Black Box Bakery — Restaurant in Edgewater

This place is absolutely amazing. Basically every single thing they have is a 10/10 every single time. The sourdough is some of the best ever. I have been to San Francisco and have sourdough at some of the most well known places and I can say unequivocally that the sourdough at Black Box blows theirs out of the water. The challa is always a favorite with my toddler and I as well. I’m not a huge fan of Nutella, but the Nutella Starship is divine, the white chocolate and shortbread is the perfect touch to the rich darkness of the Nutella and the little brownies on top are so good (when I’m able to get one or two before my 3 year old steals them). The Cubes are worth every penny too, so unique and equally delicious. My newest favorite though is the twice baked PB&J, it is life changing. Words can’t accurately and respectfully describe how amazingly delicious it is. It could easily be too sweet and/or rich, but it’s not at all, it’s perfectly balanced with its sweetness and I could eat 10.

I could go on and on, but I don’t think I’m allowed that many characters. Another thing that makes this place so fantastic is the staff. They are always so lovely and sweet to me and my two littles. Even though they’re always so busy, they never make you feel rushed or like they don’t want to be there. You can really tell that they actually like their jobs which goes a long way in this climate. Black Box is definitely doing things no one else is currently and in a world where it seems like nothing is original anymore, that is definitely something I love to see! Keep up the...

I didn't believe in love before being introduced to the bewildering black box backery, but after coming within 1000 feet of this immaculate establishment, an aroma of pure ecstacy began coarsing through my nasal passages, stimulating my olfactory nerves stronger than my last ayahuasca adventure through five dimensional space, and that was just from the scent.

After taking a bite of their immaculate cube, I quite literally teleported into the far future like the red skull in the first avenger movie, and when I came to, I witnessed a sight only seen by few. Among the rays of bunlight, I met our Lord and Savior, cheesy crust. We walked along the sandy coco peaches together as he preached to me the meaning of life... It's croissants. Croissants. But not just any croissants. BLACK BOX croissants. The best and most immaculate use of flour, dough, butter, and a number of incredible ingredients mixed together with pure love and wonder.

But then, our time began to come to an end. He put one hand on my shoulder, and looked me straight in the eye and said, "it is not your time, my son. Now go, tell the world of what I have taught you. Tell the world what the true meaning of life is. Tell them, of croissants."

A tear fell from my eye, and he gently booped my nose, and I was immediately thrust back into reality, which was in my car parked in the Edgewater parking lot covered in Nutella and croissant crumbs. It was, nothing short of incredible.

Also the coffee is...

Welcome to Black Box Bakery — where baked goods are less “French elegance” and more “America’s Got Diabetes.” Imagine croissant dough—already a rich and noble medium—overstuffed with brownies and Nutella, then dunked in white chocolate, rolled in shortbread, and topped with more brownies. For six dollars. This is not a pastry. This is a heath crime. The infamous “Cubes” are the final boss of your pancreas. Just looking at them raises your A1C. They sit on the counter like smug little blocks of insulin resistance, daring you to make poor life choices. And the experience? Oh, sweet buttery hell. You’ll stand in line for ten minutes—just to place your order for something that tastes like regret wrapped in burnt pastry. Then you’ll wait another ten minutes while someone else slowly meanders to assemble your box, which I assume involves a seance, a spiritual reckoning, and a conference call. To top it off, you’ll be prompted—no, guilted—into leaving a 20% tip for someone who handed you a pre-made baguette and managed to spell your name wrong on the receipt. Bravo. That’s not service; that’s audacity. Black Box Bakery is what happens when Instagram gluttony meets late-stage capitalism. It’s excessive. It’s exhausting. It’s edible gentrification. Skip it. Go lick a stick of butter behind a gas station. You’ll have a...