Earlier this week, my friend La Duchesse invited me for coffee at Fous Desserts, a tiny patisserie and chocolaterie on rue Laurier, a couple of blocks east of the métro station. For some reason, I'd never gone in, in spite of passing the storefront many times on my way to the métro.
What an omission.
We had coffee, which was excellent, and split two sable cookies - one, a Breton, was simply crunchy, perfectly cooked sugar and butter; the other was more refined: a thin chocolate wafer with some sort of crunchy inclusions, topped with a dark chocolate glaze and a hint of raspberry. But these little delicacies weren't the discovery of the day.
That belongs to the croissants, which have been rated the best in the city. I took home two, and J. and I ate them together. Silently. Ecstatically. And that was in the evening, half a day after the croissants had been made.
This morning, which was quite cold, we bundled up and rode our bikes along a detour from our usual studio route, in order to stop at Fous Desserts to buy two more freshly-made croissants. After purchasing them we looked around the shop at their other offerings, every one of which looks pretty much to die for.
I stayed to take a few photos while J. rode back to the studio. You'd better hurry, he said, putting the bag into his backpack.
I got there just in time.
In the meantime, if you'd like to see the master bakers of Fous Desserts in action, here's a video (there are more at the website). It's a dangerous place. You've been warned.