A sudden urge of cooking got hold of me when I came home from abroad. I've usually been disastrous at cooking, mostly because of the self induced stress that comes from being terrified of failure. Embarking on a croissant-adventure would have been the last thing on my mind even a year ago, but I've matured a lot since then.
These turned out somewhere in between doughnuts and croissants, but nevertheless, they tasted heavenly. It was probably due to the amount of butter which was way out of proportion to the rest of the ingredients. As Julia Child always used to say: "There is no such thing as too much butter." (Or did she? I do at least.)
I have my most important realizations from cooking when I'm about to do that thing that I know in my heart will go terribly wrong. All my experiences from painting, especially the ones about thinking one step ahead, seem to leave my mind. When the recipe says unsalted butter, then they mean unsalted butter. Not even cooking offers the opportunity to defy the laws of physics. Sadly.
