You might hustle right past Madeleine on the Ave on your way somewhere else. Despite its corner location, it takes work to notice it. The sign’s airy script feels ready to float away, strange metal sheets above the entrance curl askew, and the pint-sized door seems able only to admit Cousin Itt.
Eve M. Tai
Not much to look at. But…
All signs pointed to a sleeper. After frequenting the neighborhood for a few months, I finally went in one day to see if I was right. And I was. Kind of.
There’s a little of everything at Madeleine, starting with a display case that might be a remnant from high-school shop class. Inside, a hodgepodge of breads, scones, cookies, turnovers, puff pastries, and Asian-style buns await.
The Lane Bryant size of the baked goods–everything is baked onsite–will throttle any tendency toward restraint. Burly chocolate-chunk walnut scones and poufy apple-pie turnovers beckon at me. The clerk tries to steer me to an almond croissant, but when I see the puff pastry big as a linebacker, I WANT IT. It’s mostly air interspersed with a shot of mild butter cream here and there. But who cares? And here’s the thing–the pastry actually works. The flakes fall apart with vigor while the butter cream daintily holds the rest together. (I’m somehow reminded of Rosey Grier doing needlepoint.)
Eve M. Tai
Size matters.
You’ll find cakes and mousses in a second refrigerated case, shoehorned into the bakery’s unwieldy space. In fact, the whole place has a 1970’s rec room-cum-ski lodge feel—knotty pine benches, a leftover Christmas garland, random chairs and tables—dolled up with sheer red curtains and small chandeliers. It’s safe to say there is no feng shui at work here whatsoever.
But that’s also Madeleine’s charm. It’s so mixed up, it’s full of personality. That goes for the abundant baked goods as well as the atmosphere. It’s a place you can’t help but love.
Eve M. Tai
