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Walking into this pristine, neon-pink-tinted Chinatown bakery—opened in 1990, with two offshoots in Flushing—is sheer sensory overload. A bustling crowd herds around the counter, glazed-over eyes taking in the pastry-porn display: vibrant fruit tartlets artfully topped with honeydew balls and tufts of whipped cream; pale rounds of creamy papaya and green-tea custard; and moist, delicate minicakes coated in salt-flecked shredded coconut to counter the sweetness. Ponytailed workers whiz about in pink polos with trays of less eye-catching but mouthwateringly fragrant pork mochi, golden-fried doughnuts hiding soft, glutinous rice and savory minced swine. It’s just as weird and wonderful as it sounds.
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