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This inconspicuous, lowbrow, dead cheap little neighborhood bakery is actually run by a former pastry chef from the Plaza Hotel in New York--and the pastries are dazzling. The lemon bars are golden squares of French lemon tart, so full of butter they project a certain glowing luminescence and melt on the tongue, the crisp crust providing a sweet crunch of backbone for the rich filling. When you order this delirious bit of sunshine, the high school girl behind the counter picks it up with waxed paper and unceremoniously chucks it into a paper bag. Part of you wants to scream, "Quit! Would you chuck the Mona Lisa?" Part of you knows, yeah, they would. This place is just like that.