Friday, March 13, 2009

OPERATION BAKED GOODS REDUX

Yesterday I was presented with an irresistible opportunity to continue this blog's ongoing (if sporadic) investigation into the desiccant properties of assorted baked goods native to the Iberian peninsula.

nicanores con nata

The latest entry in our parade of decadent desiccant dulces is shown in the photograph. The pastries in question are known as "nicanores", and are native to the little pueblo of Boñar, which is -- as far as my lazy, google-based research has been able to ascertain -- somewhere not too far outside of Madrid, in the province of (Castilla-)León.

It seems only fair to allow the Nicanores a chance to give their side of the story -




The Nicanores are an exquisite puff pastry which the main row material is the butter. After a caring manipulation, they have turned into a puff pastry of a extraordinary quality as the smooth of their layers make them so delicate that they get dissolved in your mouth in the same way that it happens with the own butter.

Here at Operation Baked Goods Central, our standards have to be a little higher. (Our readers deserve no less). Our reviewer's opinion:

Although the nicanores share the unique desiccant properties common to all eThpanish baked goods, eating them was not an entirely painful experience. The saliva-absorbency did not quite reach the levels of the little desiccant packages found in new luggage, and the cardboard taste that is regrettably common in the pastries of the Iberian peninsula was refreshingly absent. They were, however, extremely friable, reaching the maximum 5 points on the flakiness scale. Consumption was definitely aided by the large dollops of "nata" shown in the picture, though it is this reviewer's opinion that the "dairy product" in question was definitely closer to Kool-Whip (sic) than actual whipped cream. However, its presence had a definitive ameliorative effect on the consumability of the nicanores, and extra points are due to the restaurant for providing the entertaining little sugar stars as decoration. Sadly, none of this was enough to make a person ever want to eat this particular delicacy more than once in a lifetime.

The pastry chefs of Vienna, indeed of all of Northern Europe, have little to fear from this Iberian delicacy.

Although the name suggests that this pastry might be a particular favorite of suave, martini-swilling, couples with a taste for sleuthing, this appears to be nothing more than a lexicographical coincidence.

1 comment:

bilby said...

I once tried one of these. Back in the Dark Days. Oh, it went down with a modicum of fuss. But as it came up again it sang, far too gleefully:
Nica
Nica
Nica-nicanores
Your wife
she-a
she-a surely snores