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Cronuticus Maximus, AKA the cronut, is a delectable hybrid of a croissant and donut, developed by Chef Dominique Ansel and sold at his Soho bakery. Today, I ventured out into the city to discover this world of unknown, delectable delights, either to be impressed…or disappointed.
6:00 am – I wake up. The alarm clock was set for 6:30, but I couldn’t sleep because of my excitement.
6:45 am – Out of the house and off to Soho.
7:30 am – Approaching 189 Spring Street. A line is already in progress. A very long line.
I asked the first couple in line what time they had arrived. 5:00 am. As I walk past the line, and turn the corner, I maintain focus on my head count. Turn right. UGH…the line is just as long on the other side of the building. I arrive as the 90th person (+/- 2), lost focus, but still in good shape.
Well if my calculations are correct, with only 200 prepared a day, with a limit of 2 per person, I was sure to snag a cronut (or two).
With a 30 minute wait til doors, the conversation with people in line starts. From gossip, mostly started by me, about the cronut scalpers, to our chances of not getting a cronut, to their other pastries, to yesterday’s National Donut Day, there was plenty of discourse on Cronuticus Maximus.
‘The line’s moving!’ someone stated…falsely. Seriously, this is just as bad as yelling ‘Fire!’ in a crowded room. Another lady advised her friend ‘Do not sell your spot!’.
‘I was only going to buy one.’ Said no one…EVER. Well, I was planning on only buying one, but then I thought about the effort I had made to get here, then decided, that was probably one of the stupidest thoughts to have ever popped up in my head.
The line moves steadily. A lady with a bag of dog poop waves it in front of another lady as she hands it over to a friend. Appetite is still intact.
The line moves again, so close, but they stop us just before the last person gets in. DOH! No worries, the line moves in chunks, and we’ll be the first in the next batch.
After a 10 minute wait, I start to get alarmed. They haven’t let anybody else in. This is serious. Then Chef Ansel comes out. “We have a limited amount…’ he says, and my heart stops. But then, he let’s us in. PHEW!
He’s also starting to become a celebrity, as people, including myself wanted to get their photos taken with him. Oh dear…have I become a croupie?
The remaining cronuts beckon and taunt me, they’re ready for my yearning grasp…well only 2 of them that is.
Alas! I have claimed my cronuts, which have been placed in a pretty gold package, this box could become very famous.
With a cup of coffee, these babies are ready for devouring…
Fork and knife sliced first bite was…okay. Then that tangy, lemon cream surprises you. I’m not a fan of cream, so I was confused. The crust was a little too crispy at first bite. I’m still not sure about the cream. It’s okay, but I don’t know. Then after a moment, something weird happened. I put the knife and fork down and picked up the cronut with my hands like a real woman would. I took a bite and that’s when I had my Cronuticus Maximus moment. That’s the key! You need to eat the cronut with your hand. The dough seems too crispy with utensils, you need to just bite down and use what God gave you, because that’s when the sensation of dough chewiness with the lemon zing starts to party…in your mouth! And it gets even better with their awesome coffee.
It was amazeballs! My cronut curiosity has been satiated, somewhat. Bacon…this thing needs bacon on top. But I was saddened to find out that Chef Ansel is not a fan of the savory, as someone else had suggested a maple bacon version. My dreams…shattered. Well, who says I can’t buy my own bacon and do that part myself? Problem solved!
So, my adventures in the cronut fascination is complete. Next up…sleep!