The perfect Croissant

On a cold February first I entered Toulouse main railways station for a daylong TGV trip. A trip that should provide more surprises and be rather longer then expected, but that at another time.

Having grown up in Germany and lived in Australia for a large part of my life, with extensive travel to Asia, Japan and South America, I have always regarded a Croissant as a lovely, flaky accompiament to a good cup of coffee in the morning, but could never see the same enthusiasm in it, as described in so many articles and books, the French do.

In fact I just had the Australian variety and, while nice, it just did not have the same appeal.

But at this frosty morning the wafting aroma of a patisserie stuck my nose and seeing all the beautiful, brownish, sometimes sugary concoctions of various creations from the bakers hands, I could not resist. I bought some Croissants.

I could not wait, I ripped open the paper bag, took out one of these flaky, buttery shapes, bit into it and....I could have died here and then. A flavour exploded in my mouth. Beneath the crust, of which small bits fell in small flakes to the tiled floor, was a flavour filled interior I never had expected from a simple croissant.

This was heaven and it did not take long until the second one went where the first one did.

Now I understand the fascination the French have with their creation and how.... this one delicious bite can make not only your day, but have your mouth watering after if for weeks to come.