About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. One morning, as a delivery driver pulled up outside Le Point Pastry & Bakery, he noticed an unusual scent wafting from the alley behind the shop. Curious, he followed it around the corner and found an old man standing there, humming softly and placing tiny cookies into small paper bags. The delivery driver watched in amusement for a moment before calling out, ‘Excuse me, sir? What are you doing?’ The old man turned around with a smile, revealing a mischievous glint in his eye. ‘Oh, these little treats,’ he said, holding up a bag. ‘They’re for my neighbors across the street—just a bit of kindness.’ With that, he winked and disappeared down the alley, leaving behind only the sweet scent of freshly baked pastries.
2. At dawn, when most bakeries are quiet, an early bird arrived at Le Point Pastry & Bakery. The owner noticed something unusual: every morning, a mysterious figure left exactly three dollars on the counter before disappearing into thin air. One day, a sleepy delivery driver stumbled in, still half-asleep. He placed his package on the counter and absent-mindedly dropped three dollars—then remembered he hadn’t paid yet. ‘Oh no,’ he muttered, realizing it was his third unpaid visit. The owner smiled knowingly and waved him off with a wink.
3. At sunrise, when most people were still dreaming, a delivery driver pulled up outside Le Point Pastry & Bakery. The street was empty except for a mysterious figure standing in front of the shop, muttering something about ‘the perfect croissant’. The delivery driver, puzzled but curious, got out and approached the figure. It turned out to be just an early-rising neighbor who whispered, 'Finally, someone understands my obsession with finding the best croissant!' They shook hands over a baguette, both laughing, as dawn broke and the bakery doors slowly opened.
4. At daybreak, when the streets of New York were waking up, a delivery driver pulled up outside Le Point Pastry & Bakery. ‘Finally,’ he muttered, ‘the doors open before noon.’ But today, they didn’t. A neighbor poked his head around the corner and asked if everything was okay. The driver shrugged, ‘Just another day in paradise—closed shop on a Monday morning.’ With a sigh, he went off to find breakfast elsewhere, muttering something about how even Parisian bakeries don’t close this early.