Alright, so earlier today, my fellow writers and I had a small meeting at a local "country French cafe," where we discussed assorted things relating to the group, drank coffee, and ate. Me, having never been to this place before, took it as an opportunity to try their coffee from an enthusiast's view, as well as their pastries.
Upon walking in, I noticed a fairly large window that led straight into a kitchen, where an employee was working on the preparation of baked goods, such as croissants, tarts, and the like. Once I was greeted by the cashier, I ordered a cup of coffee, a cappuccino, and a chocolate croissant, because it was the first thing that I saw in the pastry case.
Mug and croissant in hand, I returned to where my group members were sitting, and I went to fill my mug from the self-serve airpots where the coffee was stored. Sadly, the French roast I had filled my cup with had been sitting there for a little while. Oh well, from my barista knowledge, darker roasts are usually much less popular than lighter roasts, so I can understand why it was sitting there the longest. But that does not excuse them for not keeping up with a brewing cycle.
I return, wait a few moments, and my cappuccino was then brought out to me on a pretty damn fancy platter. The weight was more or less correct for a cappuccino, the foam was bueno, and the flavor was great.
But then, I picked up my aesthetically pleasing chocolate croissant, took a bite out of it, and realized that I could have died happily at that moment. That damn chocolate croissant was the best pastry, by far, I have ever consumed in my life. It was flaky, fresh, ever-so-slightly buttery, and decadently sweet. The amount of chocolate in it was not overpowering at all, and was metaphorically the cherry on the top of the already gorgeous cake.
This chocolate croissant put me in a trance of joy, while I pretty much zoned out and devoured it in a minute or so, as I half-listened to my group members talk while I'd occasionally blurt out, "This is a gooooood croissant." And they would just stare at me, wondering what croissants had to do with writing articles about politics and whatnot.
Now, I have had a few chocolate croissants in my life, and this one would destroy all the others combined by a country mile. The chocolate croissants I normally eat were usually nothing bad, and quite edible. But when compared to this magical croissant, they taste like stale and somehow chewy bread, with some 8-month-old Nutella, that was put in the pantry with the lid not all the way on, spread across it. You can really taste the difference between factory-made chocolate croissants and the kind that come from a place where the pastry chef puts about an ounce of love in each and every single croissant. One of the things that upsets me is that both croissants cost the same.
Oh, and the cafe had some pretty great bread with some equally good jam options.