Croissant Day!

or, The Opposite Of Being Burnt-Out Is Being Unbelievably Corny

Yes, this will be my Tinder picture

I started making croissants during the pandemic, and more than anything else it’s been making croissants that has led me to where I am today (stuck in an un-air-conditioned apartment during a 100 degree heat wave hanging polyester jackets to dry in my shower and loving every minute of it).

I started making croissants for lots of reasons: because I love croissants and good ones were very hard to find in DC; because croissants are really hard, and I love a challenge, but mostly because croissants make people happy. I lived alone during the hardest, scariest days of the pandemic, when we were Lysoling our groceries and wearing masks outside, and I felt so disconnected from the world. I started making croissants (and croissant-adjacent things, like pain au chocolat and morning buns and danishes) and dropping them off at people’s front doors. At a time when we couldn’t be together, it felt like a way to connect and be useful, which is my favorite thing to be. No one has ever been mad to open their front door and find viennoiserie waiting for them.

So it’s an understatement to say that I was excited about croissant day, and today it finally arrived. I taught myself how to make them with YouTube videos, a Tartine cookbook, and a generous butter budget, but to learn actual techniques from the masters was one of my main motivations for coming.

Croissant Paparazzi

And Croissant Day did not disappoint. In one practice session, my technique improved 10-fold. The chef complimented me on some of the things I’d been doing and corrected me on others. We nerded out on proofing strategies. He let me use the dough sheeter. It was magnificent. I think mine at home taste better - I use my sourdough starter for leavening, and let everything take more time - but he taught me a ton of stuff I can bring back.

My babies

It was also Brioche Day. Croissant dough is basically just brioche dough laminated with butter, so they’re related arts. On some days, brioche would get top billing, but on Croissant Day it’s hard to compete.

Brioche Parisienne, proving

At the end of the class, when the chef was coming around grading, he didn’t have anything more to add, and I got my first 5/5. It feels unbelievably corny to care about these grades. I barely cared about grades when they mattered a little, and these don’t matter even a little. No one will ever ask for my pastry school transcripts. But the 5 made me feel incredible. To be recognized by experts as being good at something you love is an honor. Maybe the opposite of being burnt-out is being unbelievably corny again. If that’s the price of it, it seems worth paying.