I started a local site for Watertown, which gave me an excuse to get out to the Danish Pastry House earlier today. Here's what I wrote up for the h2otown.info site:
Ever since Iggy's Breads decamped for its new Cambridge HQ, H2otown has been curious about what would fill its former location in what has to be one of the most interesting collections of businesses under one roof in town.
H2otown braved the frigid weather to bike down to 205 Arlington Street to visit the new and enticingly named Danish Pastry House, along with Mini-H2otown and Micro H2otown as apprentice taste-testers, ferried in their own luxury tot-trailer.
Both kids were deeply impressed, nay, awed at the sheer multiplicity of treats piled appealingly on trays behind the counter and at pies and breads stacked on open racks near the back of the store.
I myself was impressed at the large urns of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Stacked alongside were glass quart bottles - bring yours back for a refill and the price drops from $9.50 to $7.50.
Mini-H2otown selected a sandwich cookie, a sort of Uber-Oreo created with two delicate macaroons mortared together with chocolate ganache and then dipped half in chocolate. Verdict: "Can I have another one?" Micro-H2otown was treated to the store's namesake, a danish filled with custard cream.
Now, most of us are used to the kind of danish that is merely a way to cover the bottom of a tray between some uninspired lemon poppyseed muffins and some ersatz bagels. They look, and experience tells us they are, in fact, made of hard brittle layers of the same library paste some of us ate as kids.
This is not that kind of danish.
Mine was so tender I could have folded it in quarters without breaking it. The pastry was glossy and tasted of browned butter. They weren't mailing it in on the custard cream, either: it was creamy, not stiff, and had a strong taste of vanilla.
Micro-H2otown's verdict: ate it all and licked his fingers.