By Amber turns sixteen on the 24th. Sixteen. I cannot reconcile the number with the girl, because the number says almost-adult and the girl says still-growing, and the gap between the two is where I live as her mother — in the space between what she is becoming and what she still is, between the college pamphlets on her desk and the way she still sleeps with the stuffed bear she brought from Kearney when she was eight years old, the bear that Darla gave her, the bear that has been washed so many times its fur is flat and its eyes are loose and its stuffing has migrated to one side, and Amber keeps it on her pillow because the bear is her mother's last gift, and sixteen is old enough to know that and young enough to still need it.
I made spaghetti and meatballs — Amber's favorite, the one she chose over everything else years ago. The meatballs are beef and pork, garlic, parmesan, oregano. The sauce simmers for an hour. Gayle came for dinner. She brought a card with twenty dollars, because Gayle gives twenty dollars for every birthday regardless of age, and the twenty dollars is not about the money, it is about the consistency, the reliability of a grandmother who will always bring a card with twenty dollars, and the always is the gift, not the twenty.
I made the chocolate sheet cake. Not a birthday cake — the chocolate sheet cake. Because the sheet cake is the family cake, the Novak cake, the cake that connects Gayle to me to Darla to Amber to Justin, and Amber's birthday is a Novak birthday, and a Novak birthday gets the Novak cake. I frosted it while it was warm. The icing sank in and formed the fudgy layer. Amber ate two pieces and said it was perfect. She sounded like Darla when she said it. She sounded exactly like Darla.
The sheet cake is the Novak cake — it belongs to memory, to Gayle, to Darla, to all of us — and I keep that one close. But this chocolate croissant is what I reach for when I want that same warm, fudgy comfort on a weekday morning, or when a girl turns sixteen and I need something to put on the table before school that still says I see you, I love you, today is yours. It’s fast, it’s deeply chocolatey, and it has never once failed to make Amber smile.
Shortcut Chocolate Croissants
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 14 min | Total Time: 24 min | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 can (8 oz) refrigerated crescent roll dough
- 1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
- 1 large egg, beaten
- 1 tablespoon milk
- 2 tablespoons powdered sugar, for dusting
- 1/4 teaspoon flaky sea salt (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat. Heat oven to 375°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Unroll the dough. Separate the crescent dough into 8 individual triangles along the perforations.
- Add chocolate. Place about 1 tablespoon of chocolate chips near the wide end of each triangle, leaving a small border at the edges.
- Roll. Starting at the wide end, roll each triangle toward the point, enclosing the chocolate chips. Curve the ends slightly to form a crescent shape. Place on the prepared baking sheet.
- Egg wash. Whisk together the beaten egg and milk. Brush the tops of the croissants lightly with the egg wash. Sprinkle with flaky sea salt if using.
- Bake. Bake for 12–14 minutes, until deep golden brown. Watch closely in the last few minutes — the bottoms brown quickly.
- Cool and dust. Let croissants rest on the pan for 5 minutes, then dust generously with powdered sugar before serving.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 185 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 240mg