Carpe Danish

Yesterday was my turn to buy the pastries. Most departments employ the same system: on a designated weekday --ours is Tuesday--one member of the breakfast club brings in the food.

About a decade ago, when the nutrition police were ascendant, the choices were uniformly bland and gastronomically correct: low fat, high fiber bagels were the most frequent offering. When asked, people said that this fare is what they preferred, and the listening purveyors complied. But there were always leftovers at the end of the day.

It sounds paradoxical, but it seems that during the roaring Nineties we were very strict about our food choices, but at decade’s end everyone became more relaxed. For the past several years I’ve been going to Copenhagen Bakery in Burlingame. Their hot, buttered, flaky croissants and Danish are not overly large---they’re slightly larger than a CD—so people don’t feel guilty about taking one. The disciplined grab a knife and only take half a piece, but most come back for the other half within ten minutes. I bought two dozen for 16 people, and everything was gone by 11 o’clock.


If you want healthier fare, mounds of fresh vegetables are available in Chinatown shops, much cheaper than the Farmer's Market outside the Ferry Building.