Just a note before I launch into this particular rave: I don’t really like bread. My infatuation with a good croissant, however, is not a passing flirtation, no, it is a fierce white-knuckle fucking love. When I was a child, my parents offered them to me as an ultimate treat, as fulfilling in their way as a the sugary deathbomb ambrosia in the center of a Cadbury Cream egg. Food of the gods, my overly literary five year old self would have told you, the cheap chocolate equivalent of the Norse apples of life.
Most croissants are not up to par. They are substandard, greasy crescents of gluey, papery, crumbling pastry, not worth the hot chocolate it takes to save them. A proper croissant is a treasure, a warm, smooth bread, delicately crunchy to bite into, tender yet satisfying to chew. Buying them from a grocery store just isn’t going to cut it. Most bakeries, in fact, don’t even dish out. That said, the delectable croissants at Au Kouign-Amann, (322 Avenue Du Mont-Royal Est, Montréal), blew my head off. One bite and I was dissolved, transparent, lost in the buttery, flaky heaven that had just taken me hostage.
Tony and I tried their cranberry shortbread tarts, blueberry shortbread tarts, chocolate croissants, and plain croissants, liking best the cranberry tart, as the sharpness of the berry contrasted well with the richness of the shortbread, and the plain croissants, as we found the taste of the chocolate too distracting from the flawless pastry. We would have tried the bakery’s namesake kouign amann, but we got there later in the day, and they were out.
The red Au Kouign-Amann storefront on Avenue du Mont-Royal, right by St. Denis, in small and unpretentious and easy to walk by, but you mustn’t. You need to go inside and examine their tiny, pretty, shortbread cranberry cakes, their immaculate almond flake tarts, or their perfect croissants, pick out slightly more than you think you should eat, making certain to try one of each of the shiniest, most delectable offerings in the cabinet, then settle into one of the two cozy tables in the window, turn off your cellphone, and prepare to be transported to bliss by the power of warm, fresh bread alone.