When
I think of Burbank, California, only two places come
to mind: the original Bob’s Big Boy and Martino’s
Bakery. The latter interests me quite a bit more,
although I do have fond childhood memories of eating
double-deckers at the Ventura, California Big Boy.
I almost cried when it became a Carrows.
There’s
something about Martino’s Bakery that has kept customers
coming back for over three-quarters of a century.
My guess for its success? One thing: Martino’s
tea cakes. Actually, the first time I’ve physically
stepped in to the bakery was last week, but I had seen,
tasted and savored Martino’s tea cakes long before.
My mother grew up in Burbank, and her siblings and my
grandparents have boasted about Martino’s tea cakes
for as long as I can remember. Hence, I was born
and grew up hearing about these wondrous little pastries.
As my family resided in Ventura and then in the San
Francisco Bay area, members of our extended family would
visit the bakery whenever they were in the vicinity
of Burbank. And the tea cakes, in dozens, would
beautifully withstand the ride up the I-5 into Northern
California.
This
luxury didn't grace us all that often. Actually,
I only distinctly remember twice having the privilege
of savoring a tea cake or two. But the tea cakes
are legendary. Now that I have relocated to North
Hollywood, Burbank's next door neighbor, I had to visit
Martino's for myself.
My
first visit was driven by a deep craving and a defined
focus: I wanted some tea cakes. As my boyfriend
Dan and I stepped through the bakery doors, I expected
to be directed toward the tea cakes, either by some
enormous sign (perhaps flashing and neon) or by some
divine force awakened from family members’ past visits,
guiding me to gluttony. Well, there was no sign.
I felt nervous and a bit unsure as I scanned the large
bakery cases. Pies, tarts, breads, muffins, danishes,
rolls, pinwheels, cookies, turnovers.
“I
don’t see them, do you?” I asked Dan, who has once enjoyed
the ceremonial consumption of the traveled tea cake
(so he knows what they look like). I could tell he was
thinking the same thing: Where are they?
Just
then, I faintly overheard another bakery customer, “…blah,
blah, blah, tea cakes, blah, blah…” Reassured,
I shrugged off my preconceived notion of tea cake arrogance,
and walked up to the register and asked the nice woman
behind the counter for some tea cakes, please.
She asked me to specify how many, but I didn’t know.
I was nervous that they only came in certain numbers
and I didn’t know what to say. Would she reprimand
me for asking for, say, five? Was there a specific
tea-cake code phrase or language I had to know?
I didn’t know the drill.
I
shook myself out of it, and asked her for a half dozen.
She reached behind her to the stacks of white bakery
boxes, and I understood; the tea cakes are packaged
in either half- or one-dozen increments for efficiency,
due to popular demand. I knew it, and it made me smile.
We paid about $3 (what a deal) and somehow managed to
survive the 5 minute drive home without diving in.
The
tea cakes resemble cupcakes but in a rectangular shape.
They are perfect in size and texture for eating more
than one. One tea cake can easily be devoured
in three to four large bites, similar in size to perhaps
a Twinkie, but shorter and fatter. (Please forgive
me for the poor example, and in absolutely no other
way can we compare Martino’s tea cakes to commercially
processed cream-filled torpedoes.)
Two
components complete the Martino’s tea cake: the
icing and the cake itself. When combined into
the final product, the two components become one, singing
in harmonious deliciousness. The icing is sort
of maple-like in flavor and is quite sweet, lending
only one thin layer to achieve perfect balance with
the not-as-sweet cake beneath. The cake itself
is moist without being gluey, buttery without being
greasy, and light enough to consume more than one; you
can see the little airy pockets of a bitten-into tea
cake.
Dan
and I ate five of the six with two glasses of cold milk.
We had to save one, perhaps as homage to a family tradition,
but mostly just to enjoy later that day.
Martino’s
Bakery is located at 1723 W. Verdugo Avenue in Burbank,
California. They are open Monday through Friday from
6:30am to 6:30pm and on Sundays from 8am to 4pm. The
tea cakes are made fresh daily from the same recipe
created by the original owners over 50 years ago.
Kristin
can be reached at kristin@babblog.com. |
