Coastal Bake Shop: a new gem in Pasadena

"You can't even get a decent loaf of bread over there!" scoffed a frenemy of mine when I moved to Houston's East End back in the 80s.

That remained largely true until early this August, when the family-owned Coastal Bake Shop opened in Pasadena, just 12 miles from my house. Now the city's east side and the Bay Area have easier access to serious naturally leavened loaves, croissants and related Viennoiserie, as well as killer sandwiches I am happy—nay, eager—to drive for.

Rick and Katherine Alba, trained as an anthropologist and artist respectively, started their baking business four years ago, during the pandemic, when home baking was exploding. They built a fan base selling at Galveston and Bay Area farmers markets. Now their crisp little strip-center shop sits in an area of prosperous housing developments and apartments whose residents have made Coastal a hit. They've already added Thursday to their original Friday to Sunday hours. Based on my first visit, I'm predicting (and hoping!) for more.

I liked everything I tried in my Sunday-morning haul, which r0de home with me in a big white cardboard box stamped with the blue Coastal logo. I could still feel the oven warmth through the paper bag holding a fat round country loaf of super-crusty, full-flavored sourdough. Made with a 3-day process, it turned out to be kind of bread you can spread with a little Irish butter and feel like you're living on a higher plane.

I loved the dedication to meaningful detail here: the scratch-made lemon curd in the vibrant lemon-and-blueberry Danish pastry; the notably gentle house-made almond cream tucked into the almond croissant; the use of organic flours from Barton Springs Mill out of Dripping Springs. (The mill's owner, James Brown, happens to be from Pasadena originally; and a few of his flours are sold by the sack in the bake shop.)

And oh, that focaccia-based Italian sandwich! Swaddled in white- and blue-checked wrap, the stack of prosciutto, salami, provolone, tomato and arugula gets better and better as it sits at room temperature, so that the herbal, nutty tones of its house pesto and fruity olive-oil dressing marry with the other ingredients. The focaccia is sturdy and spongy enough to stand up to the ripening process. It's a wonderful picnic-ready package.

And it makes me curious about Coastal's vegetarian version that's made with mozzarella and tomato, among other things. I am eager to try that, too—and any other sandwiches the Albas and their chipper young crew feel like putting out. I found references to the classic French jambon buerre on their social media accounts, made with their demi baguette; and to a "Reuben croissant" that sounds kinda wild.

My sole quibble was that the interior-most strip of laminated dough in the gorgeous plain croissant was stretchier and moister than I would have liked. All else was as it should be: crisp shatters of browned layers, airy layers of pale pastry beneath, big toasty Maillard and butter flavors. The single-baked almond croissant proved that Coastal has its techniques down, so I'm curious to see how my next plain croissant here turns out.

Because there will definitely be a next time.

Yes, you can get a well-made coffee here, and thoughtful beverages from a little refrigerated case. A couple of vintage-look chairs lurk on the covered sidewalk outside the whitewashed shop. I'd love to see some cafe tables out there in the fullness of time, if Pasadena regulations allow.

I can see myself sitting there. Showered in croissant flakes, or stray sprigs of dressed arugula.