I have always assumed and defended that a croissant is a croissant. I mean that there is no such thing as a chocolate croissant, almond croissant, and sandwich croissant; they are sacrilegious! I defend the simple, plain croissant. I defend the marvelous layered, puff pastry that constitutes a croissant. I just recently had the best croissant I have had in months in the Marriott hotel in Yerevan, Armenia. I was in paradise, pulling one end of the croissant with all the flakes of pastry falling on the table and on my blouse as it should be, continuing by pulling on the other side of the croissant and biting into it, finishing with the middle in ecstasy. I was appalled recently when returning to Philadelphia to be given a croissant that had been criminally cut horizontally and to my horror, filled with apricot jam! It is blasphemy.