By By Michaela Papa, Columnist
Wandering back after leaving a bar in Florence the other weekend was strangely familiar. Coming back Friday night around 2 is no unusual feeling. Neither was my hunger. Around 2 a.m. on a Friday night back at Hofstra, any proud Pride patron stops at Dutch Treats. Statistics show that fewer than three percent of Dutch Treats revenue comes from sober students. This is perhaps because nobody in their right mind is willing to pay $5 for Pringles, or perhaps because Pringles never seem more necessary than at 2 a.m. In any event, Dutch Treats is a stop on any late night trek home.
As I am used to the ability to satiate late night hunger cravings, I was at first slightly upset in there being no place in Florence open to cater to my needs. Then I heard the magic words: “Secret bakery?” Upon asking for clarification, the stranger simply reiterated, “Secret bakery?”
According to legend, there are bakeries around Florence that open up around 1:30 a.m. Though they open so early to bake the next day’s goods, they will cater to customers until 5 a.m. The window of opportunity is very limited, though if found the bakery certainly a sweet find.
Suddenly I was transformed into Cartoon Michaela. I was lifted off the ground; my body floated on grey-colored, visible beams of aroma. Sweet smells were magnetically pulling me in. What magical place was emitting the enchanting aromas?
We were finally there: a Secret Bakery. Inside, the miniature bakery was already filled. Apparently many a person were possessed by their Warner Brothers alter ego tonight. Hot, freshly baked mini pizzas; warm, oozing, chocolate croissants, apple-filled pastries…really, how could one chose? Dismissing the possibility of buying three of everything, if only due to the fact that I had only coins in my pockets (one of them a nickel), I decided on a chocolate croissant.
This is in the top five best decisions of my life. Though this may say something about my life decisions, it should also say something about how – excuse my Italian – freakin’ amazing this pasty was.
Walking back to my apartment at 3 AM in the misting night air reminded me of Long Island. I said in a previous editorial that Florence keeps reminding me (be it good or bad) of Long Island. With the familiar feeling of living inside a nimbostratus cloud, I thought, Hey – what makes this walk home better than a walk home at Hofstra? The answer was obvious: a warm pastry.
Dutch Treats should start making fresh pastries at 2 a.m. While I realize the lovely workers of Dutch Treats may not welcome this openly, perhaps an easier improvement could be made. Simply offering to toast Pop Tarts from the hours of 2 a.m. to 5 a.m. would make Hofstra — nay, the world — a better place. Nothing satisfies a person at 2 a.m. after a night out like a warm baked good.