I’m on vacation this week, so here is a little dispatch I wrote about six months ago! The photo is actually of a pistachio croissant. It was also delicious (My daughter clearly thought so too). Enjoy!
Every morning this week, I bought an almond croissant. Or maybe not every morning, but three mornings in a row. I wondered this morning, as I stood in line in the cafe, if they judge me there for my almond croissant intake. The cafe is hip, or at least hip-adjacent. It’s in a garage and in addition to selling coffees and croissants, it sells shirts and socks. The only tables are outside, in a pandemic shed covered haphazardly with a tarp. This morning it was pouring rain and I stood outside in a line waiting to buy my croissant. Three runners, soaked through, stood nearby, sipping their post-run coffees. A woman with two small dogs ordered a latte. When it was my turn, I sheepishly asked about the almond croissants. Did they have one left? They did. I bought it. The man behind the cash register put it in a small brown bag and I tucked it into my tote.
When I finally sat down at my desk with my cup of tea I was dizzy with hunger. It was 9:30 and I’d been up since 6:00, had had coffee and water but no food. It’s how the almond croissant habit had formed. I am ravenous these days, hungrier than ever but with less time to eat. The mornings have a choreography that has not come to include food. My husband and I drink coffee while my toddler runs back and forth across the apartment. We each take a turn playing with her while the other one does dishes, picks up the house, takes a shower. There are a set of tasks that must be completed before either of us can leave and we try to have them done by 8:30 so one of us can get out of the house a bit before the babysitter comes. I have stupidly not made breakfast one of these tasks.
My husband eats heartily after he leaves the house. He regularly gets pancakes and eggs and bacon at a nearby restaurant while he goes through his emails. That has never been my way. Almond croissants are my way. They are expensive, yes, but caloric and big. The almond-ness of them somehow seems robust if not healthy. I am always satisfyingly full after I finish, even if there is also the tiniest bit of shame there too. This is not a proper breakfast. This is not muesli or granola or avocado toast. It is decadent and gluttonous. Full of sugar. You aren’t supposed to have three a week.
But I do.