There is a special bakery in Venice that I love, and I have visited every time I’ve made it back to that ancient city of islands. It is called Barozzi Pasticceria.
The bakery is not much to look at from the outside — like much of Venice it’s exterior is composed of aging walls with crumbling corners and mottled plaster — but inside the warm air is heady with sweet creams and fresh breads. The glass counter is filled with delicate filo-dough pastries.
Barozzi Pasticceria is located on the more workaday Santa Croce island of Venice, not too far from the train terminal. We happened by it for the first time in 2010 when we were looking for a bite for breakfast. Unlike many of the other bakeries in Venice, the people who worked here spoke very little English and the customers were largely ordering in Italian.
It was just around the corner from the hotel we were staying in, and the bakery was so delicious and well-priced we went back every day we were in town.
It was so good in fact, that four years later when we returned to Italy and Venice, we kept an eye out for it.
We didn’t remember exactly where it was, and had no idea what it was called. Just strong scent memories that made my taste buds salivate. We were staying in a totally different part of Venice this time, near St. Mark’s square, and almost gave up hope in finding the bakery. Until a series of accidents — including me inadvertently slipping into a canal while trying to get the perfect shot with my camera — led us down a familiar winding street.
Just before we could see the red awnings, Jim declared that the bakery was up ahead. It was. We found it. And filled up on yummy treats to our hearts content. We made specific plans to give ourselves enough time to stop by the bakery again the following day on our way back to the train station and Milan.
Unfortunately when we arrived, we saw it was closed and remembered it was Sunday. We took pictures of the awnings to remind us the name and the location for the next time we were in town.
Luckily, a couple months ago I found myself back in Venice for a single night traveling with my sister-in-law. We arrived late at night, well after the bakery would have closed, so made plans to visit it on our way out the following day.
When we arrived I tried to order a box of pastries to take home with me on my flight to Los Angeles later that day. The woman at the counter pleasantly and promptly denied me the pleasure trying to explain in broken English how pastries are meant to be eaten right away and are not good for traveling.
After some cajoling I managed to get a handful of pastries, one of which made it al the way home past security to Jim.
— Laura Rowley