Words & Photo by Josselin Bassaldu
josselin@submergemag.com

Sick of hearing about New Year’s resolutions? Diets, no-no foods, healthy eating and how to keep that personal weight-loss pledge? Great. Me too.

It seems appropriate then, to talk about tarts. No, not acidic and sour foods. Sweet, fresh, creamy and crunchy fruit tarts! And it’s all IKEA’s fault.

The beginning of anything usually makes for a good starting point for projects, goals and changes. The start of summer, the first day of school, a new job and birthdays are all examples of such change-for-the-better initiators. But the New Year is the ultimate make-a-change marker. Even if you don’t make resolutions, you’ve probably noticed small changes in your behavior that indicate an instinctual human hope for happiness in the future.

Being a human filled with hope for happiness, I set out to organize my living space. The obvious destination was our local IKEA in West Sacramento.

Having only visited IKEA a handful of times, I had memories of semi-expensive, DIY furniture and décor, dispersed throughout a maze-like multi-level floor plan. Visits consisted of not finding what I was looking for and being mesmerized by unneeded wall/counter/kitchen trinkets.

This Jan. 4 visit was different. I came for furniture, but I wanted to conquer food. Sure the oft-Internet-raved-about prepared café and food court dishes are well-known enough, but I’m not sure I trusted them. It was the imported goods and packaged items that commanded my culinary attention.

I entered IKEA at 7:45 p.m. in search of a dresser, but I was distracted by dessert. The good news is that I made it out with the dresser of my choice. The great news is that I was inspired to concoct my own Swedish sweets. Since I’d just seen a newer episode of Diners, Drive-ins & Dives featuring Scandinavian cuisine one recent late night, I’d had a Swedish craving to satiate.

The mouthwatering mini fruit tart at Ettore’s Bakery (2376 Fair Oaks Boulevard) is a special dessert that I closely associate with some of my favorite Sacramento moments and loved ones. But those little suckers usually sell out before I can snag one post-supper. I knew when I grabbed a jar of orange-elderflower preserves (Sylt Flader & Apelsin) for $3.99 and a box of orange flavored thins (galletas sabor Naranja) for 99 cents, that they’d be integral ingredients for my own version of my sentimental Sacramento sweet. Pastry cream, chocolate and fresh fruit was all that was needed to complete one tasty tart.

After I enlisted fellow food fiend and word-friendly pal Pippa, we pooled ingredient resources and resolved to make mini fruit tarts from scratch. It was a first for both of us.

A basic graham cracker crust recipe, using the toasty orange cookies crushed in a food processor, served as the base of our tarts.

The Web proved the most user-friendly recipe finder once again, and Joyofbaking.com provided a simple and straightforward pastry cream filling recipe for fruit tarts. Basics like flour, sugar, milk, egg yolks and cornstarch were blended with split vanilla bean as specified.

We spread a thin layer of melted chocolate over tart crusts to seal the crust and prevent the pastry cream or fruit from making them soggy. I piped some of the cooled pastry cream onto each little crust, and Pippa and I artfully arranged raspberries, blueberries and Anjou pears atop our little tarts. To seal the tart deal, melted Swedish preserves and Disaronno amaretto were brushed over the top to add flavor, make the fruit shiny and gel the ingredients together.

The final product didn’t turn out as refined-looking as we’d hoped (Ettore’s still takes the tart), but the flavors of orange, honey-like elderflower, nutty Disaronno, vanilla, fresh berries and pears were a sophisticated symphony of sweet. And we were sure to share them.
Getting feedback from other tasters can offer insight on palate-pleasing flavors and how to improve preparation of a dish. One wonderfully opinionated taster told me it was delicious, but didn’t taste tart.

This common misconception of the title being the same as the taste led me to find a research-backed definition of why this sweet dessert was called a tart. According to Merriam-Webster Online, dating back to the 14th Century, a tart is any dish (sweet or savory, but not tart) baked in a pastry shell.

Variations on this recipe were easy and exciting. On a second run, I made a large fruit tart with several modifications. I added cappuccino-flavored thin cookies (also from IKEA) to the crust, and used aluminum foil in a pie tin for easy fruit tart removal (not everyone has a spring-form pan lying around). Both Bartlett and Anjou pears were used, along with bananas and blueberries, because they were available at the market for reasonable prices. In the glaze, I used more Disaronno, let the mixture slightly caramelize and was careful to avoid catching pieces of orange rind from the marmalade when brushing the fruit to set.

Moral of the story? Pay attention to food found in unexpected spots—like a foreign furniture store. And positive change (even culinary) can happen any time and doesn’t have to be considered a resolution. But suit yourself while I satisfy my sweet tooth with some fruit tart.

Ten22
1022 2nd Street, Old Sacramento
Words & Photo by Josselin Bassaldu

It seems as though restaurateur Terry Harvego has given the Firehouse Restaurant a brother, nurtured to life just a block away. It’s a well-equipped younger sibling, ready to follow in its big bro’s popular footsteps.

Ten22 was slated to open on the 22nd of the 10th month, but arrived post-mature (three-plus weeks after due date) to 1022 Second Street in Old Sacramento on Nov. 13.

This restaurant had intention from conception. It aspired to be one to “Eat, Drink, and Relax” in and was nicknamed thus on its nametag. And I indeed found myself eating, drinking and trying to relax in Ten22 on Thanksgiving Eve.

The open, almost-chic, barn-like space made dining feel grounded and like all the air might collect at the top, the way the mass of a button mushroom gathers at the head. There was a country-ish openness to the structure that was accented by the multiple large-windowed doors on the building’s edifice.

Something was familiar about this environmental sensation. I realized after visiting the wooded, lit bathroom that the feeling was similar to that evoked by restaurants in South Lake Tahoe—the shiny wood, the wide ceiling space and crowded base, the “adventurous” menu and the earth-toned décor. It invited diners who’d enjoy South Lake Tahoe to enjoy it right here, in little old Sacramento.

The menu is suited for group grubbing with “shared plates” and family eating with kid-friendly dishes such as mini corn dogs and Rice Krispie-dusted salmon. The hungry, unaccompanied eater can be sated with an herb roasted half chicken; those lighter eaters have their choice of single portions like one pork slider.

Being with friends, I opted to share. We split three ways plates of Dungeness crab tater tots, brandy marinated beef skewers and the assorted bruschetta.

Crusty, doughy Bella Bru bread was a nice precursor to our sharing. But olive oil and vinegar sloshed easily over the top of the filled-to-the-brim, shell-shaped plate, making a mess of our table, napkins and clothes. Good intention, poor execution. Happens to the best.

It was like one, two, three as the shared plates arrived. Brandy marinated beef skewers ($8.95) were undoubtedly delish and the table favorite. Eight long, thin wooden skewers each lollipopped a small slice of yummy yum beef, served on a small hill of maple mashed sweet potatoes. The beef was tender, so sweet teriyaki-ed and flavorful with a grill-charred crunch. The potatoes were smoky and smooth. The menu said there was supposed to be a pomegranate-soy dipping sauce, but this was M.I.A. for us.

Next, we sampled the assorted bruschetta ($10.95). The six olive oil-crisped crostini came in flavor pairs: two salmon on crème fraiche with dill, two with pulled pork and two with olive and tomato tapenade. With toppling piles of salmon and pulled pork on nearly iPhone-sized crostini, this dish was satisfying with agreeable size and flavor. The salmon seemed poached and wasn’t over or under seasoned. The pulled pork was legit. Nearly too tender and sweet, smoky with a creeping spice that smacked the back of the tongue like an obvious afterthought, it tasted pleasantly just like peppered teriyaki beef jerky (kind of comical, no?). The tapenade consisted of Kalamata olives, black olives, tomatoes and seemingly red bell pepper and was salty as expected.

Tater tots of any kind excite many a persons’ palate. And as an adult, crab tater tots seem divine. The Dungeness crab tater tots were served with pineapple and a spiced chili “glaze.” Unfortunately, the crunch and flavor of these frutti del mare were feeble and dull. Sure, you don’t want to out-spice the delicate flavor of crab, but the combination of sesame seed, mustard seed, spice and what seemed to be chervil was off. Pineapple, chili and crab may work, but not in this preparation. It didn’t taste bad, but perhaps not preferential for all.

Although Ten22 had a “selective priority,” as the bf said, concerning its attention to detail, it seemed as though details were well prioritized. I can do with an unstable table, a crammed dining area, cheap fabric or iffy booth positioning if it means fluted beer glasses, proper wine coolers, nice televisions, good service and palatable plates.

When making a new restaurant’s acquaintance, it’s important to not be too harsh or judgmental. (Remember when you were just a wee one, figuring out what was wrong or right, good or bad?) But you deserve it, Submerge-ists: the truth about whether or not a restaurant is a bad seed.

But like the mustard seeds waiting to be noticed in the crab tater tots, the lasting taste of Ten22 is unfamiliar; ergo, indecipherably good or bad. Trendy. Expectantly interesting. But perhaps comfortable.

I mean, Ten22 wasn’t conceived with the intent to outdo, shock, entertain or fancify food. With nicknames like “Eat,” “Drink” and “Relax,” what’s to be expected?

Shakespeare wrote in Romeo and Juliet, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” In the case of baby Ten22 it’s all about the name.

The Bread Store
1716 J Street, Sacramento
Words & Photo by Josselin Bassaldu

Driving east through Midtown, I was on my way. With my hair pulled up in a ponytail, a college sweatshirt on my back and a water bottle in my bag, I was determined to be prompt to photography class.

A long, late night of work and an early morning of class had the guttural depths of my belly begging for baked goodies. Luckily, I just “happened” to be driving in the lane nearest to The Bread Store and was able to pull over and appease the craving for a crunchy-topped bran raisin muffin. Prompt? Psssssht, I made like a Parisian and embraced a laissez-faire approach to time for a pastry.

Walking up to the cash register, I looked over and was enthralled with the beauty before me. Who knew a cold, bright morning would be the setting to one of “those” encounters?

Never expecting such a serendipitous situation, I made an acquaintance Nov. 5 that inspired me to share my story with my dear Submerge-ists.

Through the groggy beginning of one of those sleep-in-Saturdays, the wonderosity of oncoming winter winked from the center of the glass shielded display at visitors of The Bread Store, with the glistening golden of an icy, orange confection, never before seen.

The large, center-staged tray was filled with orange bread, the gentlemen behind the counter answered when customers inquired. Oh, but it wasn’t just some measly orange bread, it was Orange Cobblestone Bread with vanilla bean bourbon icing. A quick sample made me feel like a purchasing pushover; I decided I needed two goodies.

Orange has almost always been a flavoring that kids would choose only after the red flavor (cherry, strawberry) of candies, popsicles and gummi snacks were gone. And to me, orange has been a second-class flavor. This only slightly sweet orange bread was unique, causing me to consider the folly of my second-classifying ways.

For $2.25, the nearly inch-thick slice of Orange Cobblestone Bread was doughy, had a great crust and was topped with vanilla bean and bourbon icing. It was French bread-like, but doughier, crunchy and sweet in places. The icing topped it off. The top of the bread was textured with escaped bubbles of dough that hardened and offered that melt-in-your-mouth crunch that glazed fritters have, with that vanilla bean bourbon of an icing blessing.

This “baked good” was so difficult for my culinary mind to understand. The hybrid bread was a melding of different classifications of meals, techniques and expectations. It was bread, it was breakfast, it was dessert; it was sweet and not so sweet. Uni-cultural fusion baking?

I had to hit the streets and figure out this culinary conundrum. Back at the source, Bread Store employee of two and a half years Lauren Cassavoy was on site. She put me in touch with the man responsible, head baker Kevin Reynolds, but not before raving about how much she loved the bread and still had half a loaf at home.

A five-year veteran at The Bread Store, Reynolds has spent 20 years in the business of baking. The Tower Café, New Roma Bakery and River City Brewing company are just a few of the Sacramento spots contributing to Kevin’s culinary credentials.

As it turns out, the Orange Cobblestone Bread was the result of a happy—and ingenious—accident. Kevin had to do something with leftover orange zest and orange essence from The Bread Store’s orange cookies. Since he had some scraps of ciabatta bread dough, he threw it all together, baked it in a pound cake tin and iced it for consumption.

When he made and tasted his creation, Reynolds realized, “People are going to want that.” He then admitted, “I was just trying to use stuff.”

Reynolds has begun to have more creative control, Cassavoy told me. A new schedule establishes a rotation of featured baked goods each second, third and fourth Saturday. But Reynolds will get to work his magic on whatever he likes each first and fifth Saturday. If the Orange Cobblestone Bread was any preview of what Reynolds has in store, I recommend marking your calendars for a trip to The Bread Store the first Saturdays of the month.

There’s no telling when the Orange Cobblestone Bread will return. It would all depend upon whether or not he has the basic ingredients are on hand.

With orange being such an essential holiday fruit, the time seems right. With inquiries from lots of interested eaters (that means you, Sacramento!), Andy Smith and other folks calling the shots at The Bread Store just might see the benefits of baking this bread for Sacramentans more often.

Screw Atkins, everything about bread says love. Everyone could use more love—especially if it’s zesty and sweet, like Orange Cobblestone Bread.