Levi S.
Google
"The Croissant that Promised Everything"
It was a cold morning in St Pete's. Uncommonly cold for Florida, even in January. Wind whipped my face as cold misty teeth bit at my finger tips. As I shuffled down Central Ave, the unmistakeable smell of coffee slipped by almost undetected in the driving wind. My pace quickened. I searched in vain from one shop window to the next. Hope was fading, when at last, Bandit Coffee came into view.
As I opened the door, I was immediately greeted by the friendly chatter and warmth of the coffee shop. Any worry that this was a cruel but convincing apparition slowly melted away. I got in line, which moved quickly.
As I neared the counter I noticed a strange and amazing box prominently mounted on it. Glass walls bursting with the brilliance and scintillation of a diamond illuminating the pastry possibilities held within. I scanned the case as my mind began searching my deepest desires... salty? savory? buttery? sweet? What do I really, truly want? And then my eyes stopped. "Everything"... I read it again... slowly recognizing the answer.
But this was no bagle shop. And this sign sat confidently in front of a croissant. And that's when it dawned on me... this was in fact an "everything croissant". At first this seemed unnatural... a blasphemous jest. But as my initial recoil subsided i realized that my long standing love for the croissant (best made near sea level in high humidity) is only equalled by my loyalty to the bodega staple that is an Everything Bagel with chive cream cheese.
I took my coffee and left.
But the Everything Croissant followed me. It showed up in my dreams, and every time i considered what to eat for a meal. In the most unexpected times and places it returned to tempt me.
On the 3rd day I gave in to my curiosity and longing... and this is my review.
The croissant, rather large and heavier than would be expected, responds to the finger tips with a delicate crunch as it is lifted from the box. The layers, buttery and light, separate neatly like delicate pages of an antique Bible. Reminiscent of the finest baklava, the layers release a buttery sweetness as I tear a manageable portion away. Peeling away layers like a good therapy session, I reveal the chive cream cheese buried deep within. Words fail to describe the chive-iness, but suffice it to say that it was really, really good... and chive-y.
I found myself feeling very satiated, and, having enough left to share with a friend, was able to leave with a full stomach as well as a renewed kinship with my fellow man.
Will definitely be back for more croissants.
Review dedicated to 'M'