Pillows for breakfast.

At 8:45 am on a Monday morning, hardly anything stirred in Crescent City Beignets. But there were signs that past customers had flitted in and out–half-empty glass jugs with mechanical stirrers churning creamy cafe au lait, the smell of fried dough in the air, the specks of crumbs on my table. I’d heard that the place had just reopened, and I wanted to try some beignets for myself. Someday I’ll try the renowned Cafe du Monde version, but for now, Crescent City Beignets has won me over.

Three beignets–each the size of a vintage floppy disk–cost around four dollars. They were arranged like a pile of pillows seen in home magazines, and dusted with liberal coats of powdered sugar. Each bite resulted in a soft white moustache and a delectable combination of fried gold with sweetness. The dough didn’t capture a fluffy essence as I expected, and I thought the interior would be hollower with a croissant-like lightness, but the denseness created a balance with the sugar that I appreciated. I think that beignets are actually a rather simple concept, a daintier version of the glazed doughnut. The powdered sugar dominates the overall flavor.

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