April - Running & pastries

A long run, the last one before my first half marathon. The watch shows 15, I come to a halt, the legs wobbly, big smile on my face. A few stretches, gulps of water, then a perfect oat milk cappuccino. Feeling on top of the world.

We’ve done this run a few times before. It’s almost become like a little Sunday ritual. The route is beautiful. Around Greenwich park, along the river, arrive at Borough market just before it opens. Rewards in the form of delicious coffee and pastries. I might even miss this after the half. Maybe I just keep going?

Now let’s talk about pastries.

I recently came across this article in the Guardian that was talking about the “Crookie”. A hybrid between a croissant and a cookie. Basically, a croissant cut open, filled and topped with cookie dough, then baked again.

Long queues in front of the Paris bakery that came up with the mash up, and hundreds of recipe creators on Instagram and TikTok recreating the “Crookie” speak of the success of the invention.

And whilst I appreciate the idea, I am more of a purist when it comes to pastries. A perfectly layered, flakey, buttery croissant is all it needs to make me happy on a weekend morning.

Don’t get me wrong, every now and then I might also go for a pain au raisin and even have a bite of Harry’s pain au chocolat or try the seasonal danish. But 9 out of 10 times, to me there’s nothing better than a perfectly crunchy yet soft, simple croissant. It gives me the greatest pleasure to sit and tear, and munch and admire the craft that creates those buttery layers.

Back to our run last Sunday.

When we get to Borough Market, usual coffee in hand, we feel adventurous, up to try something new. So we stand in line and order wildly: Pistachio pain au chocolat. Not the best looking pastry ever. But I need some sugar and that bakery has been hyped for years.

I pay £5 and feel the weight of the beast in the little paper bag. Imagine a classic pain au chocolat, filled with pistachio frangipane. I take the first bite. The craft is there, the pastry flakey. Their croissant must be delicious, I think to myself. Another bite. Sweet pistachio filling. Then chocolate. Harry tries it. We look at each other a little bit disappointed, but also as if we’d known before. Too sweet, too much. Kind of tasty, but not worth the price.

I’m looking forward to Saturday. I will buy my croissant again and munch and tear and admire. And feel joyful.