Croissant.
You know how to say it correctly, but you never know whether you should.
Today, the answer is oui. One thousand times oui…
Rise and shine for Croissanteria, a bright little East Village boîte where you’ll while away a
morning over strong coffee and flaky, layered rolls, now open.
Not a complicated concept here. It’s just going to be you, a lengthy morning, maybe a newspaper, the human
parade of Avenue A, a cup of Brooklyn Roasting Company’s special blend for the place and a green
tea/cranberry swirl croissant. The point being: take some “you” time here.
The first thing you’ll notice walking in is the big clock. It’s antique. It’s British. Tells time with
the best of them. There’s a marble counter to your left. Order a croissant at it—apricot, chocolate,
cinnamon swirl, hazelnut—hell, why not all of the above. Now sit. Your instinct’ll
be to break in that velvet-cushioned synagogue pew. Follow it.
Once lunch rolls around, you might feel like it’s time to go and do some work or something. That’s just
silly. Have the salmon baguette. It’s the same salmon they’ve got at Russ & Daughters. The owner’s
family smokes the stuff. When someone else walks in, face contorted in deliberation at the menu, tell them
that.
See, you’re a regular already.
