Philippe Jamotte
Google
Oh man, I'm broken, I'm split, I'm divided, I'm crushed, I'm polarized. What's not to like about a bakery that's a 15 minute walk along the Pacifica cliffs? A beautiful way to start your day, that it is, my friend. A place where friendly waiters with heart framed glasses await your order and shower you with friendly ease as you make eye contact. A resting spot that exudes the industrialism of your local baker is a gentle reminder that while you were sleeping, squinting your eyes open for another gorgeous day on the Coast, here the busy workers were getting ready to get you ready.
I recently moved to the area and came to buy bread on a Sunday: a microdough, considering there's only one stomach at my new place. Some comments here complain that the crust was burnt and hard, and the inside lacked sourdough-ness. I beg to disagree. My crust was perfect as pictured. And it's true the flavor was not overflowing with sour notes, and that worked for me.
My eye caught a lonesome kouign-amann next to the cash register. I'm a sucker for kouign-amann, which also makes me a bit of a connoisseur. I was hesitant because of the yellowish dot but figured that maybe it's just an adventurous spin on the real thing. Oh how my heart sank! Sacrilege! This is no adventure, this is bringing the honorable kouign-amann down to donut hell! Cream filling! Oh my ... Please rename the "thing" or have a real, true to its origin, kouign-amann in addition. But this ... Non, mais alors quel gâchis !
Last word: it's a bit pricey.