Culinary Review: Wintermoon Milk Cafe

Wintermoon Milk Pastries

It is often said that the best work begins with a double caramel whipped fluffernutter nitro brew and a dozen stickybun balls for one. And while I try my best, as lead student columnist for The Daily Dog, to stay impartial, the only place that affords such comforts is Wintermoon Milk Cafe. 

I have never stepped foot into Hollowmere without visiting Wintermoon. It is a tradition that I will continue as long as I remain a student at Dogwood (to the dismay of my parents who currently fund my eating habits). 

The cafe is situated on Downtown Street, across from the Madame’s Market and Psychic shop; a convenient location for picking up last minute groceries and a palm reading. The Ink Splot bookstore is to the right and to its left is a small community garden. 

And while the cafe’s charming exterior is sure to dazzle any newcomer, it is nothing compared to the whimsy within. Inside, the cafe is a two hundred and thirty three year old cream colored banyan tree. Its many roots and stems stretch across the matching colored floor to form all sorts of private hideaways. Dogwood University students can often be found hard at work, bending low over piles of books in the tree's various nooks and crannies. Poofy white lamp coverings and twinkle lights intermingle with the banyan’s leaves, creating a starlit canopy of yellow and green. Round wooden tables and plush armchairs are shoved together at random, bookshelves are crammed with leatherbound pages, and the smells of buttery pastries and gooey caramel assault the senses. On the whole, this cafe was designed for dreamers. 

So when my editor, Leigh Ledfoot, suggested I write something I’m passionate about for a change, I knew my next piece had to be the pastries at Wintermoon Milk Cafe. Yesterday I sat down to try a few of my favorites and to interview the regulars that frequent this magnificent shop. The cafe owner, Elodie Lottia, took the liberty of setting aside my usuals, which include her famous Choco Woodruff Tarts, the Snowcap sugar scones, and the cinnamon cream Whoopie Pies.

Elodie clued me in on her list of regulars and I was able to corner a few unsuspecting guests for their expertise in pastry eating. Mayor Gary Ludger commented on the enormous bear claw he was hurriedly scarfing down, saying that he wished Elodie stopped making them entirely, as he was beginning to worry about his weight. I told him not to worry, since he was sure to win the Santa look-alike competition this Holiday season. He did not seem comforted by this. Dan Organic, whose last name has caused a bit of a town scandal, said that he only went into Wintermoon Milk for the nitro brew. Apparently, when you change your name to something as severe as “organic”, you can’t be caught eating fried dough across enemy lines. 

Although Sheriff Brandon, who Elodie confirmed was one of her most frequent visitors, refused to give me a quote for the paper, he did begrudgingly grunt that the strawberry glazed donuts were his deputies’ favorite and he was only picking up the pink to-go box for them. As he was leaving I happened to catch him shoving one into his mouth. And what better way to explain the chokehold these pastries have over the citizens of Hollowmere than that.

Sweet Dreams, 

Mea Dreamy