Be Holed, the Cronut

Lemon Glazed and Cinnamon Sugar Croissant-Based Doughnuts

Last post, we looked at must-have goodies for a treat tray to take to El Jefe's house. There were chocolate chip cookies and fudgy finds, brownies, favorites and sure bets.

Then I got greedy and started messing around, for that is what happens if you go for the Cronut, butter and sugar go everywhere. My first inkling of this croissant-doughnut breakout star came from the British - who wondered (with longing) if the New York sensation of Dominique Ansel Bakery would cross the pond. You can read about it in The Guardian.

I checked with the talented and gifted Ellen Colon-Lugo, who knows her NYC from top to bottom, to see if she had heard of the new rage in town. Her European interns at Ellen Christine Millinery have joined the long line at the bakery ever since, hoping for a capture.  Like The Guardian's reporter I wondered, could you make a Cronut at home, and could you do it well enough for the boss?

The answer is yes, but.

To the question "would you make it again" the answer is no, but.

The real deal is a proprietary pastry for Chef Ansel and as such is a trade secret. The rest of us are just attempting a knock-off, and if you want to, the method I followed is from the KitchenSurfing blog. Please know going in that you can achieve a delicious combination of crunchy exterior and creamy, layered interior with a sugary glaze that seals the deal. Yes, you can make it, but should you?

My "yes, but" answer means that if you follow KitchenSurfing's method, you will get a show-stopping pastry that comes close to the superstar. (Let me know how the croissant dough works out; I used my own batch, long ago embraced from Gayle's Bakery in Capitola, California.)

That said . . .

My "no, but" answer is tied to three small points. The Cronut is 1. rolled in sugar; 2. filled with cream; and 3. topped with glaze (quoting from the bakery here). In short, if you make it, you daren't eat it.

Remember, it starts as croissant dough. Butter, butter everywhere.

Then it is deep-fried, sugared, creamed and glazed. Yes, I did eat it and certainly, it was magnificent. The richest indulgence ever. It is also a guilt-inducing madness of artistic genius and a marketing marvel, too. There isn't a person I've met who hasn't heard of the Cronut.

No I won't make it again, but it is a wowza.

Awright so if you're going to do it, I did learn a thing or two.

1. KitchenSurfing suggests you cut two circles (and two smaller circles out of the middle), then stack the two together. The dough rose just fine, but once it hit the hot oil, the top piece started to fry away from the bottom piece, that is, sort of topple over, lopsided. I could see it would never stack attractively, so I separated the two while they were still in the oil, and continued frying them as if they were doughnuts. As you see in the photo, they look like doughnuts, but that's OK because do you really want to put a pastry the height of two doughnuts in your mouth?

2. The Ansel Bakery uses grapeseed oil for frying, but I went with good old canola. Grapeseed is expensive, and this was only a test run, n'est-ce pas?

3. KitchenSurfing called for rolling the fried rings in a sugar/cinnamon combo, but it made them very sweet (and recall, there was still a glaze to come). I preferred the plain version.

4. KS also used a chocolate glaze, but that seemed in theory just too rich, so I used a lemon glaze from Heartbreak Recovery Kitchen. A hint of acid always helps sell the sugar. We're in the business of selling sugar, so a little acid is a must. (That's what lemon juice, buttermilk, sour cream and vinegar do). Jacquy Pfeiffer of the French Pastry School in Chicago told me that. He would know.

5. The Cronut's shelf life is short and does not include the refrigerator, so it will not make it on the treat tray.

Now the Canele de Bordeaux on the other hand . . . next time I give it the glory.