A little bit west of the fluorescent lights of Times Square, a little side street leads away from the dingy Thai restaurants and throbbing bars of Ninth Avenue. The street is quiet, with trees, a small floral shop, and a little courtyard where older couples often walk dogs. There, near the courtyard, is a little piece of heaven.
You can smell the Little Pie Company before you can see it. As soon as you turn down 43rd Street, the scent of warm apples mixed with butter and cinnamon fills the air. The open kitchen shows bakers rolling out sheets of dough, sprinkling sugar over fresh fruit, and putting large pies into the oven.
This bakery, started by an actor, makes pretty damn tasty pies.
The bakery’s signature pie. A tender, flaky bottom crust is piled high with thinly sliced apples that are cooked until they are so tender that they almost melt into one another. The apples release their own sweet juices, caramelizing with spicy cinnamon and just enough tangy sour cream to cut the sugar content of the apples and make the whole filling creamy and rich. The topping here is the winner – crunchy and buttery with walnut streusel. Get it warmed and topped with smooth Bassett’s ice cream – the ultimate a la mode treat. It is the best version of apple pie you have ever had. If it isn’t, I will eat my elbow.
Or, more likely, I will just finish the pie.
Of course, there are some people who tink that if there isn’t chocolate in the dessert, it just doesn’t count. For them, get this deep chocolate pie. The crust is so crunchy and sweet and the filling is everything you want it to be – rich, smooth ganache, chewy and sticky sugary ribbons and large chunks of chocolate cookies. I like this pie best cool, when the whole thing tastes like a chocolate truffle gone wild. This is best with a dollop of their freshly whipped, barely sweetened cream.
Of course, you could always buy one of the seasonal pies, like peach or key lime, to take home. Or, get a small pie and share it with just one other person.
Just make sure that the other person is me.