Mazzola's: The Bakery That Never Sleeps

has been in the same red brick building on the corner of Henry and Union Streets for about eighty years. Originally opened by the Mazzola family and then bought by the Caravello family thirty years ago, this neighborhood bakery has consistently supplied the community with a staggering array of fabulous fresh bread and pastries.

Josephine Caravello, 44, currently manages and co-owns the bakery with her two brothers Frank, 42 and Anthony, 34. Mazzola's bakes everything from baguettes and loafs of rye, to pies and cookies. The delicious coffee and breakfast foods (added when the Caravello's took over) mean that there is an endless stream of customers each morning. The bakery serves the immediate neighborhood, but it also provides delis, restaurants and supermarkets from all five boroughs with bread daily.

Although the shop is open from 6 am - 8 pm every day, the bakery itself stays active and open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There is always someone at Mazzola's, and it draws all sorts at all hours.

4:16 PM

Dean Caselnova, 37, pushes open the glass door and leaves the warmth of the bakery. Carrying a brown bag full of baguettes and fiddling with his cell phone in his free hand, he walks purposefully across the street. He's making the trip back to his restaurant of two months, Caselnova, an Italian trattoria on Columbia Street. The walk to and from Mazzola's is one he makes once or twice a day.

Peeking out of the large brown bag he cradles are a few tightly packed loafs of the seeded Semolina bread which he uses for "table bread" at his restaurant. The ciabatta he uses for his paninis also comes from Mazzola's.

"Now that I'm in the neighborhood there's no other choice," says Caselnova of Mazzola's. "I just go there."

It's just that good.

Caselnova lives in Bay Ridge, but had heard about the bread at Mazzola's from family members for years before opening his restaurant only a blocks away.

Caselnova isn't the only person coming out of the bakery with bags full of bread. It seems that many people in the neighborhood do their bread shopping at Mazzola's and it's surprising how many non-restaurant owners are seen leaving with shopping bags filled with a variety of baked goods.

3:30 AM

After a night out in other more raucous corners of the city, it's a relief to return to the serene streets of Carroll Gardens. The empty blocks between home and the subway are comfortably lit by the warm glow emanating from street lamps above. The night is almost over. Upon rounding the corner of Union and President the smell of baking bread bathes the block. The light above Mazzola's back door glows like a beacon on top of a lighthouse saying, "Home is near!" The golden light and delicious aroma coming from inside the spacious bakery beckon. There's nothing to do but stumble closer.

The workers on the night shift at Mazzola's can be seen packing up their maroon van, filling it with trays of crusty loaves to be dropped off at various locations across the city. No matter what time of night they'll gladly part with a still warm loaf for just under two dollars. Suddenly those last few blocks that must be traversed before  rolling into bed are much easier to make. A flaky orange-gold crust torn away reveals impossibly light and downy dough. What better way to end the night?

8:45 AM

Mazzola's is at its busiest in the morning. The pre-work rush boasts both locals and commuters grabbing breakfast. A thirty-something businessman stops in for a coffee. While waiting he stoically listens to music coming out of white ear buds that mask the bustle of the shop. An older Italian man leisurely orders his morning coffee, changing from Splenda to sugar and then back again. A father walks in with his toddler in tow to get a blueberry muffin: their morning ritual.

The small space that the store inhabits overflows with customers and is packed tight with bread. The six people waiting to be served form a tight "U" in order to fit inside the narrow confines of the shop. Filled with smart rows of festive cookies, the well-lit display case whets your appetite and tempts you to get more than what you've come for. Pale green and red sugared Santas are in neat lines beneath a shelf filled with hills of macaroons and glass jars with mini-muffins. On the opposite side of the cramped space are racks of pies -- the burnt orange of pumpkin alternating with the espresso ridges of pecan.

Next to the cookies and behind a case filled with danishes, croissants and greasy but oh-so-good rolls are what seem like one too many employees. Weaving around and through their fellow workers the Mazzola's employees take turns punching prices into the cash register and filling cups with steaming coffee. Dressed in brown and generally unsmiling (but not antagonistic), no one is ever idle. It's always a pleasant surprise how soon the "next customer" being called is you.

Most people, including Josephine Caravello, cite the lard bread as their favorite item from Mazzola's. Yes, there is lard in it, but don't write it off until you try it. A hunk of this golden-crusted loaf is perfection. Made with Genoa salami, provolone cheese, pepper and a spread of lard this bread is the object of many a food-lover's pilgrimage. The spiciness and rich, cheesy flavor are hard to resist.

The temptation to buy a loaf spiked with provolone and meat is great, but don't fret -- they also offer smaller lard bread rolls and pretzels for the "health-conscious."

Although it may be the specialties that attract new customers, the bakery's consistency and the superb quality of every loaf, danish and cookie keep people coming back at all hours of the day.