Genius or Fad? From Cronut and Beyond.
Part 1: 2013
It was 6:00 A.M. August 19th, 2013. I thought we were early, after all, the door doesn't even open until two hours later, but the line had already wrapped around the block. This is the price you must be willing to pay for the cronut. A few months ago, Dominique Ansel presented this invention to the hungry, restless, awfully-fickle New York foodie scene. Classically trained and the once executive pastry chef at Daniel, Ansel decided to revamp the iconic American donut using croissant dough as the crux of the recipe. Remember, this is 2013, when donuts were on the rise and cupcakes were no longer the new black. Every bakeshop, from Donut Plant to Dough, was trying to do something novel with this morning favorite, experimenting with new flavors such as tres leches and hibiscus. Sure, changing the glaze may be one thing, but to take the humble donut and give it a complete french makeover is something almost unimaginable. Is this a stroke of genius or purely another fad? I had to find out.
The usual waiting time for the cronut is two and a half to three hours. It sounds awful, and it probably is if you're waiting by yourself or if it's the dead of winter. However, one thing that always sweetens the morning is the free mini madeleines the employees pass around. These are no ordinary madeleines. They're soft, pillowy, warm bundles of goodness that crumble at first bite and then melt in your mouth. Lightly dashed in powdered sugar, buttery with a hint of lemon, they're the epitome of the art of french baking. Simple and airy, these madeleines are nothing like the heavy, sugar-loaded giants you find in supermarkets.
At around 9:00 A.M. we finally made our way inside the narrow, but brightly lit bakery. Lined up along the counter was a head-spinning assortment of pastries and desserts, from the traditional plain and almond croissants to the luxiorious white peach blanc manger and raspberry beer cherry religieuse. Despite the overwhelming temptation to buy everything, we settled on a cronut each and a DKA and cannelle to share. Before the cronut craze overtook the bakery, it was the DKA that kept customers coming back for more. Standing for Dominique's Kouign Amman, it's a round pop-over-like cake made of croissant-like layers of butter and sugar. Hot from the oven with a crunchy caramelization on top, unbelievably soft with a slight chew on the inside, this was the pastry my life had been missing.
The canelé is also a french patisserie essential, though it is not widely familiar with the American public. With a thick caramelized exterior and a porous eggy custard center, the texture of this pastry was like nothing I have every tried before.
Finally the dessert we've all been waiting for (I actually ate DKA and canelé last, but I wanted to create a build up for you readers). Upon first sight, the cronut barely resembled a donut. Sure, it was ring-shaped and had icing on top, but besides that, it looked as french as any other pastry in the room. The monthly flavor was coconut and each cronut was topped with a delicate line of white icing and a sprinkle of dried coconut shaving. Biting in, I felt the crunch of the caramelized exterior, the soft pull of the buttery layers, and the gush of the sweet coconut cream filling. The dough was much like the dough of a croissant or DKA, while the cream was rich and milky. I thoroughly enjoyed the first half, but the second half started feeling a bit too sweet. Maybe it was the size, or maybe it was the top icing that made it too sugary, but the sugariness suddenly made it feel more American.
What was my verdict? The cronut tastes good and the technique required to make it cannot be matched. However, is it worth the two plus hour wait? If you go with a friend, maybe it is, but if you don't have an American sweet tooth the filling and icing might be too sweet, depending on what the monthly flavor is. However, what I can guarantee is that you cannot go wrong with their traditional french items. The DKA, though pricy for its size, truly highlighted the beauty of french technique.
Part 2: 2015
It has been two years and I must admit I am surprised that the cronut trend has not died down but is in fact growing. I felt like it was time to pay Dominique Ansel Bakery another visit, not to re-test the cronut, but to explore some of the other options. The time was 1:00 P.M. and the morning rush of cronut enthusiasts have long cleared the premises, leaving the bakery half empty. Knowing that I wanted something savory, my eyes landed on the ham and cheese croissant. It was generous in size with a shiny egg wash and a circle of encrusted cheese on top. I asked the assistant to heat it up and boy was that a good decision. As I torn off the first piece, I felt the slight pull of the warm croissant bread and the scent of warm savory goodness being released. The contrast between the slight sweetness of the bread and the saltiness of the white ham and gruyere cheese was divine, while the cheese crust on top added a nice touch.
Next I wanted something sweet. Many of the other customers were ordering the frozen s'mores stick, another faddish item that involves turkish ice cream encased in chocolate and marshmallow, blowtorched to order. I'm not saying it doesn't sound good, but I was interested in something a bit more delicate, something like the pink guava pavlova. It was quite a sight to behold. The base was a pink guava jam and above that was a thick layer of simple cream with a soaked sponge cake center hidden inside. Next came a thin layer of clear gelée topped with crushed pieces of sesame seed meringue. The taste was as complex and beautiful as the sight itself, with the sweetness of the pink guava being tamed by the milder cream, the coolness of the gelée matching with the warmth of the black sesame, and the softness of the cake contrasting with the thickness of its surroundings. There were so many layers to discover and the sweetness was never overpowering.
Leaving Dominique Ansel Bakery, I felt satisfied, but also irrationally worried. I realized how wonderful of a sensory experience it had been and I was scared that even though I could remember it viscerally at the moment, months or years from now I would probably forget the exact taste, the exact texture, and the exact smell. Maybe that was why I woke up the next morning and decided to revitalize this blog.
It was 6:00 A.M. August 19th, 2013. I thought we were early, after all, the door doesn't even open until two hours later, but the line had already wrapped around the block. This is the price you must be willing to pay for the cronut. A few months ago, Dominique Ansel presented this invention to the hungry, restless, awfully-fickle New York foodie scene. Classically trained and the once executive pastry chef at Daniel, Ansel decided to revamp the iconic American donut using croissant dough as the crux of the recipe. Remember, this is 2013, when donuts were on the rise and cupcakes were no longer the new black. Every bakeshop, from Donut Plant to Dough, was trying to do something novel with this morning favorite, experimenting with new flavors such as tres leches and hibiscus. Sure, changing the glaze may be one thing, but to take the humble donut and give it a complete french makeover is something almost unimaginable. Is this a stroke of genius or purely another fad? I had to find out.
The usual waiting time for the cronut is two and a half to three hours. It sounds awful, and it probably is if you're waiting by yourself or if it's the dead of winter. However, one thing that always sweetens the morning is the free mini madeleines the employees pass around. These are no ordinary madeleines. They're soft, pillowy, warm bundles of goodness that crumble at first bite and then melt in your mouth. Lightly dashed in powdered sugar, buttery with a hint of lemon, they're the epitome of the art of french baking. Simple and airy, these madeleines are nothing like the heavy, sugar-loaded giants you find in supermarkets.
At around 9:00 A.M. we finally made our way inside the narrow, but brightly lit bakery. Lined up along the counter was a head-spinning assortment of pastries and desserts, from the traditional plain and almond croissants to the luxiorious white peach blanc manger and raspberry beer cherry religieuse. Despite the overwhelming temptation to buy everything, we settled on a cronut each and a DKA and cannelle to share. Before the cronut craze overtook the bakery, it was the DKA that kept customers coming back for more. Standing for Dominique's Kouign Amman, it's a round pop-over-like cake made of croissant-like layers of butter and sugar. Hot from the oven with a crunchy caramelization on top, unbelievably soft with a slight chew on the inside, this was the pastry my life had been missing.
The canelé is also a french patisserie essential, though it is not widely familiar with the American public. With a thick caramelized exterior and a porous eggy custard center, the texture of this pastry was like nothing I have every tried before.
Finally the dessert we've all been waiting for (I actually ate DKA and canelé last, but I wanted to create a build up for you readers). Upon first sight, the cronut barely resembled a donut. Sure, it was ring-shaped and had icing on top, but besides that, it looked as french as any other pastry in the room. The monthly flavor was coconut and each cronut was topped with a delicate line of white icing and a sprinkle of dried coconut shaving. Biting in, I felt the crunch of the caramelized exterior, the soft pull of the buttery layers, and the gush of the sweet coconut cream filling. The dough was much like the dough of a croissant or DKA, while the cream was rich and milky. I thoroughly enjoyed the first half, but the second half started feeling a bit too sweet. Maybe it was the size, or maybe it was the top icing that made it too sugary, but the sugariness suddenly made it feel more American.
Part 2: 2015
It has been two years and I must admit I am surprised that the cronut trend has not died down but is in fact growing. I felt like it was time to pay Dominique Ansel Bakery another visit, not to re-test the cronut, but to explore some of the other options. The time was 1:00 P.M. and the morning rush of cronut enthusiasts have long cleared the premises, leaving the bakery half empty. Knowing that I wanted something savory, my eyes landed on the ham and cheese croissant. It was generous in size with a shiny egg wash and a circle of encrusted cheese on top. I asked the assistant to heat it up and boy was that a good decision. As I torn off the first piece, I felt the slight pull of the warm croissant bread and the scent of warm savory goodness being released. The contrast between the slight sweetness of the bread and the saltiness of the white ham and gruyere cheese was divine, while the cheese crust on top added a nice touch.
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