Dallas actor Scott Zenreich did the math. His new play Pastry King, debuting at the Wyly Theatre in Dallas in April, would cost about $25,000 to execute. He had $10,000 already, raised another $3,000, and crossed his fingers for a $7,500 grant.
It wasn't enough.
But there was inspiration in the play he wrote, the story of a husband and wife who own a cannoli shop. "I felt like I had no other choice," Zenreich says. His next move was as sincere as it was strange: He would become a part-time cannoli salesman.
In one of the more unconventional marketing efforts in Dallas' theater community, Zenreich and Dallas pastry chef Nina Angelilli Conoley will visit more than 20 hot spots in Dallas and sell ricotta pastries in the months leading up to Pastry King's debut. Unsuspecting customers will find Zenreich and friends selling cannoli for $3 each at outdoorsy shop AJ Vagabonds in Oak Cliff, at East Dallas wine shop Times Ten Cellars, at Uptown Dallas cocktail den The Tipsy Alchemist, and at Fair Park coffee roaster Noble Coyote, among others. The money from sales goes to Pastry King and to pastry chef Conoley.
It's wacky, to walk into a beer bar like the Ginger Man in Dallas and find smiling folks in the back, ready with cannolo. Even that word is silly: Cannolo is one pastry; cannoli is two or more. Zenreich smirks: If we'd read the Pastry King script, we'd already know that.
For Zenreich, this pastry pop-up is a test. Can he sell thousands of cannoli and make thousands of dollars, all the while telling people about his upcoming play — the one showing April 23 through May 5 in the Dallas Arts District?
It helps that a cannolo is "made of dough and cheese and sugar — so the margins are good," Zenreich says. Still, each batch of cannoli takes about three hours of work for paid pastry chef Conoley. And the process is long: She makes ricotta 48 hours in advance before mixing, rolling and frying the shell dough.
Zenreich's love for cannoli started when he lived in Boston as a musical theater student at Emerson College. (Cannoli — good ones — are much easier to find in the northeast, he notes.) Today, he would like to be a full-time actor, but the money just isn't there. He supports his dream by working as a server at popular Dallas Italian restaurant Macellaio. It's easy to see where his two loves, of food and theater, come together, especially learning from restaurant owners David and Jennifer Uygur, whom Zenreich calls "the best bosses I've ever had."
Zenreich says his interest in food and theater is a natural fit for North Texas audiences, too — but that arts groups could do a better job serving them.
"There are Fort Worth theater patrons with wine cellars in their homes," he says, "and they're being served a bad glass of pinot grigio before a play." His hope is that selling cannoli all around town can kick-start a business model that inspires foodies and arts patrons alike. If it works, he dreams of opening a bar someday where its sales support a for-profit theater community — where money goes to commissioning new plays, producing theater, and paying artists and technicians a living wage.
So far, Zenreich has sold more than 800 cannoli, and he and Conoley plan to visit coffee shops, breweries, bars and events to try to sell 5,000 before showtime. Don't have cash? They take credit cards, too.
Zenreich hopes selling cannoli across Dallas becomes a symbol for the future, of what he could do someday to raise money for theater groups in North Texas. "That's really important to me," he says. "Art shouldn't be charity."
Cannoli pop-ups will take place through April 15 at venues all around Dallas-Fort Worth; find them here. Pastry King runs April 23 through May 5 at the Wyly Theatre. Tickets cost $25. Anyone who goes to see Pastry King in the Dallas Arts District will get a cannolo during the show, too. As Zenreich says, "You can't really see a cannoli play without eating a cannolo."
