Croissants are my holy grail. So far, my attempts at the elusive flaky confection of air and butter are more non than oui.
I keep trying.
The last batch was under-proofed and too dense to eat. First batch, the dough was close but I ran out of European butter and added a patch of the regular stuff. Some of those croissants were edible, some leaked butter.
I made them for Brat – sort of. At the last minute we tried to turn them into Pan au Chocolate. After Brat picked out the chocolate we tossed the leaden blobs of bread.
Todays batch wasn’t much better. I was patient with the proof, followed the instructions which called for the triple expansion of dough. Missed the jiggle the recipe called for and thought maybe, just maybe, I was about to bake real croissants.
Yeah, not yet. Over-proofed. Those puppies lost an inch and came out of the oven in a pool of butter. The only one impressed with the bake was Roxy. That dog would levitate for a stick of butter.
So I’m back to sourdough. Especially sourdough with roasted garlic and rosemary.
But sooner, or later, I’ll try again. The dog will whine with anticipation, and my oh-so-smart sweetheart will head outside, far, far away from the danger zone.