Je cherche un croissant

I have been stressing over money, jobs and my trip to France in two weeks!  I am so excited to go back to Europe and visit all of my dear friends, but I am also broke like no joke. 

My stress level along with the reality that I didn’t have any food in the apartment led me to satisfy a craving for something special.  A buttery croissant obviously (I realize it’s really not that obvious to most–just go with it).  The problem: I have never had an authentically delicious, crispy, lick-your-fingers buttery croissant outside of France.  I thought that perhaps NYC, with its many cultural riches, would be the place to find one, but so far no luck.  I must preface that statement by noting that since I have moved here, I have not eaten a whole lot of croissants; hell, I havent been eating much of anything exciting (oatmeal is my budget-friendly meal).  Still, I know just by looking at a croissant if it is worthy.  Most are not.  

My croissant must be crispy on the outside, buttery on the inside and flaky enough to fall apart as I break off the ends and dunk them into my coffee.   

With my craving growing, my mind suddenly remembered a little place I had once stumbled upon in SoHo.  I had been walking home in the rain and took a random dip inside a pâtisserie to eat a fruit tarte I saw in the window.  I was blown away by the feeling I got when I walked into Ceci Cela.  Maybe it was the smell, or the fact that the man waiting on me had a strong French accent, but the place had a European flair I have not yet found in America.  

So this morning I took the detour on the way to work and ordered two croissants. With the butter visibly soaking spots on the bag, I realized I couldn’t wait for the office to dig in (I sort of knew this would happen–my reason for ordering two).  I never thought food could change my mood so quickly but it did.  Right there, walking up Lexington Avenue, I was transported back to France, back to a place that I cherish.  Sitting at my favorite café, dipping my flaky croissant into un café and making small talk with the cute waiter…then I hear the New York accented cat-calls from the construction workers and realize I was indeed still in this crazy city. 

Long story not so short, need a croissant? A truly delicious taste of France?  Head to Ceci Cela mes amis! Laurent Dupal really knows how to do it right.  And when you’re a girl in NYC, not really sure what you are doing with your life, a croissant can take the edge off…if only for un moment.

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