I asked a Frenchman once “What do the French typically have for breakfast? Is it really just cigarettes and coffee?”
Smoking a cigarette suavely, he answered “We eat croissants everyday. With jam.”
This year, I naturally began developing a morning ritual on my off-days from work (and it heavily involves croissants).
The routine starts with a light stroll up the street to one of my favourite cafés. This particular spot is a charming little coffeehouse, one which I’ve had countless magical, heart-warming conversations in; it’s a place where people gather and special connections are made. The manager, a 44 year-old Virgo sun signed man, has become a dear friend and confidant of mine—and I have this coffeehouse to thank for the gift that is our friendship (shoutout to you, J).
I order myself a black iced americano and an almond croissant, and then proceed to sort out my thoughts. Perhaps they’re incomplete ideas from the previous day, backed up creative juices that haven’t had the space to flow during the week, or heavy emotions that have been marinating and steeping in my heart, dying to be aired out. This routine has brought me a lot of peace and focus.
There’s a beautiful balance between sipping on cold espresso and nibbling on something sweet, crispy and buttery; it’s the harmony I seek to set the tone for the day. And only a twice-baked croissant can give me that satisfaction of ultimate, breakfast-appropriate crunchiness. The perfect almond croissant renounces the inclusion of almond extract and instead allows the natural toasty nuttiness of the almond frangipane to shine. It collaborates with the golden-brown caramelization of the croissant, further emphasizing the pre-established deep, toasty notes—what a joy to savour.
From a professional’s perspective, twice-baked croissants are genius. Plain croissants are airy pillows of buttery heaven. Ideally, you’d bite into its crisp, flakey shell and then sink your teeth into a soft and delicate network of buttery gluten. The twice-baked version of this well-loved pastry redirects its focal points to the grand possibility of textures and additional flavours that can be incorporated. It emphasizes crunch and fillings: a baker’s dream canvas to experiment and create mind-blowing experiences.
Black Bird Baking Co. makes a good almond croissant. Something I could eat everyday. It is humble, but hits all the right notes for me. Sturdy and crunchy. An almond frangipane that tastes natural and pleasantly subtle. And it’s the perfect shape.
An aspiration of mine is to one day have the pleasure of indulging a pastry from Lune, an Australian croissanterie that produces impeccable TB Croix. From the looks of their Instagram page, they’re constantly pumping out new ideas, such as: the Snickers Cruffin (croissant muffin, peanut crème pâte, salted caramel filling, chocolate ganache button and sundae peanut topping), hand-held tiramisu, and the Sichuan & Soy Snail. Lune’s dedication to creativity and seasonality is apparent; their showcase of innovation and playfulness never fails to inspire.
Overall, croissants are amazing vehicles for creativity. Toronto’s own 84 Nassau Street Cafe made an off-menu scallion pastry that had my heart crying from nostalgia. The taste completely replicated an iconic Chinese treat: the scallion pancake. This scallion croix was like a French execution of the northern-style Chinese chung yao bang (蔥油餅). It translated so perfectly: flakey, buttery-soft layers of pastry with sliced scallions embedded and scattered randomly about, finished with a generous topping of white sesame seeds which boosts the entire taste profile by adding a nutty aroma. The northern-style Chinese scallion pancake is very much structurally the same, except the type of fat used is not butter but instead oil. The integrity of a laminated, sweet and savoury, spring-oniony delicacy was not only intact, but honoured.
Another mind-blowing pastry that can be found in the heart of the city is Le Genie’s pain suisse—I had no idea what pain suisse was before having it for the first time at this patisserie. I walked up and down along their pastry display, pacing with indecision. Finally, I landed on a pastry that was filled with crème pâte and chocolate chips. How simple and unassuming… and how surprised I was by its sophistication after my first bite.
The crunch of the pastry was unbelievable. The creaminess of the crème pâte perfectly paired with the deep, rich bitterness of the dark chocolate chips all made sense. Where was pain suisse all my life?
Afterword (for bakers and nerds like myself)
Generally speaking, you can laminate croissant dough with any flavoured butter as long as it is chemically compatible with the dough. Recently I heard through the pastry-kitchen grapevine that cocoa powder can interfere with the rising of croissant dough. Important note: always fact-check. It is positively, absolutely possible to incorporate cocoa into a croissant without inflicting negative effects to the product; a cocoa beurrage and cocoa détrempe are both fine modifications to make. Making successful transformations takes determination, a solid grasp on fundamentals, and resilience to run tests until your desired result has been achieved.
Whenever I “off-road” like this, I am extra-attentive. I look, listen, and feel at each step of the process. Is the dough appropriately hydrated? What’s the dough temperature at the end of mixing? What’s the ambient condition in my kitchen? Did the dough rise well? How did the bake go? All of these clues will be helpful and necessary when making adjustments for the next bake.
- Martin Philip, “How to give any bread a chocolate makeover”
In pastry school, one of the projects we were assigned as part of our final lab was to make a vanilla and tonka bean croissant—this was the class that opened my eyes to using compound butters in place of plain, unsalted butter to make the croissant beurrage.
Imagine layers of gochujang butter running through your croissant. How about a tasty croissant laminated with nori butter, or one made with copious amounts of dill and parsley [setting the perfect stage for a tangy cream cheese schmear and lox]? Or one that tasted just like gingerbread: warm, spicy notes of clove, ginger, cinnamon, and nutmeg, with a touch of molasses.
If Jiro dreams of sushi, then I dream of compound butter combinations that could be used in making croix.
Coming soon… Croix: Part 2
What to do with day-old croissants (you can do a lot).
gingerbread croissant with a proper french hot chocolate???? too much? or just right?
delicate & so intriguing!! ref: croissants 🥐 & your writing 🧸🤎