I’m in a dessert lover’s dreamland. Zeppole and sfingi surround me. A baker brushes glaze on tarts topped with fresh fruit. Three perfect lemon pies with sky-high swirls of meringue are coming out of the oven in a minute. I’m in the kitchen at Pasticceria Monteleone, a traditional Sicilian bakery in Carroll Gardens. I have a lifelong obsession with pastry. This is paradise.

The other day I introduced myself to owner Antonio Fiorentino and asked if I could watch him and his fellow bakers at work. One summer during college I had a job at a Paris pastry shop called Fauchon. I stood behind a counter and sold ice cream. They never let me set foot in the kitchen. Fiorentino was kinder than my French colleagues of yesteryear, and said yes to my request.