Croissant

Recently I’ve had a craving for a croissant…the type that makes an absolute mess when you tear it apart…the type that leaves a confetti of delicate flakes on the plate, the table, and the napkin on your lap. A croissant that leaves your fingers glistening from the copious amounts of butter that was pressed into each of the layers of the pastry…a croissant that is equally rich in taste as it is light…confusing I know. The honeycomb cross-section and the tedious process of laminating the dough into hundreds of layers attributes to the pastry being flakey and light to eat. But there is still that sense of richness - no doubt from the sheets of butter that have been rolled into the dough - embedded in the croissant. Now the croissant experience I have been dreaming of consists not only of the viennoiserie fresh out of the oven - warm to the touch and exuding that glorious freshly baked aroma - but also accompanied with a cup of hot chocolate, a serving of whipped cream on the side, raspberry preserves and salted butter. Yes, all this just for one croissant.

About that hot chocolate…I’m not craving the Swiss Miss instant hot chocolate packet, the one you mix with hot water. The hot water that is never measured correctly…then the hot chocolate becomes too water-y…there are often weird clumps from the powder that haven’t dissolved…you always slurp the little marshmallows that have clung together in the first sip…and you inevitably burn your tongue because it never cools down fast enough…but you drink it anyway because you went through all that effort. No, that isn’t the hot chocolate I have in mind. I’m thinking about a steaming large mug filled with a decadent, rich drinking chocolate. Yes I’m ignoring the fact that I’m lactose intolerant, but the gastric pain will all be worth the moments of happiness and joy this hot chocolate is guaranteed to bring. I don’t want it to be too sweet - I’m thinking 70% dark chocolate would be ideal.

Now picture this.

You tear the pastry from one end. It’s warm, and you’ve already made a mess as there are flakes everywhere. You dip the pastry into the hot chocolate first, and then slather it with the whipped cream. The cold whipped cream melts onto the croissant and folds itself within the pastry. The hot chocolate makes the croissant even softer. The chocolate clings onto every layer…but yet doesn’t take away from the original taste of the croissant. There is still a distinct savory flavor in the bite you take. After, you have a sip of the hot chocolate, and the bittersweet taste of the dark chocolate compliments the ever-so slightly salty reminiscences of the pastry.

That was one experience complete. Now for the butter and jam.

It might seem silly to use butter on a pastry that is comprised solely of butter and dough. Might. But do yourself this favor, and use some salted butter the next time you have a croissant. Just, trust me when I say it elevates the experience. Is it indulgent? Yes, yes it is. But, is it worth it? Without a doubt. Slather on some butter - it has to be at the right temperature…the knife should be able to graze the butter with ease. And on top, add a dollop of raspberry preserves. I find raspberry jam to be the perfect compliment compared to its strawberry, blueberry and marmalade counterparts. The natural tanginess cuts down the richness of the added butter…the texture of the seeds adds an additional crunch to the very soft and supple pastry…you begin that bite with the zesty and tartness of the jam…then the velvety, sumptuousness of the butter…all together with the light and airy croissant…pure heaven.

I want to be on the streets of Paris, seated on a bistro chair - the wooden one with the checkered woven black and white pattern, my croissant in front of me, the butter in the metal wrapping, a small jar of Bonne Maman raspberry preserves, the whipped cream piled high in a ceramic dish, with a steaming bowl - yes, bowl - of chocolat chaud being brought by a handsome Frenchman who wouldn’t blink twice at me asking for extra whipped cream, jam and butter…and eventually another croissant. And some fries. Maybe wine. I’m getting side-tracked.

Instead, here I am. Sitting on my bed, drinking a warm Diet Coke (everything is warm at room temperature here in Singapore), and snacking on baby carrots.

Close, but no cigar.