Croissant Quotes

“There is no overtime, and I had to use the potion in the bathroom.” Valen’s cheeks begin to turn pink. Tisha hums. She already knows the story, but she’s not going to give up the details.

I round on Valen. “Did you get caught spanking the monkey?”

Dane snickers. “Valen squeezed his lemon at the airport?”

“I did not squeeze my lemon or spank a monkey.” He huffs and crosses his arms. “If you must know, I had an incident with a breakfast croissant.”

I pinch my eyebrows together. “You used your potion on someone who heard you take a crap?”

His eyes narrow. “It was a bad croissant.”
― Rory Miles, Shadow Slayer

“The front desk man is a spy for a famous French chef, hoping to stealing the pastry recipes of the shop down the street. And the lovely shop girl who just delivered a box of-- what is most certainly-- pastries is his secret accomplice. The note she passed him while blushing has a recipe for the perfect croissant.”
― Jessica Lawson

“With a quick thank-you, I focused my attention on the pastry he brought. The flavors melted in my mouth- warm chocolate and melted butter and the flaky sweet crust. This was what I loved about France. A keen appreciation for the simplicity and sweetness of life. The French seemed to savor their minutes along with their food.”
― Melanie Dobson, Chateau of Secrets

“He opened the small brown bag and held it toward her, and she could smell the butter. Notably, though, there was no grease soaking the bottom of the bag, like when Mom brought home donuts. She peered in.
"I think it's a croissant. And a chocolate croissant. And some kind of roll. And some other thing I didn't know what it was."
"Chausson aux pommes," Rosie said, pulling it from the bag. She was pretty sure anyway- it had the distinctive half-moon shape, and the slashes on top let her see a peek of what looked like apple filling.
"What's that?"
Rosie stilled as Henry shifted closer to her. He was just looking at the pastry, and she knew that, but still. He was close, and he smelled warm, and sleepy. And male.
"It's kind of like an apple croissant," she said, ignoring the rapid rise of her heartbeat. "Or an apple strudel. An apple turnover, I guess."
"Try it."
"You should have the first bite. You got it."
"I insist," Henry said, and he wouldn't take it from her. So she bit in, and the pastry flaked instantly, then yielded into sweet, soft cinnamon apples. It was so good that she had to imagine this would be the best thing she'd try today. But then Henry was grinning, chocolate smeared on his face, and he passed her the pain au chocolat, and she thought that had to be the best thing. But then the classic croissant was so perfect, each layer of lamination distinct, and then the brioche was dangerously rich, yet so light at the same time, and the éclair's filling was perfectly smooth, and the baguette made Rosie rethink what, exactly, the stuff she'd been eating for the last sixteen years was, because it couldn't possibly be bread, not like this...”
― Stephanie Kate Strohm, Love à la Mode