The Sweetest Bite

There are two croissants left at Gjusta Bakery and I’m last in line. With five people in front of me, it’s entirely possible that I might not stand a chance at nabbing one of the flaky, golden beauties.

They look heavenly, bathing side by side in the late morning light —caramel color with a light sheen. I wait patiently in line, eagerly eavesdropping on every order. “Do you want a croissant Zoe?” I hear, as a father-daughter duo steps up to the counter. “I guess,” she answers, as she checks her Snapchat feed and strolls away. I guess? Unbelievable. She obviously couldn't care less what she eats, wouldn’t she rather have a cinnamon bun? With one croissant left, I frantically search the metal bakery racks behind the counter for more. It’s Sunday, surely they’ve made another batch? I’m not in denial about the last one vanishing before my eyes, but I don’t have a second choice and I’ve got my heart set on a croissant. I can already taste it.

I’ve recently moved to L.A. from my native San Francisco Bay Area, so finding solace in pastries and the places that bake them, help keep me in my comfort zone.

Bakeries have always felt very maternal to me, and since losing my mom and then selling my childhood home, I find myself seeking them out now more than ever. Bakeries and cafés are typically warm and welcoming, with an interesting cast of characters, cool wall art, and a big pot of coffee brewing. I think I love them so much because they make me feel taken care of — like being home.

I miss my mom's kitchen. I miss sitting at the square wooden table she covered with royal blue, French oilcloth from her favorite fabric store in Berkeley, while she made perfect fried eggs on a foggy summer morning. I miss drinking afternoon tea and noshing on homemade ginger cookies that I baked at her request because they’re her favorite. I miss having a glass of wine with an open cookbook in my lap, reciting excerpts from the recipe she’s making for dinner. I miss telling her about my day while we cook together. Most of all, I miss just being with her in the kitchen, and how it makes me feel — like being wrapped in a giant hug that will never end. And then one day, it does end.

And so here I am, navigating the unfamiliar in search of finding something warm — waiting in line at my new favorite bakery in Venice. I’m next up and there’s still one croissant left, sitting solo on the wooden cutting board in all its glory. Hurray, it’s mine! I can’t wait — I tenderly tear off a corner and take a bite while I walk it back to my table with my coffee and a copy of the Sunday paper. I’ve found a sweet slice of heaven in a small corner of Venice, and although it’s not my mom’s kitchen, I know she’d love this place as much as I do, and this thought alone, makes my soul smile.

Photos by Shanti Nelson: (Top) Heavenly croissants at Gjusta in Venice, one of my favorite places.

I did in fact have a second choice — cardamom coffee cake...and it was delicious!

I still have yet to taste these, it's always a challenge to decide what to order at Gjusta, I'm not sure you could go wrong with anything they make!

An endless case of the most wonderful sweet delights, where to start?