It's got layers like a croissant and filling like a Bismarck.
  • Aimee Levitt
  • See? It’s got layers like a croissant and filling like a Bismarck.

Back in June, the cronut arrived in Chicago, or, rather, in Chicagoland, at GĂĽr Sweets Bakery in Elmhurst. But city bakers were determined not to be outdone, and by the middle of July, there were variations on the doughnut/croissant hybrid at Alliance Bakery, La Boulangerie, Glazed and Infused, and West Town Bakery & Diner. It was indeed an embarrassment of riches, which might explain why, now that the initial rush is over, you can simply walk into one of these establishments and buy yourself a cronut, or croughnut, or doughssant, or whatever name the pastry makers had adopted since Dominique Ansel, the New York baker responsible for the original incarnation, had trademarked the name “cronut.” And also why there is no thriving Craigslist trade involving eager young people willing to purchase and deliver cronuts for a modest 500 percent markup.

But for all that is being written about the presence of cronuts in the city, there’s been very little about how they actually taste.