Yes, I know that the big news in croissantville is the arrival of the cronut in the Twin Cities. The croissant/donut mutant hybrid, created by New York patisseur Dominique Ansel, has become the pastry sensation of the summer, finding imitators in Los Angeles, Jacksonville, and now on Ninth Street South in downtown Minneapolis, at the Angel Food Bakery above the Hell’s Kitchen restaurant. (Angel Food owner J. D. Hightower insists he’s been donut-izing croissant dough for years, by the way. Judging by the bakery's Facebook page, the Minneapolis pastry has been rechristened the Cro*Knot, since Ansel has trademarked cronut.)

I haven’t tried a Cro*Knot—I can’t get to Angel Food early enough in the morning. But I’m suspicious of croissant hybrids, having lived through many years of chewing on the bad old middle-American version of the splendid French crescent pastry, the version that was a hybrid of croissant and Wonder Bread.

A few breakfasts in France years ago had installed in me a poignant memory of the croissant as it should be: a pastry, not a dinner roll! Delicate. Buttery. Layers and layers of lightness, with just the right exterior firmness and flakiness.

Finally, as the Twin Cities bakery scene effloresced, really credible croissants began popping up in our midst, croissants that acted like a madeleine to make me recall those French breakfasts past. I decided to do a competitive tasting of my four favorites, and to offer it here, not as an attack upon cronut-mania, but as simple homage to classicism. (I am comparing, of course, so-called “plain” croissants; pain au chocolat, the almond croissant, and the other augmented versions are delicious, but suggest a Romantic sensibility.)

I put the handiwork of Trung Nam French Bakery, Chez Arnaud, Rustica, and Patisserie 46 before me, took a deep breath, and ate.

Trung Nam: The wonderful Franco-Vietnamese bakery and restaurant at 739 University Avenue in Saint Paul (651-229-0887), the best thing ever to happen to a former Popeye’s, offers banh mi sandwiches, a Vietnamese version of the cha siu bao, flavored croissants of all kinds, and a $1.99 plain croissant that’s the butteriest of the four, and the lightest in color and texture. A bit slight, and lacking in surface crispness, but a huge improvement over what you get in a hotel breakfast buffet. Cash only here.

Chez Arnaud Saint Paul: Eight blocks from my house, this very French patisserie on Saint Paul’s Grand Avenue is a favorite hangout for me, for French ladies of a certain age--some giving language lessons--and for stylish young Japanese women (who, as a rule, tend to be Francophiles). Patisseur Arnaud de Rambures’ plain croissant goes for $1.95 and, as sculpture, is the most perfect: a tidy little object of almost marine beauty. This croissant has a richer flavor and a firmer, somewhat flaker surface, but is still very light on the tongue and teeth.

Rustica: This large bakery, way out in the Calhoun Village mall on the stretch of West Lake Street that’s split like a highway, has a suburban ambience—you’re almost in Saint Louis Park--but an urban soul; after all, it supplies pastries to Kopplin’s, Saint Paul’s New Yorkiest, coffee-maven-est café. The $2.00 croissant gets the firm-flaky-outside/soft-layers-inside balance just right, and is chewier overall than Trung Nam's or Chez Arnaud’s offerings. A bold, firm physical profile--the dough is formed in a thick, emphatic twist that's very satisfying to look at. Extraordinarily messy as the surface flakes away--just as it should be.

Patisserie 46: The intersection of Grand and 46th in Minneapolis is graced by three sophisticated gathering-and-eating places: Kings wine bar/restaurant; Café Ena (Spanish/Latin American fusion cooking), and Patisserie 46, where Paris-, London-, and Chicago-trained John Kraus turns out a dizzying array of classic pastries, including the priciest of our croissants at $2.50. But this is a major croissant--practically a work of architecture in its heft and layeredness. There's a hint of spice in the flavor, which is deep and rich. I'm not as impressed with its look as with its taste--it has a ropy, somewhat overcomplex surface. But that's a minor complaint in the face of such excellence.

Do I declare a winner here? I think I won't. All of these croissants, and all of these places, have particular excellences. I'm not always in the mood for a grandiose croissant à la Patisserie 46, and while Trung Nam's offering is modest by comparison, the whole bakery is so charming and its clientele so interesting (food-blog-reading foodies, big Hmong families, road-construction workers) that you feel like your croissant dollar is well spent indeed.

Try them all, and by all means let me know about the Minneapolis and Saint Paul croissant heavens that I've missed.