I’ve never understood the hoopla surrounding croissants. Perhaps that’s because there appear to be more mediocre versions than stellar ones. I do recall eating, and enjoying, a just-baked flaky croissant with a dab of homemade raspberry preserves on my first trip to Paris when I was 18, but my memory dulls after that.

While widely associated with France, the croissant’s origin can actually be traced back to Austria, where a crescent-shaped pastry called Kipferl existed since at least the 13th century. It was a denser and less flaky pastry, which might be why the French eventually adapted it by using puff pastry and the labor-intensive steps of layering dough and butter multiple times in a process called lamination. The result was, in its finest iteration, the flaky, buttery croissant that we know today.

Not too long ago, the New York Times devoted an entire column to the “21 Best Croissants in New York City Right Now.” Out of the 21, I was only interested in those examples that were most recognizable as the classic French pastry. Each one was a little different than the next, but some were far-fetched versions with toppings and fillings that didn’t amount to what one would recognize as a croissant. To name a handful of the more traditional ones that were mentioned in the article: La Bergamote in Chelsea bakes a crab-shaped specimen with a tender, delicate flake. The Lafayette Grand Café and Bakery in NOHO makes a croissant that is crisp and pillowy and deeply bronzed in color. Pave in Midtown produces a light and crispy pastry using high-quality European butter; these are believed to be good for sandwiches. Runner and Stone in Gowanus uses leavened sourdough, which means a deeper, more interesting flavor; they are small in size but outstanding in quality. Bench Flour Bakers in Astoria, Queens, has no experimental shapes or quirky fillings, just great croissants that are a little smaller and denser than some. Aux Merveilleux de Fred, with three locations, at the most reasonable price of $4, offers softer and flatter versions than some, and they are flaky and buttery sweet. The rest of the lot were simply croissants of someone’s imagination.

Oddly, I thought, the New York Times also had a column on Christmas Day of last year called “Croissants with a Sense of Occasion.” This article suggested supermarket croissants as the base for inventive dishes such as “Cheese Danish Bread Pudding,” using torn croissant pieces soaked in a mixture of eggs, brown sugar, evaporated milk, vanilla extract and lemon zest. At some point, softened cream cheese, egg yolk, granulated sugar and lemon juice were incorporated, and the mixture scraped into a loaf pan. After baking, berry preserves were ladled down the middle of the loaf, which was then drizzled with a thin “sauce” of powdered sugar mixed with heavy cream. The resulting “concoction” was nauseating looking—gloppy and ultra-sweet, particularly because of the sugar glaze, which hurts my teeth just writing about it. The other recipe was something called “Sheet-pan Eggs with Croissant Bread Crumb Nests.” Need I say more?

I am not much of a sweet eater, and rarely have French toast or waffles for breakfast, but a perfectly executed croissant sandwich, perhaps briefly warmed in the oven, comes to mind. Now, where to get a real croissant in Sullivan County, NY? I searched on Google and was surprised and not surprised to find that Spruce Home Goods in Callicoon carries them. If any purveyor in this area would be the one to procure such an unusual, difficult-to-find food item, it would be David Tew. When I went to the store to ask about the croissants, he pointed to a basket laden with half a dozen bronzed, flaky-looking pastries. “Who bakes them?” I asked. “They are flown in from Normandy (France), where they make them, flash freeze them, and then we bake them here,” came the unexpected answer. I lifted one up and inhaled the scent of butter and could see the perfect light layers of lamination achieved. 

I made three different sandwiches to share for breakfast. The recipes for each are below, but as I put them together, more and more combinations came to mind. Chicken salad, either traditional or curried, would make a terrific room-temperature sandwich, as would the “Caprese” version of fresh mozzarella, sliced tomatoes from the garden, julienned fresh basil and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar. The three I made all had cheese on them, so I warmed them, loosely wrapped in foil, in the oven at 350 degrees Fahrenheit and set on a baking sheet, so the cheese would melt a bit. I set the timer for 10 minutes, then opened the foil packets so the crust would crisp up. They were delicious and unusual. And I began to understand the croissant craze.