After months of reading reviews about Dominique Ansel Bakery and observing the proliferation of competing doughnuts in bakeries all over the world, I was desperate to get my hands on one.
Obtaining a cronut in New York is a big commitment—the line outside the bakery starts forming at 6 a.m. and even after a potential three-hour wait next to hordes of tourists, you’re still not cronut guaranteed. As a typical New Yorker, I put too much value on my spare time, so you may understand why the cost of a cronut-less wait never seemed worth it, despite the rave reviews.
That being said, in August, a co-worker discovered that we could place a large order in advance. She emailed our entire office to coordinate, and I was (embarrassingly) the very first response, with a record two-second reply time of “YES I’LL TAKE TWO.”
Two months later our cronuts arrived in the building. I realize this wait time sounds almost unfair, but I assure you that it still felt more manageable than waiting in line for two-to-three hours.
Any pastry that has its own trademark, has sparked an international following, and has its own thriving black market and Craigslist scalpers is something special. Needless to say, I was feeling pretty damn important sharing my cube with a perfect apple creme fraiche cronut this morning. I carried it through the office like an Olympic torch.
Let me tell you what it’s like to take your first bite of a hybrid doughnut-croissant that is rolled in vanilla rose sugar, stuffed with caramelized apple compote and creme fraiche ganache filling, and topped with cinnamon glaze and a dried apple chip. I carried my cronut back to my meeting with triumph and debated my plan of attack, while I ignored onlookers longing eyes. Never share a cronut. It was amazing. I think I blacked out because I remember nothing from my meeting and everything about my victorious breakfast.
Layered, flaky, and moist like a croissant, minus the messy shedding, the cronut comprises the best parts of a croissant and a doughut. There was a perfect balance of cream filling, so you could appreciate the apple flavor without it overwhelming the consistency and taste of the doughnut itself. I ate every last melt-in-your-mouth bite and contemplated licking my plate in public.
Is it worth the hype? Absolutely. Is it worth a three-hour line for a maximum of only 2 doughnut per person? Debatable. I’m eager to test the competition and see how special the cronut truly is within this new class of pastry.
The Bitches say: A for a true art form of a breakfast dessert, and a novelty that changed the way we all think about doughnuts (Sorry, Dunkin’!) If you like sweet treats, this will blow your mind. If you don’t like dessert, it probably won’t convert you. The hype is justified, but the three-hour wait is not.
Dominique Ansel Bakery
189 Spring St
New York, NY
Dominique Ansel Bakery is open 8 a.m. to 7 p.m., Monday through Saturday, and 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. on Sundays