Mommy: What you mean "real?" The other ones fake? You make me fake egg tarts?
Me: No - I mean, these ones are from a bakery, from bakers who know how to make them.
Mommy: You know what Mommy think? Better you make food instead of buy it. Food you make at home, even though it bad, always good, always good for you heart, for my heart, even if tastes bad. Can't do that with food you bought. You know what I mean?
Truer words Mommy, truer words.
I've been in a slump lately because of my constant baking blunders (oooooo, illiterATION!), but when Mommy said that, I remembered why I loved to cook, and why I did it a lot more than actual eating. Because for some cooking is just a job, and for some, like Mommy, it's a way of life. I never really tried to understand why I liked cooking, because I didn't want to; just knowing I liked it was good enough, no justification necessary. With that said, I know there are days when being given a meal can mean the world and more, or less to a person, depending on the circumstance, depending on the cook, and the epicurean. I've cooked for a lot of people. And I hope some day soon I run into the person who was just waiting for me to cook for them, if you catch my meaning.
I'd almost be compelled to have a go at baking that damned lemon meringues again if I hadn't ventured out into the world and stuffed my face full of sugar and Korean soft drinks for the simple fact that I needed some kind of constant high, especially on a Friday night; but, I'm glad I did it. What I'm not too happy about is that the closest new thing to a patisserie around these parts is nothing more than another baking franchise. Not that K-W had any patisseries in the last, I dunno, 30 years. Or ever, for that matter. I may find one, I may not.
Nova Era, from what I've been told, is a Portuguese "patisserie" or closest thing to it in these here parts, running with a gamut of pastries from meringues (oh, yes), to cannolis (oddly enough), eclairs, and that ever popular Portuguese dessert: the custard. Though the selection may seem vast, you may be hard pressed to find ingredients differing from pastry to pastry, Portuguese enjoy the staple of the beaten egg and sugar - if they can shape it into any kind of dessert, you better believe it'll happen as much as possible. But every culture has its generic ingredient right? Sure. Thai has its coconut and fish sauce, but when everything generally tastes the same, the same being overtly sugary, why bother getting anything else? Except, of course, for the odd eclair. I'll say this, and I'm positive I'll say it later on, appearance should never be a substitute for a food's taste and quality, which may be why I visit hole-in-the-wall joints without any hesitation or prejudice. In fact, a poor atmosphere just may be an excellent indicator of home food. Fancy decor is only something "chefs" really care about, and sexy people, and the people who want to have sex with the sexy people, hence their taking them to sexy places, those sexy places acting as a type of propaganda for the unsexy person, who's trying to validate their unsexiness with some kind of external, projected sexiness in hopes that the sexy person won't catch on, and that they'll get to have sex with them. Are you following me? Never judge a book by it's cover. Or, at least do, but at least have the decency to read it and see if it was really worth the look in the first place. Or if you're totally into shallow things, then hey, there is a myriad of shitty restaurants in the world. Try Toronto - they're everywhere. I for one love spending 63 dollars on an entre of asparagus on a bed of pâté tuna. Totally.
But, Era Nova isn't so bad. It's new, it's clean, it's not done up. It has no hint of offensive European bakery decor - yet. Nor does it have any signs -yet- to tell you just what it is you can order or can eat. it's new. Luckily, I googled it before I went, so I knew what I was getting into, but dually disappointed when I found out it was a chain, meaning things are probably, like any fancy "cafe," shipped in, pre-baked, kept for a couple days, thrown out, etcetera. I recall my friend's remark that the place was very "yellow and brown." At least it matched the motif of eggs and baked goods. It was also very warm, which I appreciated. It was also located down the street from the Hong Kong Plaza, which I also appreciated. What I didn't appreciate, was its small tables. Maybe it's a European thing, like the small clothes we/I am/are stereotyped to wear, crossing our legs and sipping espressos, one of which I do all the time; I won't say which one.
It was tough choosing what exactly to buy, it all looked so good, and I of course didn't want to get it all right away. What if I wanted to come back? Eating should always be a new adventure, unless, of course, you needed some kind of familiarity, which I did not. Not in this case. Luckily, the kids the place had working there (the young teenagers) knew what everything was, and what they were talking about. I was gitty with excitement, that someone serving me food knew about food and wanted to tell me about it. I must have asked questions for a solid ten minutes. They enjoyed it, I know they did.
I opted for a piece of meringue; that is, a whole cake that was just meringue, coated with a thin yolk frosting (which I didn't even know was possible), and a pastry that resembled some magical sandwhich, with flaky puff pastry for the bread, and even more meringue for the inside. Can you guess the night's theme? Of course you can, I already told you about it before. And if that wasn't enough - sugar, I mean - I humbly asked for some carbonated Guarana juice from Brasil. Yeah. I can honestly say, it was the most satisfying thing at my table.We took our seats and were brought what we ordered, along with some glasses and the smallest forks I've ever set eyes on, which seemed remarkably decadent and wonderful, but turned out remarkably inconvenient (still very impressive) because my magic sandwhich, called a russos, wasn't very magical at all. In fact, it was so hard to break (I would have liked to use the word "flaked" here) with a fork, the flaky pastry part becoming rather chewy and solidified probably because of the meringue, and the meringue, instead of light and fluffy, maintaining a gummy consistency, that one of the staff offered to bring me a knife. That was nice of her. The mess I left on the table was not. The only flavour I could recall from the pastry itself was "sweetness" with a hint of cinnamon. It was so uninteresting I found myself rushing to finish it so I could start on the meringue. And I got there, and I got somewhat disappointed.
First, let me say, the meringue had a decent texture, I had assumed, after eating that first meringue that this one wouldn't be any better. But it was alright, somewhat heavy in its texture, but still feeling like a meringue should. Maybe it was a bad day. And it certainly was sweet. Too sweet quite frankly, for as much as I liked sweet things, drowning the actual piece of meringue in a caramel sauce only made it unbareably difficult to eat. So much so I found myself mashing the whole thing into a kind of porridge. Too sweet. But that wasn't my main issue; my main issue was that the person who served me the cake in the first place asked me to have at this particular meringue instead of the whole one in front of the display window, for whatever lazy reason. Well, I cordially obliged. Polite yes. Bad decision, maybe. I didn't taste the other meringue after all. But the fact that there was little of this meringue left may have hinted at its age. I gave it the benefit of the doubt. How old could it have been?
Well, don't get me wrong, but when a meringe has a hint of a fishy taste, that just might imply that it's been around for a while. Longer than its bretheren. Obviously that fishy flavour was the egg. Still, the only thing about the meringue that really won me over was its texture, and even that wasn't very much; that and its price. Which may be Era Nova's saving grace. It has fabulous prices. Most places around fathead Kitchener-Waterloo, catoring to pastry, cakes, deserts - whatever - charge a decadent for what one gets. But my bill was only around 5 dollars, and considering how "satisfied" I was by the end, I'd say that, especially for something franchised, it was a pretty good deal. Take it from me; someone who's grandfather was purported to own the first bakery in the K-W region, and who has eaten alot of cakes at cake like establishments, Nova Era certainly takes the cake (mmmmm, cake); and its pricing certainly warrants a return to the joint. Its menu is rather extensive after all. It sells salads, and panninnis, and americanos, and canadianos (oh yes, they're real). Whether they're good or not, I've yet to find out, but for its prices, I think I'll give it another go. I'm a sucker for custards anyway, and diabetic comas apparently.
Nova Era Bakery Inc.
376 King St. E.,
Kitchener
Ontario, Canada
519.578.0513
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment