Earlier this week, while pondering the ethereal concha roll (why is perfection so out of reach?), I suddenly had an epiphany. Why am I limiting myself? I could be searching for the best bakery, while I’m searching for the best concha. The best bisquet. The best cuernito. The best… pan de muerto.
Yeah.
The list might be longer than I thought. I’m gonna need a bigger pair of pants.
Suddenly fueled up about having a purpose in life, I hit the streets on Tuesday with a taxi driver I like, Memo. We hit seven bakeries in three hours, and finished at my friend Julie’s house for the final taste-test.
Did anyone best Bondy, La Reina de la Concha? You’ll have to find out.
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