Local bakers bake up a holy storm for Pope Francis

In its century-plus history of baking in the Italian Market, Isgro Pastries had never received an order quite like this. It came Wednesday through a friend and neighbor of third-generation owner Gus Sarno on behalf of someone who preferred not to be identified. It was for a cake. A very big cake. And it was to be served at Archbishop Charles Chaput's 71st birthday celebration with a "very special guest."

And, oh, yes, it had to be done in just two days - when the Secret Service would come by to pick it up. And it was totally confidential.

With the entire city caught up in the frenzy of preparations for Pope Francis' visit, Sarno knew the code and did not hesitate.

"This was not business as usual but . . . you pray for this: 'Wow, wouldn't it be a beautiful thing to be able to make pastries for the pope?' " he said. "And then out of the blue you get requested to do this - almost like divine intervention."

For Sarno, a Catholic and huge Francis fan ("this pope is what we've needed for years"), this was actually the third separate request he'd received to bake for the festivities. Isgro made sweets for the reception following the concert at the Festival of Families on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway, and also for the pope's plane ride home on American Airlines.

But Isgro was hardly alone. The entire city was deluged with Francis-themed edibles during the pontiff's visit, from cross-shaped soft pretzels to "pope dogs," "Il Papa" pizzas, pumpkin-pecan "pope tarts," and a "pope-up" beer garden serving pope-themed brews. Only a handful of local food artisans, though, actually made food that crossed the path of the pope and his entourage.

"At least a dozen people approached me, from pizza places to wineries, hoping to get their food on the pope's menu," said Harry Williamson, a vice president of the CulinArt Group, which runs the food service at St. Charles Borromeo Seminary in Wynnewood, where Francis slept and ate four meals. "But we're very limited in who we can work with. Some of these things are very sensitive."

Eric Berley of the Franklin Fountain in Old City, who with brother Ryan used a rare mold from the archdiocese's 1940 jubilee to create caramelized banana-flavored ice cream bars bearing a relief of the seminary's likeness for one of the meals, was already ahead of the security concerns.

"We watch a lot of Sherlock in my house, so I offered to eat the first scoop in front of them," said Berley. "They said they had their own protocol in-house."

Robert Hoback of the Secret Service, which had been securing the seminary for several months, said the agency worked closely with Vatican security. He would not, however, comment "on our means and methods."

The reaction among those lucky chosen few who made the cut, however, was one of joy and honor that crossed religious persuasions.

"Baking cookies for the pope is a mitzvah!" said the Famous 4th Street Cookie Co.'s David Auspitz, who is Jewish. With plant manager Lou Pierce, they personally baked 300 chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, and peanut butter cookies for the seminary, which placed a tray in the anteroom just outside Francis' bedroom. "I hear he likes cookies," Auspitz said. ". . . This guy is special."

Pope Francis' tastes, as communicated to organizers through a Vatican liaison, are famously no-frills.

"He is a simple man and his diet is simple," said event producer Fred Stein of the Creative Group, which oversaw much of the pope's visit. "When he's at the Vatican he eats with everyone else at the cafeteria buffet."

The seminary's meals, also served buffet style by CulinArt chef-manager Joe Salvato, were more elaborate than one might expect, with Maryland-style crabcakes, stuffed Berkshire pork loin, veal saltimbocca, pan-roasted salmon, and fettuccine with kale pesto. There were breads and pastries from Le Bus, local produce through Common Market, and Italian rum and tres leches cakes from Sweet Jazmines bakery in Berwyn. A 2011 Chianti Classico from Castello di Verrazzano gifted by Old City's Ristorante Panorama was poured at the pope's table. (A keg of "Holy Wooder" Belgian-style ale from Philadelphia Brewing Co. was ordered by the seminarians for their own party, Williamson said.)

"He wants his guests to enjoy what they can eat, so we don't hold back," said Williamson, who noted that the cookies and ice cream were huge hits.

And reviews from the pope's 42-member entourage were divine.

Following Saturday's late-night supper, the Vatican secretary of state, Cardinal Pietro Parolin, told Williamson: "I went to Washington and New York and they were so elaborate with chandeliers and glitz. But your dining room here is so warm and welcoming it feels like I'm at home. I hope you do the food service in heaven."

But Stein stressed that "there were no special gourmet meals ordered for him. Any pressure a caterer or chef placed on himself was self-imposed."

Isgro's Gus Sarno might beg to differ.

He'd hoped he could serve the pope one of his famous cannolis, but a lack of refrigeration nixed that: "It's killing me!"

He'd hoped to make a spectacular five-tiered cake for the archbishop's birthday, but he wasn't allowed to deliver it himself.

"No offense to the Secret Service, because I know they're good at what they do. But they do not deliver cakes."

So he settled for a still-massive but low-rise lemon pound sheet cake big enough to feed 100. The frosting was hand-painted with requested iconic images of the Center City skyline, the LOVE statue, and even a mini-Rocky. ("Again, not what I would have picked, but . . .")

A grateful Sarno did discover a new love for dulce de leche, the sweet South American caramelized milk that is one of Argentina-born Francis' favorite flavors: "I thought I'd tasted everything, but this opens up a whole new avenue for me at the bakery."

Turning that dulce de leche into a multilayered sponge cake slim enough to slide inside a tightly packed airline cart, however, was a major challenge. So was coming up with a s'more requested by Sky Chefs for the flight: "How do you make a s'more worthy of the pope?"

Sarno settled it by crowning the burnt marshmallow peaks over his individual graham-and-chocolate tarts with gold-painted chocolate leaves. He can only hope that when removed from a tight-squeeze airline cabinet on an inch-high tray, "the s'mores didn't smear."

"A thousand things could go wrong," said Sarno. "But the one thing that could go right is if the pope smiled when he ate it."

claban@phillynews.com

215-854-2682@CraigLaBan

www.philly.com/craiglaban