The Alley on Bitters has chewed up and spat out countless restaurants over the years. Jason Dady's Bin 555 and Tre Enoteca were too fancy and highfalutin for their environs (i.e., boutique shops specializing in rustic housewares aimed squarely at middle-aged housewives), while other eateries (The Pomegranate, anyone?) were largely forgettable and would have failed just about anywhere. Only The Bread Box, a bakery/cafe now in its fifth year, has thrived in a space where so many other places have faltered. Chalk up The Bread Box's success to Lucas and Tina Kent, the former a CIA grad and the latter a restaurant veteran with close ties to famed local restaurateur Cappy Lawton.
Even without the large breakfast and lunch crowds, Lucas and Tina would still make a healthy living via local wholesale distribution. Some of San Antonio's most celebrated restaurateurs source their baked goods from The Bread Box. If you've ever bitten into a Philly cheesesteak sandwich at Gino's Deli Stop & Buy or smeared chicken liver mousse on a slice of toasted wheat bread at Cured, then you've unknowingly sampled the Kent's kneaded wares. Fortunately for us plebeians, the rotating selection of breads (as many as 33 varieties per week) and other baked goods are available to purchase at the restaurant.
This author seldom makes demands of his audience, but in this case I am issuing you a directive, Dear Reader: call the restaurant before they open and tell them to reserve *at least* one sack of English muffins. They usually sell out within minutes, so calling in advance is a must. These bad boys are the real deal: crusty, crumbly, almost diaphanous leavened bits of buttery bliss. Unlike the vastly inferior mass-produced variety, these taste strongly of yeast and become even more buttery when toasted. They are so intensely buttery, in fact, that you can hear the butter sizzling in the toaster. I've been known to devour three muffins in one sitting...because they are delicious and I have an eating disorder.
I have yet to visit for breakfast service, but the lunch fare has never disappointed. The Bread Box features one of the city's best chicken salad sandwiches, a sweet-savory concoction featuring herb-roasted chicken breast, Granny Smith apples, cranberries, and Dijon mayonnaise on buttered, toasted honey wheat seed bread. It's a sandwich of familiar flavors made with superior ingredients. Bakeries and tea rooms tend to attract a predominately female demographic, but The Bread Box burger would satisfy the manliest of appetites. The half-pound patty -- a blend of Wagyu brisket and short rib sourced from Peeler Farms -- features a dollop of housemade smokey-sweet bacon jam tamed by a thick slice of nutty, melty fontina. The brioche bun -- also homemade (of course) -- achieves the alchemical feat of being both pillowy and sturdy enough to contain the juices from the patty and bacon jam.
Desserts are invariably excellent and include a caramel apple pie chock full of the titular fruit (both sweet and sour varieties for contrast) and ensconced in a crust both thick and flaky. The Bread Box's nontraditional take on chocolate cream pie is admittedly an acquired taste, but I have grown to appreciate the contrast between the cocoa and the pronounced twang of the sour cream base. The large, somewhat dense chocolate chip cookies are buttery throughout and laced with just enough salt to balance out the sweetness.
Hitherto this point, I have bestowed nothing but sycophantic praise to The Bread Box and its talented cadre of bakers and cooks, but one persistent issue prevents me from awarding a five-star review. Without exception, the kitchen inexplicably sells out of menu items. I can understand when a place runs out of an especially popular item later in the day, but The Bread Box often runs out of key components (chicken salad, certain types of bread for the sandwiches) less than one hour into lunch service. Waste may indeed make haste, but a restaurant should err on the side of its customer; anticipate demand and make a little more than needed.
The Bread Box is a deservedly popular spot for breakfast and lunch, but I question how much longer it can survive in The Alley. Allow me to rephrase that. I'm not sure how much longer The Alley can survive despite The Bread Box's popularity. The shops surrounding the restaurant attract such little patronage that I wonder how they manage to stay in business. The Bread Box may be the heart of The Alley, but the adjoining shops are suffering from a severe case of peripheral artery disease. The Alley's days might be numbered, but I have faith that The Bread Box could relocate almost anywhere and continue to thrive. I won't have it any other way; I can never go without those English muffins. read more