Ever wonder why croissants, of all things, have such wildly different price tags? You could splurge $5 on a plain croissant from a top-tier bakery, or pick one up at a discount supermarket for just 50 cents. For something as common as a croissant, why is there such a huge gap in price? What exactly justifies a tenfold difference? Well, as it turns out, sometimes you really do get what you pay for. A budget croissant often comes with a budget taste, and today, I got a firsthand reminder of that reality.

On my way home, I walked past a large chain supermarket and couldn’t help but notice that they had 50 cents croissants on offer. Now, I love a good deal as much as anyone, but when it comes to croissants, I usually prefer to aim higher. However, curiosity got the best of me. What would a 50 cents croissant be like? Could it possibly live up to even the most modest croissant standards? I grabbed one, brought it home, and—surprise, surprise—it was not exactly delightful. In fact, it was more of a baking catastrophe. So, let’s break down just what made this croissant such a “meh-sical” experience. Spoiler alert: it didn’t check any boxes for quality.

1. Appearance

A croissant worth its salt should be elegantly shaped, with a torpedo-like body that narrows to a delicate point at each end. The surface should be a marvel of neatness, showing crisp, distinct layers that promise a satisfying crunch on the outside. But this poor thing? It was more like a misshapen lump, an unfortunate tribute to the art of croissant-baking. And get this—they baked it stuck to the other croissants, so the edges were all fused together. Imagine having to peel off pieces just to get to your sad little croissant. The result was a rather sad state of affairs: the croissant’s edges were pale, misshapen, and unappealing. Not only did it lack that tell-tale torpedo shape, but it also had a droopy, soft bottom with zero crispy layers. Gourmet? Not quite.

2.Internal Structure

Cutting into it, I was genuinely surprised—it actually had some of that honeycomb layering! For a moment, I thought maybe I had judged too soon. But alas, my excitement was short-lived. After the first bite, I hit a huge empty pocket. (I was this close to complimenting it, but the air bubble gave itself away.) Technically, an air pocket doesn’t ruin a croissant, but let’s just say it didn’t add to the experience.

A proper croissant should have an internal structure that is airy yet tender, with a slightly chewy texture that melts in your mouth. When you slice it open, you expect to see a web of delicate layers that each contribute to that blissful texture. However, in this case, what I got was more of a collapsed, uneven interior with little integrity to the layers. The massive empty pocket was just another reminder that I was dealing with a croissant that had cut more than a few corners in its journey to the supermarket.

3. Color

I didn’t have high hopes for the color, and for good reason. A beautiful croissant usually shows a gradient of golden-brown hues, with a deep golden center (from the higher middle section) and lighter golden tones at the ends (since those parts are lower). But this croissant? The sunken bottom was proof enough it didn’t get a proper bake, and the pale edges were a dead giveaway of serious issues with browning. Incorrect baking temperatures had clearly resulted in uneven color. Overall, the baking was too light, leaving the croissant without that signature crisp shell and instead giving it a limp, floppy look. (The floppiness was also likely due to weak gluten structure, which prevented it from rising properly.)

4. Flavor and Texture

Ah, the buttery bliss of a croissant… only, not this time. You can’t know what kind of butter (if any) they use in these supermarket croissants, but trust me, you can taste the compromise. This one was heavy, oily, and far from buttery. By the third bite, I was ready to tap out. There was a greasiness that practically screamed “cheap fat,” though the label was mysteriously ingredient-free. Let’s just say, I tasted the difference.

Croissants are supposed to be rich yet light, and the butter should leave a lovely, lingering aroma. A good croissant feels almost weightless in your hand, with each bite leaving a delicate hint of butter that doesn’t overwhelm. But here? It felt like I was eating something that had been doused in oil, and not in a good way. The greasy texture was a far cry from the creamy richness you’d expect. While I can’t say for sure what fat they used (there was no ingredient label), it felt like a blend or something less than pure butter—you can taste the difference.

But hey, what did I really expect from a 50-cent croissant? Bargain buys come with bargain flavors. If you’re just looking for a quick bite to satisfy a craving, maybe it’s not so bad. But if you’re expecting bakery quality, prepare to be underwhelmed. It’s always a bit of a gamble with supermarket pastries, especially when the price is too good to be true. And if you ever find a $4 croissant that’s as disappointing as this one, well, you’ll know it’s really just a 50-cent croissant in disguise.