The Bakery I'd Move Streets For
I've driven forty minutes for a croissant, which is either romantic or a personality disorder depending on who you ask. This is that croissant. It's a six-table bakery with a line out the door by 8:15 and a chalkboard that changes with whatever fruit is good that week.
The Lamination
You can see the layers before you bite it — that's the tell. Whoever runs the ovens here understands that a croissant should be structurally dramatic. It makes a mess. Wear something dark and accept it.
Timing Everything
First bake lands at 7:30, second around 10:30. The morning buns and danishes go first; the plain croissants last longest. Weekends the line is twenty deep by 9am. Weekday mornings you can walk right in.
Where to Eat It
There are six tables and you will not get one. Walk two blocks to the park, sit on the low wall in the sun, and eat with your hands. It's better that way anyway.
What I ate, dish by dish
Scored the same way as everything else on this site — honestly, and with the understanding that not every plate deserves your money.
- Plain Croissant$59.8
Shatters when you touch it, honeycomb interior, tastes overwhelmingly of butter. The whole argument for this place.
- Morning Bun$5.509.6
Cardamom and orange sugar. Gone by 10am every single day. Set an alarm.
- Ham & Gruyère Danish$89.2
Savory, laminated, ridiculous. A full breakfast disguised as a pastry.
- Seasonal Fruit Galette$79.0
Whatever's in season. The apricot one in May was better than most desserts I've paid $16 for.
- Country Sourdough Loaf$109.4
Dark, blistered crust, sour but not aggressive. Buy it on the way out, not on the way in.
- Cappuccino$58.5
Solid, not the reason you came. Take it outside and sit on the bench.
