downtown dolce

I've been jonesing for sweets. I needed the kind of comfort that Sara Lee used to provide. These days, I like to think that my taste is a little more refined, so a fresh-frozen iced chocolate cake or strawberry cheesecake doesn't cut it anymore. There are tons of ethnic bakeries in downtown Los Angeles. I can get conchas, all sparkly with their crunchy sugar coats, or sweet potato empanadas from the panaderia around the corner. If I poke around in the Jewelry District, I can find trays of baklava, dripping with honey. There are at least four cafes that I can walk to for biscotti. And I usually have no problem walking to any Little Tokyo confectionery when I want a piece of velvety daifuku (sticky rice surrounding sweet bean paste and rolled in kinako, sweet soy powder), or namagashi (baked "bun" filled with sweetened azuki bean paste. But I wanted Viennese pastries, cannoli siciliani, cupcakes, eclairs, and cakes with buttercream frosting. And I didn't want to drive.

Last week I passed by Grand Central Market on the way back home from purchasing candles at the botanica. I knew my taco stand was operational again after that horrible kitchen fire, so I ran in to get a lengua burrito on the way to I forget where and why, but I was running late. Then I saw it. Tiramisu. Beside it was a row of dark chocolate cappucino cakes, beckoning me with dark and milk chocolate swirls of frosting. But I couldn't stop, I was already running late. So like MacArthur, I returned, intent on consuming enough baked goods to put me into a sugar coma.

Blanca was behind the counter at the House of Sweets (Casa de Dulces - D4), smack dab in the middle of Grand Central Market. Either she's a great salesperson or I was just in the mood to gorge myself on sweets. Despite craving traditional bakery fare, I loaded up on baklava ($6 for a generous trayful!), tres leches cake, dark chocolate cappucino cake, and tiramisu. They're all gone now. I am embarrassed to say that I devoured these in one sitting, all by myself.

I took advantage of the sugar high and cleaned up a little around the penthouse. And by a little, I mean i threw out two huge garbage bags full of stuff, filed away 60+ CDs and did two loads of laundry. That might not sound like much to you, but I own more clothes than most boutiques keep in stock, more reading material than anyone but Evelyn Wood could get through, and I have (I kid you not) thousands of CDs in my bedroom (not in any semblance of order). That reminds me, I need a better filing system. Back to topic: After that burst of energy I came crashing down from the sugar high and was out of it for several hours. I was coaxed out of it only by a late dinner invitation to Versailles for some yummy Cuban food.

I need to join a gym.