Aileen Santiago
This week, I embarked on a mission to find the best pastry Yale dining points can buy. I had grown tired of throwing my money away at Atticus each morning, not awake enough to register that my latte and danish had somehow come out to $14, and decided things needed to change. My first stop on this journey was the Elm.
When I arrived to the Elm at 2:35, fresh off a particularly mind-numbing Econ 115 lecture and in search of an excuse not to check the newly-posted midterm grade, I was disappointed to find only three different pastries awaiting me — I had hoped to spend hours tasting and re-tasting each offering, deluding myself into believing I was being productive. I placed my order with despair lingering in my voice: one blueberry scone, one strawberry crepe cake and one vegan ancho chili brownie.
Blueberry scone — or blueberry pocket?
Let me explain the confusion here: I am not sure whether I sampled a blueberry scone or a blueberry pocket. I am fairly confident that I ordered a blueberry scone, but have since come to believe that what I received was actually a blueberry pocket — from the outside, it looked sort of like a round version of a croissant, with its edges folded carefully inward to create a hidden compartment in its center filled with blueberry compote. It did not look or taste like a scone.
My initial bite into the pastry yielded only a mouthful of flaky croissant dough — good, sure, but not remotely blueberry flavored. The second bite granted me access to the pastry’s center, but I soon realized that I needn’t have been so excited. The blueberry filling wasn’t particularly flavorful, and I ultimately felt no need to return for a third bite.
Rating: 6/10. Still not sure what it was, still not sure how I felt about it.
Strawberry crepe cake
Sitting behind the glass of the display case, this loosely defined pastry looked delectable. It consisted of countless layers of paper-thin strawberry crepes spread between with a strawberry whipped cream, all set atop a crumbly shortbread crust. My excitement turned quickly to confusion, though, as I watched my slice be unceremoniously deposited in a brown paper bag — certainly not an appropriate receptacle for an item as malleable as this one. By the time I had sat down to try the item, it had become hideously deformed and remarkably difficult to eat. It still tasted delicious, light and airy with a perfectly subtle strawberry flavor, but I received several strange looks from my neighbors in Beinecke Plaza as I struggled to take a bite of the mess that had become of my crepe cake.
Rating: 8.5/10. Points lost for inadequacies in packaging.
Vegan ancho chili brownie
When I bit into my vegan ancho chili brownie, I expected fireworks. The combination of chocolate and chili excited me, and the idea that the entire delicacy could be vegan made it all the more intriguing. My first bite left me a bit disappointed. It tasted to me like a normal brownie — a good brownie, but not one that would leave any special impression. It was cakey and moist, with a deep dark chocolate base. It certainly surpassed my usual expectations for vegan food, but I didn’t taste the spice of the chili at all.
I continued munching on my brownie as I turned my attention to my English reading. A few minutes later, having finished about half the brownie, I noticed a tingling sensation in my mouth — my tastebuds felt warm, the roof of my mouth slightly numb. In each additional bite, I tasted more and more of the ancho chili’s kick. I’m still not sure whether I really enjoyed the brownie’s slow burn, but I can say with certainty that it lived up to the intrigue of its name.
Rating: 7/10. An interesting and potentially worthwhile dining experience?
The following afternoon, I stopped by Steep Café to see whether their pastries would offer any more variety than the Elm’s. Though none of their options were as eye-catching as the vegan brownie, I did find a bit wider of a selection. More interestingly, I noticed some overlap with the Elm: Steep also had the strawberry crepe cake, but this time contained within a small plastic container to protect its delicate composition. Feeling shortchanged by my own crepe cake experience, I decided to try Steep’s chocolate chip cookie and wild raspberry stuffed panettone.
Chocolate chip cookie
I am being intensely serious when I say this was the least remarkable chocolate chip cookie I have ever tasted. I have no more commentary to share on it.
Rating: 5/10. Just steal one from the dining hall.
Wild raspberry stuffed panettone
From the moment I spied it in the pastry display case, this glorified jelly donut had me excited. Large enough to fill my outstretched palm, it looked like just the thing to prepare me for an afternoon of telling myself I should really get some work done. The thought of biting into it put an unusual pep in my step as I walked back from science hill.
The moment I arrived in my common room, I whipped out the small pastry bag containing my donut. I admired it in all its sugar-dusted perfection, and took my first bite. It was delicious — delightfully layered, perfectly sweet with a cutting sourness emanating from the berry filling. Upon my second bite, though, things began to go awry: raspberry jam began flowing from the donut at a rate I had no way of controlling, coursing forth with the current of a raging river, tumbling forward and landing unceremoniously on the arm of my common room couch. The more I attempted to eat, the messier my snack became. It seemed almost impossible how much filling had been contained within the donut’s small central pocket, but there the proof sat, appearing to laugh at me as I wiped it away with a paper towel.
Rating: 7/10. It still breaks my heart to think about the wasted potential here.
On the final day of my pastry-tasting adventure, I returned to the Elm, willing to offer them a chance at redemption. I found a few new options awaiting me, and decided to try a ham and cheese croissant and a morning glory muffin.
Ham and cheese croissant
Honestly, this pastry didn’t look appetizing. I ordered it because, as a reviewer, I feel it’s important to be open-minded, but following my experience with this croissant I will probably refrain from being as open-minded in the future.
From the outside, this resembled a normal croissant with a bit of cheese melted against its crust. Inside, the usually airy and flaky layers of the croissant were weighed down with ham and cheese, making for a disorienting and oddly sickening eating experience. I hated this too much even to pawn it off an unsuspecting friend; it proceeded straight into the trash.
Rating: 3.5/10. Trust your instincts on this one.
Morning glory muffin
This raisin-studded muffin provided a nice reprieve from the trauma of the croissant — although I found it hard to discern any specific flavors, the texture was pleasing and the muffin succeeded in clearing my mouth of any lingering ham and cheese aftertaste. I left this dining experience convinced that it was, in fact, a glorious morning, undeterred by my experience with the croissant.
Rating: 8/10. A perfectly acceptable morning time snack.
Ultimately, this journey didn’t yield any new favorite pastries for me — next time I want a snack to accompany my coffee, I’ll most likely lose another $7 to the Atticus industrial complex. It did, however, leave me with a nice assortment of half-eaten delicacies to offer my suitemates when they began to wonder why ants were suddenly so interested in one particular spot on the arm of our common room couch.