Pie Spy - Freeport Bakery and the Knish Delish

One of Pie Spy’s favorite places in the whole Sacramento Valley is Freeport Bakery at 2966 Freeport Boulevard (www.freeportbakery.com). We here at SacPie are not so into “cute” as a lifestyle choice, so that’s not why we love Freeport Bakery (although you could not ask for a more charming bakery storefront). We love it because their commitment to excellence is evident everywhere you look, and in every bite. We love it because it is a place where you can not only buy delicious things to eat but you can sit down and eat them, with real plates, knives, and forks, and enjoy a good cup of coffee too. We love it because it has clearly and deservedly become a mainstay of its neighborhood. We love it because it is a short walk from our house. Of course, we love it for the beautifully made, proudly displayed, and extravagant pies on offer. We will get to the pies soon.

But they really hooked us with the knishes.

Freeport Bakery’s take on vegetable knishes is a total departure from anything you may have previously consumed that called itself knish. The conventional deli knish we have experienced only comes in one variety – potato. PieSpy has scoped them in local deli cases - brownish bricks that look like square corn dogs – the kind you’re supposed to dip in mustard. They've been frozen too long, and maybe thawed out too soon. They aren’t appetizing to look at, and feel pretty much like bricks once they are ingested.

Scan the web for knish data and you will find recipes for fish, pastrami, cheese, chicken, and other hearty fillings, surrounded by dough made with chicken fat, or with puff pastry, Kosher, not Kosher, and on and on. Many of these seem beyond substantial and into ‘dense.’ Never having had the experience of knishes in a genuine New York Jewish deli, I cannot say what makes a store-bought knish authentic (although a tiny voice inside tells me the brown bricks are NOT). And never having had a Jewish grandmother, I have no experience of home-made knishes either.

Anyone out there making their own knishes at home?

At Freeport Bakery, if you ask for the knish, what you will receive is a glorious, ethereal, miniature self-contained vegetable pie on a small china plate. You will not see them in the bakery cases, but usually one is displayed on the counter to the left of the entry door. They cost about $3.95 each. Just ask. Your odds of success will be higher if you get there earlier in the day.

I have not inquired as to whether these knishes are kosher, but I'm sure someone at the counter can let you know, if you are interested.

You can re-heat them for a minute or so in the Bakery’s microwave, and then enjoy them hot right there. I have tried many times to get the temperature just right with their 1980's-era nuker, but the filling becomes either scalding hot or remains too cold, and you don't want to ruin that beautiful pastry crust. Maybe you will have better luck if you can take a few home with you cold, and heat them up later in a 300-degree oven. Be advised, though, even your best mustard would be an insult on this gorgeous little pie. It needs no extras.

The crust is both decorative and appetizing; firm enough to hold the insides in, but light and buttery. A little cutout leaf or nut made of dough adorns the egg-glazed top. The knish has the look and aroma of a fancy French savory pie. About 3 inches in diameter, it is best enjoyed, and deserves to be enjoyed, on a plate and eaten with a fork. This knish is flaky and too civilized to be eaten while you are driving or – you know who you are – standing over the kitchen sink.

Inside, the knish is filled with an aromatic combination of mashed and finely minced vegetables – potatoes as well as carrots, mushrooms, broccoli, onion (or perhaps leek), and a delicate array of herbs. The filling is velvety yet all the ingredients are identifiable. On the plate, the knish may look small, but it eats big. One knish can be a satisfying breakfast or lunch for one person – decadent, but with vegetables.

Freeport Bakery’s knish will make you want to throw rocks at other knishes commonly on offer in stores. They are so satisfying that you may say, “to hell with baking knishes myself!” If so, make sure you get to Freeport Bakery before I do. Or call ahead and request a special order.

Pie Spy - Fat Apple's Restaurant & Bakery

A road trip to Berkelely on the last Friday of January necessitated some Pie Spying.

In San Francisco Magazine's January issue, we had read a short blurb about Fat Apple's. Fat Apple's is a breakfast-lunch spot - actually two spots: the home location at 7525 Fairmount Avenue in El Cerrito, and 1346 Martin Luther King, Jr. Way in Berkeley. They have a range of salad, soup, sandwiches, and hot entrees, but what really hooks us is the full bakery case. Fat Apple's makes scones, cookies, pastries, cakes, and you-know-what, under the masterful watch of Hildegard Marshall, the founder and owner.

At the Fairmount Avenue location, the skylit, barrel-vaulted interior (a former grocery store, our hostess told us) is dominated by a very large, square oven situated in the very middle of the building. The oven is probably close to 15 feet on each side. Our hostess explained that this oven runs 24-7 during the holidays, when the place pumps out pies non-stop (especially pumpkin). Although it was well past the peak of lunch hour (and traditional bakers' hours) when we visited, there were still at least a dozen workers visibly hustling around the place. By the way, pie crusts are made with butter, and also with love and skill.

There is a diner counter and tables for 80 or so people. Reproductions of Wayne Thiebaud pictures, as well as other, temporary exhibits by artists, adorn the walls.

Fat Apple's most widely acclaimed favorite pie is the ollalieberry, shown below:

You can choose from several flavors of pie, if ollalieberry is not what you came for. There was a slice of lofty lemon meringue going by as we ordered lunch. The chocolate creme pie looked as dense and dark as chocolate mousse. The apple pie was puffed up, and my imagination ran wild. Just for the sake of research, we ordered a slice of the cherry pie after a filling lunch of spinach salad and a portobello mushroom sandwich (both pretty good).

Pie by the slice is $4.25. You could purchase a whole fruit pie there for $17.00 (and be very happy).

The pie slice comes unadorned with whip or ice cream. Which is good, because usually I forget to request that these be deleted. Despite the neon-red color of the filling, I could tell this was no institutional pie. The cherries were tart, firm, and still individually imbued with flavor. The red matrix in which they floated was pleasantly sweet and a little bit thick, but never gooey, chemical, or dominating. It was definitely more cherries than red gel. I could tell that the crust had been made with butter because of the distinct flavor note as well as the flaky, light texture as I broke it - in my delicate way - with the fork. I had to increase the shutter speed on my camera, because this piece was of the stealthy, now-you-see-it-now-you-don't variety. It disappeared in what seems like a flash!

The finishing touch to our Fat Apple's experience was the receipt. Pie Spy finds wisdom in unexpected places. Be sure to read below the bottom line. That's what I'm talking about.