The 5 Best Black & White Cookies in New York

I remember the day I had my first “drop cookie”. (That’s what my best friend’s Sicilian Grandmother called them). It was 1974, Middletown, Connecticut.

I was 12 and it was a Sunday. The sauce was simmering, on its 12th hour of dutifully marinating the homemade sausage and meatballs. The bread had just been pulled out of the oven and I was in a state of anticipated euphoria as I peered from the doorway not daring to enter the kitchen.

Grandma Patavina was barking instructions in Italian, leveled at her poor shrinking husband: “VI DIRO QUANDO E IL MOMENTO DI MANGIARE !!  NON ANDARE VIA!!”

My friend would whisper the translation like we were watching some grainy black and white movie: “I WILL TELL YOU WHEN ITSA TIME TO EAT. NOW GO AWAY!”

Which is a good segue to mentioning the most amazing Black and White cookies I have ever tasted. The tray of those puffy cakey pancakes would sit on top of the ceramic stove, beckoning like the forbidden fruit.   If you wanted to feel the sting of a wooden spoon across the back of your head, by all means, go grab one, dip it in the white chocolate, or should I dip it in the milk chocolate??

I always had a tough time deciding which side of the cookie I liked better and would end up delaying just long enough to hear the Whack! followed by the ringing in my ear.

OR? Better strategy:

Send your friend up to the giant bowl of steaming pasta in the sink and distract Grandma Patavina: “can I taste the macaroni Grandma?”  He would get the spoon Smack on his dirty knuckles while I would grab a cookie, dip one side in the dark chocolate, rotate it, dip the other in the white chocolate, and get out of the kitchen like it was on fire.

We would always have to apologize, while licking chocolate off our lips, feigning remorse and regret.

My wife’s BFF, Stephanie Liner,  has her Black and Whites flown to her dinner parties in Los Angeles. First Class.

She was kind enough to forward the attached article for us. If you can’t make it to any of these stores soon enough, just ask any NYC commuter to grab a couple at Zaro’s in Grand Central. (Always feel the frosting through the bag, if it isn’t soft, ask for one off the bakers’ cart behind the counter. They also now have “Only Whites” if you prefer just the white frosting)

As my brother Greg likes to say: You’re welcome.

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