During the 60s (and into the 70s and 80s) HG and BSK were known to puff some mind altering substances. And, this habit led to a desire for sweet baked goods. Fortunately, Manhattan was well supplied with wonderful family owned bakeries (many staffed by European immigrants who brought their pastry skills to the New World). On the West Side was the Eclair Bakery and Cafe on W. 72nd Street and a great bakery (name forgotten) on the southeast corner of Broadway and 79th Street. On the East Side was Mrs. Herbst’s Strudel and Rigo Hungarian. William Greenberg Jr. Desserts was (and remains) on Madison Avenue and purveyed (and still purveys!) sticky buns from heaven. A cheap treat for potheads was the caramel popcorn aptly named Screaming Yellow Zonkers. Screaming Yellow Zonkers were, in fact, one of the first mainstream products that absolutely focused on the Pot Head as consumer and employed psychedelic illustration, absurdist copy and, of course, sweet-salty crunchy goodness to lure Pot Heads. (They succeeded in this endeavor. HG noted, while in the queue at the Ziegfeld Theater to see Stanley Kubrick’s mind bending ” 2001: A Space Odyssey”, that everyone was carrying Screaming Yellow Zonkers or enticing blue and white boxes of Entenmann’s chocolate donuts). Ah, those were sweet times, indeed.
HG misses the high caloric New York breakfast treats of yesteryear. Greenberg’s Sticky Schnecken Buns. These honey, nut and cinnamon drenched little guys were more addictive than heroin. Sold by a shop — William Greenberg Jr. Deserts — on Madison Avenue, they were expensive and madly delicious. It took self discipline not to demolish an entire box before they were brought home. 
When the effects of weed smoking brought about a passion for sweet goodies, all senses cried out for the Greenberg’s product. Apparently Greenberg’s son is alive and well and making these wonderful buns according to his father’s recipe which are for sale HERE.
Croissants from the Sutter bakery on Greenwich Avenue in The Village. Flakey, crisp, outrageously buttery. Much superior to anything in Paris. BSK was partial to slices of Zito’s bread (from the old Bleecker Street bakery which closed in 2004) drenched with honey. With softly scrambled eggs, HG liked buttered Jewish rye or Pechter’s (or Stuhmer’s) pumpernickel (obtainable at Zabar’s).
Sometimes nothing tasted better than a warmed (not toasted) bialy liberally smeared with Daitch’s cream cheese (or Zabar’s scallion cream cheese). HG never fancied bagels. HG is concerned that bialy baking has entered a period of decline (are the old masters dead or basking in Florida sunshine?). Have not had a truly great bialy in years. Sadly, bialys shipped recently by HG’s much loved Russ & Daughters didn’t have that old time oniony zest. (SJ will interject now. The old time great bialy still exists at Kossar’s Bialys on Grand Street. A serious treat when warm from the oven and eaten whole right from a brown paper bag. Says SJ: You wouldn’t order fish from a baker, so don’t order bialys from an appetizing store.)
Possibly the best breakfast treat of all was the “pletzel.” This was a roll covered in baked onions. Good? As my Mom would say: “Nu,nu, don’t ask.” These were on the table at Jewish dairy restaurants like Ratner’s and Rappaport’s on the Lower East Side and at Jewish bakeries throughout The Bronx. Gone, all gone. HG’s eyes grow misty.
An Onion Pletzel
