For every croissant there is a story
I had my first real croissant just about 13 years ago next month while visiting my husband’s aunt and uncle at their home, a refurbished 14th century gristmill sitting on a stream in the middle of the Loire River valley in France. It was a chocolate one. And I dipped it in a steaming bowl of café au lait as I sat in front of a roaring fire and wrote in my journal about how I was certainly not in Kansas anymore, Toto.
I know these details now because I recorded them in that journal then. There is no information on those pages, though, about how it was made. Only that it had arrived as part of that morning’s routine delivery from the bakery truck. Home croissant delivery? Only in France, I marveled.
Now that I have made them for myself, I can only marvel at the feat of the croissant even more.
It took us nearly three full days to pull these things off. On the first day we made the dough – a mixture of bread flour, milk, yeast, sugar, salt and shortening. Yes, I know. In France they reportedly use only butter. But Chef answered my query in that same vein with an explanation that, for first time croissant makers, the shortening would provide a more stable base. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll roll an entire pound of butter into that block of dough you’re holding.” That block – because it had not yet slowly risen in the fridge over night — was itself only the size of a pound of butter. Wow, a one-to-one butter-to-dough ration. I like that coverage.
The pound of butter
Rolling out the dough
On the second day, we had to roll out blocks into a two bench scraper by three bench scraper rectangle on the first pass, using the scraper not only as a measure but also as a straight edge to keep the edges straight and to score the dough in thirds so you can fold it evenly. At that point, you as the baker slices the pound of waxy butter (that is a state, not a variety, in which the butter is left at room temperature long enough to be pliable without being squishy), and lay it out on the center section. Then you roll and fold – careful not to let any of the butter escape from either the side of the dough or through ruptured butter bubbles on the edges of the dough — and chill. Incorporating the butter between the layers of dough is what gives a croissant its flaky layers. Wait 15 minutes. Roll and fold and chill. Wait 30 minutes (it was getting hot in the kitchen and we needed the extra time in the fridge to relax the gluten in the dough). And roll and fold and chill. And then you go home for the night.
Triangles that will roll up to be cresents.
What will fold up into pain au chocolate
On Day Three, we once again rolled it out. This time to a three-by-four scraper dimension, cut them, half in triangles to achieve the traditional shape, and half in rectangles that were folded in threes around chocolate chips. They all got a bit of an egg wash bath and went into the oven.
I don’t think any croissant could ever measure up in my head to that first one. But these were certainly close.
Croissants are one of my favorite indulgences. I may have one every six months or so. I have a new appreciation for them after reading what goes into making them! I had thought at one point that I’d like to make them myself. I’ve now rethought that bright idea.