If you ever want to demonstrate how much of an American asshole you are walk into a Patisserie and order a croissant by actually pronouncing the "R" in croissant. This is what I did. Luckily the nice french man behind the counter was polite enough not to give me the "you're an American and an asshole" look, at least not to my face.
Anyhow onto the goodies; the chocolate croissants are sinful, their rich dark coffee is the finest I tried on all of Yonge and the pastries are miniature magnificent works of art. I was sad that this little Patisserie managed to hide from me until my last day in Toronto because I could have spent days sitting at one of the bistro tables, face buried in a newspaper indulging in delight after delight.
Le sigh.