People get a kick out of saying, when you mention you didn’t finish all the wine or cheese, “What’s leftover wine?!” or “What’s leftover cheese?” Don’t get me wrong. I love wine, but if I drank a whole bottle of wine every time I wanted just a glass, I’d be ready for rehab. If we ate all the cheese I brought back from the fromagerie in one sitting, not only would I have to go back to the cheese shop every day to restock, but my doctor would fret even more about health concerns, which is somewhat of an obsession here.
I was really surprised when I went to my first dinner party in France and, when the cheese plate that was going around the table came to me and I took several generous portions, the fellow next to me, the male version of Debbie Downer, remarked that I should be worried about my cholesterol. And here I’d thought that I’d landed in the land of unbridled eating!
On the other hand, I bought this sausage the other day, which appears to be at least 40% fat…so not everyone’s concerned about that...
Now that I’ve broken the golden rule about recipe-writing, namely, don’t talk about things that will make people not want to make the recipe, I’m going to tell you why you should make it: It’s because these croissants aux amandes (that I made with Yotam Ottolenghi the other day) are really fun to make, and one of my favorite things to eat. And I think they’ll be yours, too.
If you have a bakery, leftovers is a bad word and the last thing you want to have is leftover croissants. They’re a high-cost, high-labor, but low-priced item (in France, they cost around €1,30/$1.40), especially considering what goes into making them. (Ditto with baguettes; the average profit on a baguette for a bakery comes out to 8 to 10 cents per baguette.) That, coupled with the French penchant for being thrifty, has resulted in the creation of the croissant aux amandes.
Made from leftover croissants—which yes, is a thing; there’s even a bakery in Paris that sells only leftover breads and pastries…
…the day-olds are split in half, soaked with syrup, smeared inside and out with almondy frangipane, then baked until golden brown.
These are from my book L’Appart, a book that I wasn’t sure people would read. It’s about the ups and downs of living in Paris. When I bought my first apartment in Paris and began renovating it, I was expecting all would go well. When things started sliding in the opposite direction, I remained optimistic.
When I almost lost my life, things got real. I wasn’t sure people would be interested in that story about Paris—it wasn’t about buying fancy butter at La Grande Épicerie or discovering the best éclair in Paris—but it felt right to be honest about what happened, as I tried to create a permanent life for myself in Paris. But boy, was that an education!
Thankfully, a few years passed, and I was eventually able to look at the situation through a different lens; it happened, and I moved on. But it was a situation that was also very French. As an architect told me afterward, 90% of renovations go wrong here, and the other 10% of people are lying.
The story, and the book, caught on, and the book became a hit with readers and has also been optioned for a television series. So we’ll see what happens. As I learned from L’Appart, you can never tell how things are going to work out.
One of the ups of Paris that I included in the book is croissants aux amandes. And I can tell you from experience that these croissants aux amandes are going to work out, and yours will look just as good as the ones you get in Paris, without any of the downs.
I’ve nicknamed these Slippery Slopes because once you start eating them, you can’t stop. Some bakeries even put chunks of chocolate inside before baking, which I’ve never done, because one thing I never have leftover is chocolate.
Croissants aux amandes
Adapted from L’Appart
These now-classic French pastries are made in bakeries using day-old croissants. At home, you can use whatever croissants you can get your hands on. They don’t need to be extra fancy, but you do want to use ones made with pure butter, which have the best flavor.
The liquor is a nice addition to the syrup, but if you’re avoiding alcohol, a small amount of orange flower water is a good substitution, or you can infuse a vanilla bean in the syrup or add some extract.
Syrup
1/2 cup (125ml) water
1/4 cup (50g) granulated sugar
2 tablespoons dark rum, amaretto, or kirsch (optional, but recommended)
Frangipane
1/2 cup (50g) almond flour (powdered almonds)
1/4 cup (50g) granulated sugar
1 large egg, at room temperature
3 1/2 tablespoons (50g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
A few drops pure almond extract
Pinch of salt
4 day-old croissants
1/2 cup (40g) sliced almonds
Powdered sugar
Make the syrup by heating the water and sugar in a medium saucepan until the mixture comes to a boil, stirring occasionally. When the sugar is dissolved, remove from heat, let cool to room temperature, then add the liquor.
Preheat the oven to 375ºF (190ºC). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone baking mat.
Make the frangipane by beating the almond flour, sugar, egg, butter, almond extract, and salt in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or by hand) at medium-to-high speed until the frangipane is light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
Slice each croissant in half horizontally, stopping just before you reach the other side, leaving it with a hinge to open and close it. Place them on the prepared baking sheet. Liberally brush the insides, both top and bottom, with the syrup. You want to make sure both sides are completely saturated with the syrup. Don’t be shy—even if you think it’s too much, really saturate the croissants. French bakers dunk the entire croissant in a big vat of sugar syrup.
Smear the inside of each croissant with 2 tablespoons of the frangipane. Press down firmly on each croissant so the top is relatively flat. Spread the remaining frangipane over the tops of each croissant.
Sprinkle each croissant with 2 tablespoons of sliced almonds and bake the croissants until golden brown, about 15 minutes, but check them a few minutes before the recommended baking time. Let them cool a few minutes, then sprinkle them with powdered sugar. Serve warm or at room temperature.
A tv series of L’Appart would be a dream come true.
You are simply too modest a fellow. But maybe that is why you have endeared yourself to so many. I had no idea that almond croissants were made with already-baked croissants. What a shock. And how fantastic too!