I went to the charming Danish Church on Willow Street with only one thing in mind. Glogg. Unsurprisingly, it was glorious.
For those of you who are not well-versed in Danish beverage traditions, Glogg is simply hot, spiced wine with a splash of brandy or vodka. What could be possibly be bad about that?
But, while on line, I spied folks mingling with plates of little enchanting donuts, which they rolled in soft, white powdered sugar and bright red strawberry jam. I had to get me some of those!
Those were called "Ebelskivers," melt-in-your-mouth globes of pancake batter, cooked to golden brown. Yum!
Yet, little did I know that I would be enthralled by another helping of Ebelskivers later that day.
Did I return to the wee Danish Church on Willow?
No. I ventured further afield, across Atlantic Avenue to Henry Public, a former television repair shop turned saloon that had been making waves in cocktailian circles. After downing a few potent drinks, I suddenly spotted platters of Ebelskivers everywhere I looked.
Was this simply a drunken vision brought on by my new-found Ebelskiver lust? I doubted it. I hadn't had that much to drink.
A waitress, seeing my curiosity piqued, let me know that I was actually staring at plates of Henry Public's popular snack food and dessert mainstay called "Wilkinsons."
As Shakespeare once wrote: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
And so it is true with the Ebelskiver. A Wilkinson is a Ebelskiver renamed and served alongside warm caramel sauce. An Ebelskiver that is decadent and delicious, soft and buttery, the perfect foil for the sweet caramel drippy goodness that comes with.
So, with Thanksgiving only hours away, I do not have thoughts of giblets and cranberry sauce dancing in my head. I dream the dream of Danish delights gone Brooklyn. I dream of Ebelskivers.