The Grand Cookie Crawl: Bouchon Bakery

2014-05-19 19.03.12

I have to apologize. I’ve been so busy filling my time and stomach with nachos and ice cream, I’ve neglected one of my most important missions — to wade through the endless morass of New York’s chocolate chip cookies for your edification and sanity. After far too long a hiatus, I bring you another entry in the annals of the Grand Cookie Crawl (and as a bonus, this one features pretender to the Oreo throne)!

In the waning days of freedom of my inter-job NYC staycation, I had the fortune of going to a taping of the Daily Show with (who else) Jacob, and so after an exhausting 90 minutes of sitting and laughing loudly, we obviously were in dire need of sustenance … made completely of sugar. So we trekked up Broadway to Columbus Circle, to sample the wares at Bouchon Bakery.

Bouchon Bakery is famed chef Thomas Keller’s ode to French boulangeries. Keller is the chef/owner behind 8 restaurants in the US, including renowned California restaurants The French Laundry and Ad Hoc, and NY hot spot Per Se (located next to Bouchon Bakery in the Time Warner Center). Not impressed enough? Keller has seven Michelin Stars, and according to his bio is the only American-born chef to hold multiple 3-star ratings by the Michelin Guide. I’ve yet to be able to visit one of his restaurants, but with Bouchon Bakery much more within reach, I was determined to try whatever of Keller’s output I could get access to.

 

 

First Impressions

 

The soft white and pastel paint of Bouchon Bakery are a nice break from the mall's metal and glass architecture.

The soft white and pastel paint of Bouchon Bakery are a nice break from the mall’s metal and glass architecture.

Located in the “Shops at Columbus Circle” (aka the Time Warner Center) just down the hall from Per Se, this location of Bouchon Bakery (there’s another in 30 Rock) is, well, kind of just a fancy mall bakery. When you get down to brass tax, the Time Warner Center is just a glitzy, glass and metal version of many of the upscale malls you can find in America. It’s anchored by the pedigree of high-caliber restaurants like Per Se and priciest-meal-in-NYC sushi heaven Masa, but look past them and you’ll find plenty of familiar faces, from Sephora and Williams Sonoma to Swarovski and even the Art of Shaving. So you can’t really fault Bouchon Bakery for fitting into this mold, restrained in both its physical and aesthetic footprints.

 

 

The large selection of baked goods helps, too.

The large selection of baked goods helps, too. That’s right, those macarons come in regular and SUPER-SIZED.

The space is fairly generic at first glance — a counter with refrigerated cases facing out towards a cluster of metal tables and chairs. Small touches evoke a French influence, from the delicate palette of pastel greens and pinks in the Bouchon Bakery logo and menus (not to mention the literally French quotes on the wall), to the chalkboard menus, to the retro light fixtures hanging above the baked goods. Speaking of, there were still a good amount of options at 7:30pm, including a wide variety of macarons (small and giant-sized), cookies, and traditional pastries. Bouchon Bakery also offers a small selection of savory items with sample versions displayed, leaving me vaguely disgusted by a bowl of soup that had to be on the verge of entirely congealed. When you get close to dinner, I’d suggest skipping the Bakery counter in favor of the recently opened cafe, which has a more robust menu, and probably doesn’t leave its soup out for hours.

Undeterred by sludgy soups, Jacob and I went for a selection of the Bouchon Bakery classics — a Chocolate Chip Cookie, a TKO (Thomas Keller Oreo, chosen for obvious reasons), and the eponymous Bouchon (which Jacob makes everyone try).

 

 

The Cookies:

 

The eponymous Bouchon, an elegantly cork-shaped ... fancy fudge cake.

The eponymous Bouchon, an elegantly cork-shaped … fancy fudge cake.

We’ll start with Bouchon Bakery’s namesake, the Bouchon. The word means “cork” in French, which explains its shape, but belies its heft. This is no crumbly, air-filled confection — it’s basically a dense, fudgy chocolate chocolate cake, made out of such a dark cocoa powder it’s nearly black (suggesting dutch-, or even ultra-dutch-processed cocoa). The taste was reminiscent of a box brownie mix, and I mean that in the best way possible — chewy and rich rather than cakey, the outside made of a crisp, thin skin giving way to a moist interior crumb. I certainly enjoyed the Bouchon, but found it almost too much even at such a small size. I’d love to pair it with a scoop of ice cream to vary up the texture a bit.

 

 

The TKO, for the discerning eater who doesn't claim Oreos as her kryptonite (aka, not me).

The TKO, for the discerning eater who doesn’t claim Oreos as her kryptonite (aka, not me).

Now as we know I’m a skeptic when it comes to Oreo-imitators. I’ll use Joe-Joes in baked goods in the place of Oreos, but if I’m chowing down on just the cookies, get those Newman-o’s away from my face. However, a simple Google search of “Bouchon TKO” will yield endless blog posts naming the cookie as “to die for,” “amazing” and a “more sophisticated” take on an Oreo. Occasionally I like to pretend I’m more than a 5-year with her hand in the cookie-jar when it comes to dessert, so I stuffed down my trepidation and made the ultimate sacrifice of eating an artisanal cookie.

Sadly, my friends, Nabisco’s dodgy ingredient list still wins the day. I found myself perplexingly disappointed by how, well, fresh the TKO was. The scalloped wafer cookies were made with the same uber-dark cocoa powder as employed in the Bouchon, which was evocative of Oreos, at least in appearance. The flavor of the cookies, however, was too intensely chocolatey, and there was a strange smoky/salty aftertaste that left Jacob semi-convinced Keller uses bacon in his cookies. The filling was a white chocolate buttercream, far too soft to stand up again the rigid wafers, so that with each bite I found the cream squeezing out the sides and into my hands. Again, the definitive white chocolate flavor was a step away from the unmistakable but somewhat anonymously sweet taste of Oreo creme. As so often happens, this was really a case of subverted expectations. Had I been given a TKO without knowing its name or inspiration, I probably would have happily dug in — to Keller’s credit, it’s a visually appealing cookie, well-made with high quality ingredients. But with the weight of Oreo reverence already tipping the scales, it’s no surprise that personally, the TKO didn’t stand a chance.

 

 

Bouchon Bakery's Chocolate Chip Cookie, simple, staid, classic, and pretty damn tasty.

Bouchon Bakery‘s Chocolate Chip Cookie, simple, staid, classic, and pretty damn tasty.

The reverse situation happened to me while eating the Chocolate Chip Cookie. It had mostly been an afterthought — an obligation for covering the Grand Cookie Crawl, and nowhere near as exciting as the new, shiny, unfamiliar Bouchon and TKO. But of course, it’s the underdog that steals first place. Bouchon’s Chocolate Chip Cookie is roughly the same size and shape as the ones at City Bakery and Jacques Torres — wide, thin, golden brown in hue. Bouchon uses semi-sweet chocolate chunks, and through the mystery of cookie chemistry, these chunks maintain a semi-solid state well after cooling (these cookies were sitting under heat lamps in a case, rather than warmed like JT’s). As you split the cookie, these pockets of gooey chocolate ripped open and oozed outward (although not quite the deluge of Levain‘s entry). I’ve come to the conclusion that the quality of the chocolate chips is not a huge priority for me when it comes to these cookies. Nestle semi-sweet or Guittard 80%, I’ll take either if given a properly executed dough. And Bouchon delivers exactly that — a cookie base with a crispy exterior but chewy inside, and strong notes of caramelized brown sugar and vanilla. To me, a good chocolate chip cookie baker isn’t afraid of his eaters encountering the stray chip-less bite, because the dough can stand on its own (sometimes I search through my mother’s batches for a chip-free runt of the litter, because her recipe is that good).

 

 

Final Verdict:

 

I’m still waiting for the cookie that can unseat Levain, and I’m not sure I’ll find it in NY. Anyone who thinks their favorite can topple those UWS behemoth baked goods, please let me know. I’m very much game for the challenge. However, I would slide Bouchon’s Chocolate Chip Cookie in above City Bakery’s (and Jacques Torres), because it had the killer combo of texture and flavor. Certainly I’d recommend Bouchon’s drop cookies over the TKO, although I’ll allow that others may be able to look beyond the paragon of packaged cookies and appreciate the subtlety of Keller’s ode to the childhood classic. I do want to try his take on a Nutter Butter, since I’m much more open-minded when it comes to peanut butter-based desserts. I’d also like to return for more items in the vein of the Bouchon, to see how Keller does with his takes on more traditional French pastries and cakes (those eclairs were calling out to me).

Considering its surroundings and pedigree, Bouchon Bakery is relatively unpretentious, and worth a visit if only for the variety of its menu, and the lovely view out onto Columbus Circle. Does it have the local, down-home vibe of a place like Levain? Of course not, it’s in a mall, after all. But if you can look beyond the brand, Bouchon Bakery does offer more than one spoonful of sugar to make your post-shopping credit card bill just a little bit easier to swallow.

 

Bouchon Bakery

Ten Columbus Circle, Third Floor

New York, NY 10019

http://bouchonbakery.com/

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Snackshots: Polar Vortex (Warm Chocolate Edition)

2014-01-03 15.23.59

Can you guess the theme of this post?

I think I’ve proven my commitment to dessert by now. It’s generally an easy guarantee to make that, much like the US Postal Service, neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of light will stay this sweet seeker from the swift ingesting of a toothsome treat. But the weather gods tested my resolve this past week with the crushing blow of the Polar Vortex, plunging temperatures around the country and for once dissuading me from satisfying my cravings with an ice cream cone. With frozen dessert out of the way, I found myself falling back on an oldie-but-goody — the timeless allure of hot chocolate. As I battled with the windchill to avoid frostbite (although at least I was in a part of the country that could safely venture outside), I found a couple of a worthy warm chocolate treats to start the reheating process from the inside-out.

 

L.A. Burdick:

I'm dreaming of a white chocolate Christmas..,

I’m dreaming of a white chocolate Christmas..,

After returning to Hu Kitchen for a relatively healthy lunch, it was clear that Jacob and I needed some emergency chocolate, stat (I mean, what’s the point of a nutritious meal if you don’t immediately slather it in sugar?). Jacob suggested a trip to L.A. Burdick, yet another confectionary near his apartment (because ‘Wichcraft, Beecher’s, Maison Kayser and City Bakery aren’t enough for the neighborhood. Frickin’ Gramercy grumblegrumble).

I’d initially come across about this chocolate shop while researching the best hot chocolate in the city, but hadn’t managed to stop by last winter. The shop was started by an American named Larry Burdick, who became enamored with the chocolate he encountered during a trip to Switzerland and France. He started making chocolate in New York City, but Burdick and his family then moved to Walpole, NH and expanded the business, now operating cafes, restaurants, and even a grocery in Walpole, the Boston-metro area, and once more in NYC.

Every surface is piled high with chocolate-related goods.

Did you say you wanted chocolate? I think we might have some of that here…

The white chocolate version of the famous mice.

The white chocolate version of the famous mice.

Walking in, I couldn’t help but think of L.A. Burdick as a larger, more established version of one of my absolute favorite spots in Philly — the now-defunct Naked Chocolate (rest in peace), a fantastic chocolatier where I had my first taste of authentic European drinking chocolate. The New York location is a combination cafe and retail shop, with a few benches and tables up front, and the remaining space completely covered in chocolate products and paraphernalia. There are two counters inside — to the right, you can buy beverages and pastries, while on the left you can choose from a selection of their chocolate and bon bons, including their famous chocolate mice and chocolate penguins. In between the two are tables piled high with chocolate bars, gift sets, candy, and take-home hot chocolate mixes.

In the door, and straight to the beverage counter. Do not pass go, do not collect bon bons.

In the door, and straight to the beverage counter. Do not pass go, do not collect bon bons.

But with our feet demonstrably caked in slush, Jacob and I made a beeline for the drinks counter, quickly dismissing slices of cake or linzer torte in our quest for drinking chocolate. On Jacob’s previous visit he had tried the Burdick Blend Dark Chocolate (there are also milk and white chocolate blends), and though I was tempted by the other two, by this point I know Jacob’s preference for dark chocolate, and so was perfectly happy to try one of L.A. Burdick’s single-source varieties (ranging from Bolivia to Grenada). Now I know next-to-nothing about terroir, wine, chocolate or otherwise, so I let Jacob chose our source variety. He went with the Madagascar, because of some amazing Madagascan chocolate he’d had from Michel Cluizel’s shop.

I'm fairly certain they use this hot chocolate for the mustaches in the Got Milk? ads.

I’m fairly certain they use this hot chocolate for the mustaches in the Got Milk? ads.

Although I can’t compare our cup to the standard Burdick blends or the other source varieties (guess I’ll just have to make a return trip … or several), the hot chocolate ended up being a showstopper. We shared a large, which was a strong choice, since L.A. Burdick is not joking around when it comes to texture and flavor. This ain’t no powdery Swiss Miss packet. The chocolate is thick, nearly spreadable in consistency, coating your tongue and throat like the best cough drop you’ve ever had. The liquid is opaque, as if you were being served a warmed cup of melted chocolate ice cream. The flavor was complex, the bitterness from the high cacao percentage tempering the inherent sweetness of the milk.  L.A. Burdick’s hot chocolate is perhaps a little less intense than the hot chocolate at City Bakery, which basically serves you a cup of I-need-to-go-lie-down chocolate soup. However, while L.A. Burdick’s version is definitely not a casual , on-the-go-drink, it is a great way to experience and savor a high quality chocolate, and in these chilly months, to warm yourself up. Plus, they’ll throw a little liquor in there if you’re looking for a night-cap (or want to pre-game with a heavy dairy-dessert, whatever floats your boat).

You have to love a place that sells tiny chocolate penguins.

You just have to love a place that sells tiny chocolate penguins.

 

LeChurro:

LeChurro: a slim cafe to match their products.

LeChurro: a slim space to match their products.

A few nights later, it seemed like the air was only getting colder. Somehow I managed to convince Jacob to come up to my neck of the woods for once, to finally check an item off our endless list at the aptly named churro shop, LeChurro. Located on Lexington between 82nd and 83rd, LeChurro is a petite shop sitting right in between two subway stops. Although I rarely walk down that way, there was pretty good traffic during our visit, especially considering how chilly it was outside.

Part of the great LeChurro recipe, according to their wall mural.

Part of the great LeChurro recipe, according to their wall mural.

The small, boxy space is largely taken up by the counter and kitchen behind it, where churros are fried to order. The remaining area is taken up by a bench lining the north wall and a few small tables and chairs across from it. The south wall is lined with shelves filled with merchandise (both connected to churros and the kind of oddball knick-knacks you’d find at Urban Outfitters). The wall above the seating displays a large mural detailing “The Great LeChurro Recipe from Spain,” with cartoon illustrations of the ingredients and procedures of producing the perfect churro. The entire cafe gives off a quirky, tongue-in-cheek vibe which helps to mitigate the pretentious air that comes from running a Spanish churro-centric shop, especially one called LeChurro.

Ah yes, exactly as the Queen said during WWII.

Ah yes, exactly as the Queen said during WWII.

When we arrived the cashier was handing out free samples of their Spanish Thick Drinking Chocolate. Of course, it was nowhere near the caliber of L.A. Burdick’s rendition, but LeChurro is clearly going for a more down-to-earth, possibly multiple-source chocolate drink. Taken on its own, it was a rich, decadent hot chocolate, slightly thicker than what you’d get at a coffeehouse, and on the darker side of milk chocolate.

The menu offers iterations of churros, milkshakes, hot chocolates, and coffee and espresso. Within the churros you can get the normal long, straw of dough with a variety of dipping sauces, or bite-sized mini churros, or filled churros, which are circular churros covered in a sauce and then dipped in chocolate. They even have churro sundaes and savory churros (called “pizzos” and made up of mini churros stuffed with mozzarella and topped with marinara).

Our Cone of Churros, plus the freebies. Chocolate comes to those who wait.

Our Cone of Churros, plus the freebies. Chocolate comes to those who wait.

We ended up selecting the traditional “Cone of Churros” with Hazelnut Chocolate dipping sauce, because at this point my life, I’ve fully sold my soul to Nutella. LeChurro had been somewhat busy when I placed the order and paid, so I wasn’t surprised that there was a little delay in our churros’ arrival (after all, they’re frying to order). But then the store emptied out, and Jacob and I sat quietly waiting as nearly ten minutes passed with nary a Spanish pastry in sight. Finally I got up and asked (aka reminded) the cashier about it. Both he and the cook were very apologetic, having clearly forgotten our order completely. They went to work immediately, and gave us a few freebies to make up for it, so when we were finally served we got a couple more small tastes of the drinking chocolate, a dulce de leche filled churro, and two extra plain churros in our cone.

The churros flying solo.

The churros flying solo.

No surprise, the churros were fresh and warm, straight from the fryer and dusted in cinnamon sugar. At their core they have a flavor reminiscent of funnel cake, and the cinnamon sugar topping added just the barest hint of spice. I appreciated the crunchy outer layer and the airy interior, but considering how freshly made they were, these churros were just not that memorable. I actually much preferred our free filled churro, since there you had the textural contrast of the smooth chocolate coating, the sticky, gooey dulce de leche, and the cakey softness of the inner pastry. I much prefer this type of salty-sweet combo to the sea salt and caramel trend that continues to flood all dessert shops (I’m looking at you, 16 Handles). The extra samples of drinking chocolate were as tasty as the first ones we tried, but the stand-out liquid was actually the hazelnut dipping sauce, proving once again the all-powerful allure of warmed Nutella.

I could definitely see myself returning to LeChurro, albeit for a beverage rather than the churros themselves. The hot chocolate menu features a variety of flavor additions (including hazelnut), and I’d easily give into sampling one of the shakes or a frozen hot chocolate once we exit double-socks-triple-scarves territory.

 

I’d say both L.A. Burdick and LeChurro are spots to keep in your back pocket if you’re as much of a chocoholic as I am. I’m eager to go back to L.A. Burdick and explore some more single source varieties, especially since I’m still trying to expand my taste for dark chocolate. But it’s also nice to have LeChurro in my neighborhood, as a casual, spur of the moment kind of place that offers a dessert option beyond the endless froyo buffets. Although, now that the Polar Vortex has spun on, I’m kinda in the mood for some ice cream…

 

L.A. Burdick

5 East 20th Street

http://www.burdickchocolate.com/chocolateshop-cafe-nyc.aspx

LeChurro

1236 Lexington Avenue

http://lechurro.com/

The Grand Cookie Crawl: Jacques Torres Chocolate

The frosty air of these winter months dulls the senses. I leaned into the wind, pulling my collar tighter against my neck. I’d let myself get distracted in the past few weeks, pulled in by the jelly-filled hemlines of fancy dames like Lady Orwasher, or the dulcet tones of that Salty Pimp. Truth was, I couldn’t figure the last time I’d really knuckled down on the case. Here I was, a chance to pull myself out of the slums, to stop taking cases full of nobodies like those Fig Newtons and Chips Ahoy, a chance to play with the big boys, and what was I doing? Spinning my wheels and letting my eyes wander. I’m supposed to be checking out these alleged “best chocolate chip cookies” of New York, and all the checking out I’m doing is at the Food Emporium down the block. Another gust blew through me. Numb fingers fumbled with the slip of paper in my pocket. I had to refocus. Yes, all I had was this flimsy lead — a single name, an Upper West Side address, although I’d heard this guy had been seen all over the city. But I had to stop fooling around. I’d staked my reputation on this — there’s only one broad on the dessert beat, and that’s me. If I wanted to keep my cred, I had to check this guy out. Tonight, I had a date with Mr. Chocolate.

I can’t be the only one thinks a little film noir voiceover would add a lot of gravitas to everyday life, right? A little Bogie and Bacall to brighten up your case of the Mondays? At least then I can ignore the fact that my great “mission” is to purchase and devour a whole mess of chocolate chip cookies. Despite numerous delicious setbacks, this past weekend I finally got back to the Grand Cookie Crawl, making my way to one of the stores of Mr. Chocolate himself, Jacques Torres.

Jacques Torres Chocolate has 6 locations throughout Manhattan and Brooklyn, including one shop that focuses on ice cream instead of chocolate. Torres, a world-renowned pastry chef, is known mainly for his bars, bon bons, and hot chocolate (which I fully intend to investigate at a later date), but I’d seen his chocolate chip cookies on several “best of” lists, and I could believe that a man who prides himself on the quality of his chocolate, probably uses damn fine chocolate chips. So I paid a visit to the Upper West Side chocolate shop, which is a mere half a block away from Levain Bakery. Despite their physical proximity, the two businesses couldn’t be more different.

 

First Impressions:

The warm browns and reds and endless chocolate products make Jacques Torres pretty inviting from the get-go.

The warm browns and reds of the decor make Jacques Torres appear Continental, yet inviting from the get-go.

 

Unlike Levain’s humble basement bakeshop, Jacques Torres Chocolates (JTC) is a spacious, brightly lit shop in the style of a Parisian cafe. Once you walk in you’re faced with two options — to the left is a long counter displaying baked goods and chocolate confections, and to the right is the coffee and hot chocolate bar. The walls are filled with shelves and shelves of chocolate products, from powders to chocolate covered nuts and more. Torres said his initial vision was to create a “chocolate wonderland,” and the almost-overwhelming variety of chocolate products on display seems pretty Wonka-esque to me. One of his downtown locations features large windows into his factory floor, allowing customers to view the chocolate-making process in action, which I imagine only adds to the fantasy of Oompa-Loompas dredging chocolate rivers. The cafe has a few tables scattered throughout, and it seemed to be a cozy space to get a coffee and share a few treats with a friend. Although the cold weather was practically begging me to get a cup of hot chocolate, I had to resist and turn my attention to the cookie counter.

A view from the back of the shop -- the coffee/hot chocolate bar is in the background.

A view from the back of the shop — the coffee/hot chocolate bar is in the background.

 

The Cookies:

You really can't beat multiple stacks of cookies on display. Up front, the Chocolate Chip, and just behind it is the Mudslide. The Peanut Butter cookie is hiding in the very back.

You really can’t beat multiple stacks of cookies on display. Up front, the Chocolate Chip, and just behind it is the Mudslide. The Peanut Butter cookie is hiding in the very back.

 

The cookies are placed at the very front of the store, the closest items to the register. JTC offers 3 types of cookies — the standard Chocolate Chip, the Chocolate Mudslide (a double chocolate cookie with walnuts), and a Peanut Butter cookie. In our continuing two cookie sampling process, Jacob and I purchased the Chocolate Chip and the Chocolate Mudslide. JTC has its own procedure for delivering a unique cookie experience — while Levain is constantly baking batches to give customers cookies fresh out of the oven, and City Bakery keeps their cookies lukewarm under hot lamps, JTC gives you the option of enjoying a warm cookie no matter what time of day. Only the Chocolate Chip and Mudslide are available warm, a feat achieved by keeping a stash of cookies on a hot plate just behind the register.

The Chocolate Chip and the Chocolate Mudslide, coming in at about the size of a bagel.

The Chocolate Chip and the Chocolate Mudslide, coming in at about the size of a bagel.

 

In terms of physical makeup, the JTC’s cookies are large and flat, much more in the vein of City Bakery’s brand rather than the pet-rock shaped Levain cookies. They seemed to be about the size of a classic black and white cookie or a medium-sized bagel  — barely fitting in your hand. The Chocolate Chip was a little larger than the Mudslide, but the Mudslide won the fight in terms of thickness.

The dark streaks of chocolate that were visible on the surface turned out to be liquid chocolate eager to burst out.

The dark streaks of chocolate that were visible on the surface turned out to be pockets of liquid chocolate eager to burst out.

 

Breaking into the cookie, the effects of the different warming techniques became obvious. City Bakery’s cookies had just a little give but were predominately crunchy — still flavorful, but clearly baked much earlier the day. As I gushed about before, Levain’s fresh-baked cookies were my kind of texture, slightly underdone with a soft, chewy dough that mixed with the melting chocolate. JTC’s cookie again falls somewhere in the middle. The hot plate turned the chocolate chips into pockets of gooey, melted chocolate puddles, reminiscent of hot fudge sauce when you broke the cookie apart. The warmed dough was also softer, splitting easily but with a crispy top and definitely completely baked through. The Mudslide was much the same, although it seemed to have a center entirely made up of melted chocolate (the picture below reminds me of Orwasher’s jelly donut, in terms of level of filling). Perhaps because of this, the cookie itself seemed more pliable than the Chocolate Chip. In both cases, the melted quality of the chocolate made for a pretty messy eating experience — cue gobs all over my fingers and chin. These cookies are not intended for dainty eating.

The Mudslide -- once opened, the center of the cookie basically collapsed into a pool of chocolate fudge.

The Mudslide — once opened, the center of the cookie basically collapsed into a pool of chocolate fudge.

 

The Verdict:

To be honest, I was pretty disappointed with JTC’s Chocolate Chip cookie. While the chocolate used in the cookie was of a noticeably high quality, I found the cookie itself to be subpar. The dough was one-note, with the flavor of butter overwhelming everything else. Where were the caramelly notes of brown sugar? Where was the freaking vanilla? There was no subtlety to the cookie, and I found myself equating it to the slice-and-bake Mrs. Field’s cookies that they used to sell for a buck at the school store in junior high. It’s not that I mind a solid Mrs. Field’s cookie, but if you’re going to assert that your cookies are gourmet quality, you better be a step up from Le Tollhouse. While the texture of the Chocolate Chip cookie was more my style than City Bakery, ultimately I’d rank CB’s chocolate chip over JTC due to the dough.


I’m starting to see a real pattern in the Cookie Crawl — I tend to like the “alternate” cookie way more than the standard Chocolate Chip. This happened again at JTC, where I thought the Mudslide was far superior in all categories. Maybe it was because the chocolate was the star of the show. The Mudslide was basically a chocolate bomb in your mouth — bittersweet chocolate chips (well, molten fudge really) mixed with unsweetened cocoa powder and more chopped up bittersweet chocolate. The simplicity of the cookie is what makes it so successful — considering Jacques Torres is Mr. Chocolate, it’s unsurprising that his back-to-basics chocolate cookie would be the one to shine.

Overall, Levain keeps the top ranking by a wide margin. City Bakery was a solid cookie, but I’d rather try some of their other offerings, and Jacques Torres limps in at a far third. I did really enjoy the chocolate within the cookies, which makes me want to taste the bon bons and the variety of hot chocolates. But it looks like the traditional bakeries have the edge right now — Mr. Chocolate should stick to his gourmet confectioning, and leave the sugar creaming and dough baking to the cookie professionals.

Jacques Torres Chocolate
285 Amsterdam Ave (between 73rd and 74th)
http://www.mrchocolate.com

The Grand Cookie Crawl: Levain Bakery

Outside Levain

I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t have a Thanksgiving/food/family related post this week, with the big Turkey day coming up. But in the meantime I wanted to share a quick recap of my recent trip to Levain Bakery on the Upper West Side. It’s part of my epic, never to be finished cookie crawl through NYC. In a vain attempt to set parameters, I’ve made the top priority chocolate chip cookies, but my foodie cohort Jacob and I have already amassed a list of about 15 bakeries we need to explore. Heaven forbid I ever expand beyond the 5 boroughs.

Levain was actually the second stop on our informal cookie tour. Last week I went to City Bakery, but being a much better eater than blogger, I immediately stuffed the cookies in my face without taking a single photo. To provide contrast to my Levain experience, here’s a quick recap:

City Bakery in the Flatiron District is more like a snack bar/cafeteria, with sandwiches, soups, salads, etc. to go along with their desserts. It’s a fairly spacious place when you walk in, with seating on two floors and a main ordering station in the center. The cookies are situated under heat lamps near the register. Jacob and I tried the regular chocolate chip (they also offer a vegan one), and the double chocolate cookie. Both are palm-sized, thin and crispy cookies with a good bend upon breaking. The chocolate chip was solid, with strong vanilla and cinnamon notes, but the winner of the day was the double chocolate, which was rich without being overbearing, and skirted the line between dark chocolate and milk. They were both solid contenders, and I’d definitely recommend City Bakery to someone who prefers a chewier cookie.

Now Levain is a different beast altogether.  The bakery is a bit of a NY institution — its goods have been declared among the city’s best by countless websites and magazines, from Time Out NY to Daily Candy, to New York Magazine, to my personal fave, Serious Eats. Not to mention the fact that multiple close friends had raved to me about the cookies as being “life-changing.” So clearly I had to get my butt over there.

 

First Impressions:

I was surprised at how tiny Levain is. It’s basically a hole-in-the-wall storefront with the space devoted almost exclusively to the actual baking operation (good sign — these people take their baking seriously). You walk down a quick flight of steep stairs and cram into a tiny space to order from their very limited menu. Levain makes 4 types of cookies, a couple of rotating scones, and a handful of sandwiches and bread loaves. There are a few seats at a high counter by the window, but the crowd of people made it impossible to linger when Jacob and I were there.

From my perch at the top of the stairs, I tried to pick out which cookies I should sample (pro tip: bring a friend with you to avoid the shame of buying two cookies by yourself). I thought at first that the display was full of scones, but was quickly corrected — those, my friend, were the cookies. Holy moley.

The Cookies:

Since my main criteria for the cookie crawl is the noble chocolate chip, I of course had to get Levain’s signature Chocolate Chip Walnut. To mix it up, we also picked the Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter, leaving the Dark Chocolate Chip and the Oatmeal Raisin for another day. The cookies we were given were warm, and seemed to be fresh out of the oven. A quick sniff from the bag overwhelmed my nose with buttery, chocolatey aromas. This was gonna be good.

I’ve included a picture of Jacob’s fist next to a cookie to give a sense of scale. These things were massive, and heavy. There was a real heft to each one, and again I was reminded of scone more than anything else from the crispy outside. But thankfully, these cookies were far from the dry, crumbly scones at your local Starbucks. Once split apart, it was clear that Levain bakes each cookie fresh — the insides were warm and doughy, just underbaked so the chocolate chips liquified. The same was true of the dark chocolate peanut butter cookie, creating the effect of melted peanut butter swirled through the dough.

 

The Verdict:

Oh man, everyone was so, so right. I’m not usually a nuts-in-baked-goods person, and walnuts are my least favorite of the bunch, but I would eat Levain’s signature cookie for a living. It was my perfect consistency — a little crunch on the outside, but reminiscent of cookie dough on the inside, as opposed to the chewy, but fully baked cookies from City Bakery. And my god, you could pretty much taste the sticks of butter in these. Gooey, sweet but not overpoweringly so, I am totally a Levain convert now.

The high quality of the ingredients was especially clear in the dark chocolate peanut butter cookie. I think that the peanut butter/chocolate combo can often be spoiled by cheap peanut butter than tastes artificial and waxy, detracting from the chocolate rather than enhancing it. But Levain uses the best peanut butter chips I have ever tasted, hands down. It was such a rich, strong peanut taste, it was more like they somehow made baking chips out of the best natural peanut butter on the market. I was blown away by that aspect more than the dark chocolate base.

Now obviously these cookies are pretty monstrous, and once you’re done, there’s a small sugary pit that forms in your stomach, so if you’re looking for a light snack, don’t go to Levain. But if you’re a baker, cookie connoisseur, or just on the hunt for a damn fine dessert, check it out. Levain takes the top spot on the cookie crawl rankings, silly as that may be since there are only two so far. But it’s interesting to already see the distinctions in the types of cookies — can you even really compare City Bakery and Levain since they’re striving for such different consistencies? I guess I’ll just have to keep trying new cookies and see if the wider sample set reveals any trends. What a burden.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Hope you have plenty of turkey, joy, and of course desserts awaiting you on Thursday!

 
City Bakery 
3 West 18th Street  New York, NY 10011
http://www.thecitybakery.com/

Levain Bakery
167 West 74th Street  New York, NY 10023
www.levainbakery.com/