Butter, salt, toast. Besides potentially being my three favorite words in the English language, what do all of these culinary terms have in common? Answer: a trendy new brick-and-mortar in the Lower East Side.
Justin’s Salt Bread recently opened on Second Avenue and Third Street and already has become an instant must-try for the greater Manhattan area. The unassuming storefront conceals a cafe that expands deep into the block, decorated sparsely with wall art and furniture.
The first variation of salt bread came across my desk in the form of an Instagram reel. The post consisted of a young woman showing her “easy” process of making these little rolls of joy and love, accompanied by the obligatory tapping and crunching demonstration nearly every cooking video includes to prove the food is, indeed, able to be heard!
After making a mental exclamation of how good this cousin of a croissant looked and how I needed to try it, I did what anyone in my position would do: save the video to the void of other recipe reels I’ve compiled, scroll and promptly forget about it, never to think about salt bread again. Or so I thought until I heard what Justin had been cooking up down east.
Being a firm advocate that the forgotten macronutrients — carbs and fats — deserve just as much celebration as protein has amassed, I knew what I must do. Right after my Lincoln Center class ended at 2:15 p.m., I made like the bone-chilling wind and rushed to Second Avenue to fulfill my glutenous mission before the shop closed at 3 p.m.
The store ironically stands out, being among the few black-and-white features in the chaotic Lower East Side environment. Upon entering, I was taken aback by how much room there was. There were benches lining the far-reaching walls along with stools and some flat platforms where groups of four could comfortably sit criss-cross applesauce.
The offerings were limited, but nonetheless highly appealing and aesthetic. The bread is the only food item, available in bags of three or single orders, and one can choose to add a regular, chocolate or matcha sweet dipping cream.
Drinks consisted of your typical espresso concoctions, along with traditional matcha and a signature salt latte. I was highly intrigued by the last option, but unfortunately, I have received one too many overdrawn account alerts. After I secured my bread and sweet cream, I averted my eyes from the baristas and made my way to a bench.
Once I confirmed for myself that the bread was crunchable, I took my long-awaited first bite of the buttery, glistening delight equipped with a dollop of sweet cream. This bite was quickly succeeded by another and another, until the only proof of bread were my buttery fingers.
The outside delivered on that auditory crunch, greeting you with an ever so light crisp. Digging deeper, the inside had a soft, yet resistant texture. Through the middle there was a hole where the butter had exuded from to create that lovely fried crisp on the bottom of the roll.
A glorified Pillsbury crescent roll is the best way I can describe this, and that by no means does it justice. It has the hallmark pull-apart function that the Dough Boy does so well, but with an elevated level of flavor, consistency and happiness.
One piece of bread and a tiny sidecar of cream ran me about $5.50; I’ll allow you to evaluate for yourself whether or not that price is reasonable. The operation was concise and the workers were on a roll (pun intended). My dining experience was certainly enjoyable, but the airiness of everything I ate did leave me wanting for something more substantial.
I think I have seen what I needed to, and, unfortunately, I don’t see Justin earning a spot in my rotation of cafes. Still, I would recommend anyone to try, and — if you are making the trek — do what I was too cowardly to do and get the latte to make the trip worth the Metro-North fares.
I often question if these one-trick pony food spots are more special or tacky. It seems a waste of precious NYC real estate to only devote your square footage to making bread. However, it’s not like you can be disappointed or misled by the lack of options considering the name is Justin’s Salt Bread, not Justin’s Food Emporium.
Looking around the space I realized how special it was that all of us corralled in this establishment on the same mission. With such few decisions to make, the atmosphere seemed more like a lounge to talk with a side of bread for the table, and there’s something truly beautiful about that.
