, West Village
COPS
I’ve never really thought of Toronto as a bastion of doughnuts, so when I discovered this six-year-old import had landed in NYC, I was intrigued. (Plus, I liked the name and its corresponding web addy, eatcops.com.) As you’d expect, the outfit specializes in the stereotypical daily meal of police officers everywhere (or at least in the Northeast).
First off, these cake-based suckers are miniature in size, and they’re surprisingly chewy: not like mochi-doughnut chewy, but the dough has a little bounce-back to it that makes them especially satisfying to eat. They’re also always hot. Fried-to-order (in canola oil, if you are wondering), because they’re so wee, they take no time at all. Oh, and they’re served in a cute box designed with little air-venting flaps to let the steam out — and a FORK. There are three different glaze options: the OG sour cream with condensed milk, cinnamon sugar with a spiffing of salt, and whatever the weekly special is (and it’s often collaborative).
For launch, it combined La Cabra coffee with duck-fat caramel and lemongrass spice. It was my favorite of the lot, although I would happily eat the regular offerings again. In October, founder Alex White and his crew teamed up with Doughnut Plant, whose premises they co-opted, by creating special flavors that pay tribute to some of the shuttered businesses’ greatest hits. This month finds them in a more festive mode, with last week’s streusel-topped apple glazed babies and this week’s pumpkin spice. Order each flavor by the half-dozen, so if you want to try all three, you’re getting a minimum of 18. It might sound like a lot, but they go fast. 10 Morton Street, at Seventh Avenue South, Greenwich Village
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