Monthly Archives: January 2014

Visiting Carlo’s Bakery

“Fess up, were are we going?” I asked my parents, somewhat irritably.  “Um, the place is on TV,” my dad responded, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. I rolled my eyes in unison with my twin sister Daniela, who was sitting next to me in the backseat of our family Camry. “That sure clears it up” I muttered sarcastically. “Dad,” I said, raising my voice to it’s normal volume. ” Practically everything is on TV these days”. “True, true” my dad grunted vaguely. I eagerly waited for my father to continue, but he said no more. Sighing exasperatedly, my sister and I turned to watch the cityscape rushing past through the window…

Cookies at Carlo'sMy family was supposed to be going to New York City, but in mid-trip, our parents informed us that we would be taking a “Pit-stop”. Of course, like any typical kids, Daniela and I badgered our parents for any information about this mysterious “Pit-stop”, and like typical parents, they had managed to keep the location of the pit-stop a surprise. That is what drifted through my mind as I stared out the window, but my brain hardly processed any of it, as it was to busy admiring what I was seeing outside. A tall building was billowing large quantities of smoke, while smaller buildings blinked up at me in he sunlight, as if saying, “I might be small, but I can still do just as much as any big building”.

A good five or six minutes later, we had not yet reached our destination, and I was starting to feel anxious. I was longing for a hint, a clue, of were we might be going. “Girls,”my mother started. I snapped my head around to look at her. “Hmm?”. “Well, if you look at that sign coming up,” she gestured ahead of her, ” You might have an inkling about where we are going”. I gazed anxiously at the sign, but it was to far to read. Frustrated, I leaned forward a bit and strained my eyes, hoping to get a glimpse of the words that might tell where my mom and dad were intending to go…and finally, I could see the white block letters, the letters that spelled”Hoboken“.

Hoboken…TV…what was the connection? Come on, you can do this, I thought desperately. The answer was so close, I could feel it. Then, an idea came to me so quickly it was as if it had been right there in my brain the whole time: We were going to the famous Carlo’s Bakery. I glanced at my sister, wondering hazily if she had come to the same conclusion. Evidently, though, she hadn’t, because her eyebrows were scrunched up as if she were baffled and she was mumbling”Hoboken?” curiously under her breath. “We’re going to C-” ”I can figure it out by myself, thanks,” Daniela snapped, causing me to flinch.”Jeez, sorry” I snarled, utterly perplexed. ” I’ll leave you to think in peace,then,” and with that, I turned around rather fiercely to stare out the window.

One minute passed…( “Almost there!” my mom insisted.) Two minutes passed…( “Just around the corner!”). I sat straight up in my seat, completely  forgetting about the quarrel I had just  exchanged with my sister…we were bound to be pulling up any moment, yes, there it was; Carlo’s Bakery. Carlo’s Bake Shop was printed in gold, and sample cakes were decked out on the display case, looking picturesque. I gaped at the shop a few moments more, than climbed out of the Camry and onto the sidewalk. Behind me, Daniela looked completely stunned.”Wow,” she breathed. “Wow”. “Cool, right?” I grinned. All Daniela could manage to do was nod. Then, instantaneously, we both ran towards the building, only stopping when we reached the entrance. I reached out with a trembling hand to turn the door handle, but some thing made me hesitate… where were our parents? I turned to my sister. “Where are our p-?” ” Ariana, Daniela, wait up!” our parents called. Relief washed over me like a cool bath. They were right over there! Grinning sheepishly, I did what I had been intending to do before: Open the doors to Carlo’s Bakery.

Livid with excitement, I bounded into the shop, wanting a great deal to remember this experience, When I looked around, I noticed that the shop not only had cakes and cupcakes galore, but tons and tons of torts, tarts, and other things of the sort. It bit my lip and realized with a start that it would be nearly impossible to pick less than ten items, and I was sure my mother or father would never allow me to buy that many pastries. “Er…mom? Dad?” I piped. “What?” my mom replied, sounding curious.”I was, er, wondering how many, um, treats I can get?” I muttered all this very hastily.”Three each, so chose wisely.” I gulped heavily and began to scan the shelves for something that I found appealing. Almost at once, my eyes stopped on a sweet that was labeled “Mama’s favorite”. I strode over to Daniela to consult her about “Mama’s favorite”. “It’s a chocolate covered biscuit with some walnuts as a garnish. Or, at least I think it is, I’m no expert baker.” I told her out of the corner of my mouth. “Sounds good, but this looks better,” she shrugged, and just like that she dragged me over to another display case, and showed me something that made mouth water, much, much more than when I saw “Mama’s Favorite”.

Chocolate covered strawberries. The ripest, most succulent, strawberries I had ever seen. I gasped. “I know!” Daniela swooned, misty eyed. “We’re-we’re getting a least two of those,” I stammered. “Yeah,” she mumbled as if she Carlo's Mugwere in a trance. I swayed and fell hard on my bottom, which, admittedly, shook me back to my senses. “Right,”. I grabbed Daniela round the middle and brought her away from the strawberries.  “So, any other leads?” I prompted. “Whaa…? oh, yes,”. In turn, she dragged me over to the third and final display case. Daniela crouched down, and I shadowed her. ” How does this tort look?” Once I had her thoroughly convinced that the tort looked wonderful, we reported back to my mom with our preferred pastries. “Is that all ?” the cashier asked cheerfully after we had told her everything we wanted. “I think so!” our mother replied with the same cheerfulness. The cashier turned on her heel and began to box our items as I watched over the counter, smiling with glee. In just a few moments, I would be carrying a box branded Carlo’s Bakery, and I would be curiously trying to guess which pastry was within. And soon enough , that was exactly what was happening, and then in what seemed like an instant I was sitting in the back of the Camry, waving a wistful goodbye to Carlo’s bakery as it disappeared into the distance.