You’re standing on the corner of Arthur Kill Road in Staten Island, and it feels like the year 1930. The air smells like yeast and heavy cream. If you’ve ever lived in New York, or at least heard your grandparents talk about the "good old days," you’ve heard of the Holtermann’s Bakery Charlotte Russe. But honestly? Most people today have no idea what it actually is. They think it’s a fancy French cake or a clothing store in the mall.
It’s neither.
The Holtermann’s Bakery Charlotte Russe is a weird, beautiful, push-up-pop piece of history. It is a sugary time capsule. While the rest of the world is busy deconstructing bagels or putting gold flakes on donuts, Holtermann’s is still doing exactly what they’ve done since 1878. They are the last bastion of a dessert that was once as common as a slice of pizza in the five boroughs.
The Weird "Push-Pop" Mechanics of a Legend
Let’s get the logistics out of the way first. This isn't a dessert you eat with a fork and knife at a linen-draped table. No way.
The Holtermann’s Bakery Charlotte Russe comes in a small, scalloped cardboard cup. Usually, it’s white with blue or red polka dots. At the bottom sits a dense, golden disc of sponge cake. On top of that? A dollop of raspberry jam. And then, the main event: a towering, architectural swirl of real whipped cream, topped with a single, bright-red maraschino cherry.
But here is the trick. The cup has a movable cardboard bottom.
To eat it properly, you use your thumb to push that bottom up. It’s basically the 19th-century version of a Flintstones Push-Up. As you lick through the cream, you keep pushing. You’re chasing the jam. You’re aiming for that final, perfect bite where the cake, the fruit, and the cream all hit at once. It’s a messy, tactile, glorious experience that makes you feel like a six-year-old in Brooklyn in 1945.
From French Palaces to Staten Island Streets
People get the history of this thing all wrong. They think it’s Russian because of the name "Russe." Not quite.
The original version was actually invented by Marie-Antoine Carême, the "Chef of Kings." He was the guy who cooked for Napoleon and George IV. His version was a massive, elegant mold lined with ladyfingers and filled with Bavarian cream. He called it "Charlotte à la Parisienne" but eventually renamed it to honor his Russian employer, Tsar Alexander I.
So how did a royal French cake end up in a cardboard cup in Staten Island?
Immigrants. That’s how New York works. In the early 20th century, European bakers realized they could simplify this royal treat for the masses. They swapped the expensive Bavarian cream for whipped cream. They traded the ladyfingers for a cheap slice of sponge cake. By the 1930s, the "Charley Roose" (as people actually pronounced it) was the ultimate street snack. It cost a nickel. It was the "Brooklyn Ambrosia."
Why Holtermann’s Bakery Still Matters
Holtermann’s is the oldest family-owned bakery on Staten Island. Walking in there is a trip. You see the white-and-blue boxes stacked to the ceiling. You see the Pullman bread—that perfectly rectangular loaf named after the train cars.
But the Charlotte Russe is why people make the pilgrimage.
Most bakeries stopped making them decades ago. Why? Because the cups are a pain to source. The labor is intensive for something that sells for a few bucks. It’s a low-margin nostalgia trip. But the Holtermann family—currently led by Jill Holtermann Bowers and Billy Holtermann—has kept it on the menu.
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They don't put it on a pedestal. It’s not in a special velvet-lined case. It usually just sits on a plastic tray in the corner of the display alongside the crumb cakes and donuts. That’s the beauty of it. It’s not "retro" to them. It’s just what they do.
What it actually tastes like
Honestly, if you’re expecting a high-end, triple-filtered, artisanal experience, you’re missing the point.
The cream is heavy. The sponge is simple. The cherry is that waxy, syrupy kind that probably shouldn't exist in nature but is somehow perfect. It’s about the texture. It’s light but satisfying. The jam provides this sharp, acidic hit that cuts through the fat of the cream.
The Battle for the Last Charlotte Russe
For a long time, there was a rivalry. Leske’s in Bay Ridge used to make a killer version. People would argue about who did it better. But Leske’s closed its doors years ago. Now, Holtermann’s is basically it. If you want the authentic, New York, push-up-cup experience, you have to go to Great Kills.
There are rumors of other places in New Jersey or deep in the Bronx that might do a version by special order, but for a daily, "walk-in-and-grab-one" experience? It’s Holtermann’s or bust.
A Note for the Uninitiated
If you’re planning a trip to get one, here is the reality:
- The Journey: If you don't live on the Island, it’s a trek. You take the ferry, then a bus, or you drive over the bridge. It’s an hour each way from Manhattan.
- The Timing: They sell out. Don’t show up at 4:00 PM on a Saturday expecting a tray of them. Get there early.
- The Etiquette: It’s a local spot. People are there for their morning rolls and coffee. Don’t be the person blocking the line taking 50 photos of the display case. Buy your stuff, move to the side, and then do your "content."
What Most People Miss
The most interesting thing about the Holtermann’s Bakery Charlotte Russe isn't the recipe. It’s the community.
When you sit at one of the few tables in the bakery, you’ll see seniors who have been coming there for fifty years. You’ll hear them talk about how their parents used to bring them here. For these people, the Charlotte Russe isn't a "viral food trend." It’s a memory. It’s a connection to a New York that is rapidly disappearing under the weight of glass towers and $7 lattes.
The bakery is almost 150 years old. That is insane. Most businesses in this city don't last fifteen. The fact that the same family is still using the same recipes in the same building (mostly) is a miracle of small-business grit.
How to Do This Right
If you want to experience this piece of New York history before it's gone—and let's be real, nothing lasts forever—here is your game plan.
Go on a weekday morning. The vibe is calmer. You can actually talk to the staff. Ask them about the history. They’re proud of it.
Buy more than just the Charlotte. The crumb cake is legendary for a reason. It’s mostly crumbs, which is the only way crumb cake should be. Their sourdough is excellent too.
Eat it immediately. Whipped cream doesn't travel well. If you leave it in a hot car while you drive back to Brooklyn, you’re going to have a soup cup. Find a spot, push the bottom up with your thumb, and eat it right there on Arthur Kill Road.
Don't overthink the "authenticity." Some people complain it’s just a "cupcake with cream." Those people are boring. It’s a ritual. It’s a specific way of eating that was designed for a faster, simpler version of the city. Embrace the mess.
The Holtermann’s Bakery Charlotte Russe isn't just a dessert. It’s a survival story. It survived the Great Depression, the rise of supermarkets, the Atkins diet, and the gentrification of the outer boroughs. It’s still here, sitting in its polka-dotted cup, waiting for the next person to figure out how to push the bottom up.
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Go get one. Seriously. Before the world changes again and we’re all eating 3D-printed protein bars. You owe it to yourself to taste 1878 at least once.
To make the most of your visit, head to 405 Arthur Kill Road early in the morning and pair your Charlotte Russe with a box of their signature buttery crumb cake for the full Staten Island experience.