I remember a time not long ago when one could casually stroll into a Starbucks and order with a butter croissant to accompany one's morning tea that sent the eater to momentary Heaven.
A flaky crust that was raised with nothing more than the heat of an oven and layers of butter and pastry shattered upon bite, and flavor danced on the tongue.
Not so with the croissant I bought this morning. Damp and spongy, today's croissant seemed to more closely resemble something that might be concocted by Little Debbie (no offense, Ms. Debbie, for in the realm of frosted snack cakes, you truly reign Queen).
I'll enjoy my tea this morning, but my croissant will be eaten only with great protest.
No comments:
Post a Comment