In the city where there is a bakery at literally every corner, many of them open 24/7, it is very obvious that there is something special about Aca.
First of all- it is stubbornly open only until early evenings and, furthermore, if you arrive later than 15:00, most of the freshly baked pastry will be sold out already (luckily, their sweets section remains Marie Antoinette-worthy until closing). Sundays? Forget about it! Resting. Big holidays? Nope. Holidaying. And on top of all that, they seem to have no intention whatsoever to spread across the city, although their reputation would definitely inspire Monopoly-like ambitions in other mortals. They stick to their one location, right next to Atelje 212 theatre, which is probably why the quality remains predictably high.
Which brings us to the subject of what justifies this haughty behavior. It must be their melting croissants. Their amazing breads with dried plums, olives and you-name-it. Their blueberry and raspberry tarts.
Or, in my case, their marzipan delicatessen cookies, pumpkin pie and the traditional “Rozen” cake that literally tastes like it was made by my grandmother. And their daily thick vegetable potage, when I feel more sensible. Which is less frequent than I’d like you to know.
