Dominique Ansel Bakery on Spring St. in NYC. But its fans have spread far and wide. In fact, the pastry's fame has spread so far that some people refer to it as "a viral pastry." Half croissant, half doughnut, this pastry hybrid is filled with cream and topped with glaze. It is so delicate that it must be cut with a serrated knife.
The bakery produces just one flavor per month. The owner recommends that if you really want one of these cronuts—and there's a 2 per person limit—you should be outside in line by 7:15 AM, prepared to wait for up to two hours. The bakery prepares only one flavor per month. Just invented in May, the cronut so far has come in only three flavors.
The day after my daughter told me about the Cronut I heard two anchors on the morning news swooning over the confection, both saying it was the best they'd ever had. Now I deeply desire to have one myself.
And for some reason, I'm obsessing about the cronut. I can't get it out of my head. That, hopefully, means that at some point a poem will emerge—just in case you were wondering what any of this has to do with poetry. But it's also occurred to me that the cronut is itself like one of those good poems that fuses together two unlikely components and is constructed in layers.
So I've been dreaming up a few poetic challenges. See what you can do with any of these possibilities:
1. Write a poem about the Cronut.
2. Write a poem that fuses together two unlikely subjects.
3. Write a poem about your favorite pastry.
Check out the Cronut Facebook page. Be prepared to drool.
Check out the bakery page on Facebook. Here you'll find out all the history and controversy, yes, controversy, surrounding the cronut.