A Taste of Eden cheese Danish

a-taste-of-eden-danish.jpg“Why have we stopped here, young Thurmanthe Generalissimo asked.

“Here” was the Puyallup Farmer’s Market. And we’d stopped because the Generalissimo once again forgot his counterpart’s birthday, and was in need of some fresh flowers to rectify the situation. Of course he’d forgotten that, too.

While I went through the fresh tulips, searching for a nice dozen to get her, the Generalissimo wandered off. I didn’t bother trying to keep track o him; I’d hear the screams of young children soon enough. Or so I thought.

“Young Thurman! Come quick! I have found a situation that requires immediate dispensation!”

“Crap.” I put the flowers back, gave the man at the booth my humblest apologies, and followed the sunglassed avenger of righteousness inside the pavilion.

“Here!” he said. I followed his pointed finger to a small display near the west wall selling bread products. He forced his way to the front of the line, knocking over untold civilians in his haste. “Excuse me, fine citizens! I must ask your acquiescence in this matter! At once!” He thrust a finger at the display case. “Two cheese Danishes, fine sir! To go!”

“You dragged me over here for Danishes? Are you nuts?”

“Four out of five dentists say yes!”

A Taste of Eden Bakeries out of Rochester, Washington, makes artisan breads and assorted baked goods, including a cheese Danish. I’ve definitely had better, but I’ve also had much worse. The bread was excellent, lacking just a bit of moisture to be a solid A in my book. This may have been caused by our late arrival to the farmer’s market, and the warm, dry day. Earlier in the morning, and they might have been better. The frosting was good. Not great, but good. Same with the filling, which came in a generous dollop that I approved of.

The one problem that seemed to permeate this effort was flavor: it had very little. The filling had a slight tartness, but not enough. No lemon that I detected. No special spice to entice me to have another. No flair, given freely by the baker as a sign of his or her expertise. A culinary signature that labeled the Danish as theirs and theirs alone.

I don’t want you to think I disliked this Danish; far from it. It was a solid Danish by any measurement. But when one is searching for the best of the best, one continues looking after a Danish such as this.

Good enough for most folks, but not enough to take the crown.


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