by Carolin Messier
Here’s an essay I wrote for my restaurant’s blog.
For the past two years we’ve had a couple of different talented pastry chefs at the restaurant and I haven’t been working full time baking in the kitchen. But I still fill in for vacations or go in early to make jam or can cherries in red wine. One of my favorite tasks is to make the croissant dough near the end of the week for the weekend’s brunch pastries.
On those Thursdays I arrive in my sleepy kitchen before 6 o’clock, key in the code to the beeping alarm which assures me I’m alone, and turn on the lights. The first hour of my meditation requires a patient waiting. I assemble milk and yeast, honey and sea salt on the utilitarian stainless steel counter across from the stove. The copper pots, polished with coarse salt and lemon juice, are lined up in ascending size on the shelf above the…
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