When I was growing up we lived near an Italian bakery - actually, near like 10 Italian bakeries, it was Jersey after all - but this one had a whole selection of miniature Italian parties - not just a couple of cannoli and Napoleans, no sir, a full bakery case of different pasties. They. Were. Awesome. Beyond words. I miss them.
Where I live now the natives (some of them anyway) seem to think the bakeries in grocery stores are the same thing - it took quite some time to convince my native DH that this may be a cookie, but it is not a
Bakery Cookie unless it comes from a bakery that does not also sell lettuce. Preferably one that uses white boxes tied up with red and white string from a loop in the ceiling. He finally got it
