Here's Your New Cronut: Why The Bruffin Will Own New York

It's been a while since you went crazy for cronuts, cretzels, and cr'nishes, so this news will make you gastronomically giddy: there's a newcomer to the trendy New York City hybrid food scene, and it should move straight to the top of your must-eat list. It's called the Bruffin.

Well, I shouldn't really call it a "newcomer;" the Bruffin has been around for about eight months, originally (and still) slung from a stall at Smorgasburg in Brooklyn. This past weekend, it moved into one of its new homes, the meatpacking district's brand-new Gansevoort Market , which is a must-visit for food fanatics for non-Bruffin-related missions, as well.

There's also the Bruffin Cafe at 85 Delancey Street, where you can binge on any of the twelve savory, internationally inspired Bruffins (and several more sweet varieties), each one affixed with a country's flag to represent its flavor.

So, what's a Bruffin, anyway? If you were thinking, predictably, that it's a lot like a muffin, extinguish that thought from your mind right now. The Bruffin takes the latter part of its name from its muffinesque figure, but texturally it couldn't be more different. That's because it's made with light and airy brioche pastry, and takes its shape from being shaped around various decadent fillings before being baked.

Flavor combinations abound, such as the American, with Buffalo-style white meat chicken, blue cheese, and hot sauce; the British, with bacon and sharp cheddar; the Indian, with masala curried chicken, chickpeas, and paneer cheese; and the Italian (or the Triple P, as I call it), with pepperoni, pesto, and parmigiano. And there are so many others, including sweet Bruffins like blueberry–mascarpone and vanilla–apple–almond. This is my favorite thing about Bruffins, aside from their texture: Unlike the esteemed Cronut from Dominique Ansel, the Bruffin is available in all of these awesome flavors all the time, instead of there being just one type offered each month.

A friend invited me and my girlfriend to accompany her and her boyfriend to the first night of Gans Market (as the cool kids call it) this past Saturday, completely forgetting that whenever I venture to a new culinary hangout, I instantly morph into investigative reporter mode. As soon as we entered, my eyes caught sight of the slick Bruffin signage hanging over a small corner booth. My gaze then shifted down to the case of Bruffins, their colorful flags beckoning me.

I turned to my girlfriend and looked at her with widened eyes, knowing that she was experiencing the same visceral reaction.

"Should we get one?!" she asked emphatically, already knowing the answer.

We jolted ahead of the others to the pastry oasis and were welcomed by a bright-eyed young woman who asked us if we knew about the Bruffin.

"No. Tell us everything," I said, hardly containing myself.

Instead, she did better, getting the attention of a man with dark blue jeans, white polo shirt, and matching hair, who was finishing up a chat with a couple of satisfied Bruffin customers on the other side of the counter.

Seconds later, we were introduced to Michael Bagley, a former hotel marketing executive turned acclaimed interior designer with a studio next to Union Square, whose partner is the inventor of the Bruffin. We'd soon uncover that the Bruffin began as an attempt to satisfy one of Bagley's random morning cravings at home.

"The way it all started is that I asked my partner, who's a chef, to make me something for breakfast that I could eat on the go," he explained energetically, "but I wanted it to have all of my favorite things in it. The first attempts came out a little too rich, so he worked on it and perfected the recipe."

Bagley's partner is Medy Youcef, a Nigerian-born, Paris-raised chef who grew up with a fondness and curiosity for baking, having made his first cake at the tender age of eight at his grandfather's patisserie. Youcef's culinary abilities fused perfectly with Bagley's business savvy and creative edge — he has designed 12 BLT restaurants, among other things — and together they decided to take the Bruffin to market.

"I thought it would be fun to incorporate an international theme with the flavors," said Bagley, "and that it would look really great with all the little flags to differentiate them." He continued with a chuckle: "It can also be hard to tell each flavor apart without them."

As for what Bagley's favorite flavor is, he says it's the Greek, which comes filled with spiced beef, feta, spinach, and briny kalamata olives. While I was curious about the Japanese (teriyaki chicken, scallions, and sesame), the Swedish (salmon, herbed goat cheese, capers, and spinach), the Spanish (chorizo, manchego, and ancho chili), and the Moroccan (merguez [lamb] sausage, ratatouille tagine, and mild cheese), Bagley's enthusiasm convinced us to go Greek.

It was a great call. [pullquote:right]

The Bruffin pastry was light, soft, and buttery, and the beefy filling was full of salty, savory flavor from the olives and cheese. At first bite, I fell in love, and I'd have opted for a second Bruffin even if I weren't sharing my first with a hungry girlfriend.

Before Bagley could finish telling me the story about how he'd recently secured a deal with Fairway Market to carry assorted Bruffins at all of their locations, our Greek Bruffin was history, and it was clear we wanted more.

"Big things are happening," said Bagley, with the grin of a man who's experienced success in many forms throughout his life. "I couldn't be happier."

Before we said goodbye, Bagley hooked us up with a rainbow-flag-adorned Bruffin on the house — the very Bruffin I had been covertly eyeballing during our conversation, its center overflowing with fudge-smothered morsels.

"This is one of our best sellers: chocolate-covered bacon and salted caramel," he said with a knowing look.

We gratefully accepted our gift and immediately tore into it like ravenous raptors, our hands and faces getting speckled in fudgy obscenity that was totally worth the appalled stares from people ordering lobster rolls at an adjacent booth. It's a good thing there are lots of places to buy these, I thought to myself, knowing that I was one of the lucky ones who didn't have to wait in one of the serpentine lines that will inevitably form once word gets out about these soon-to-be-ubiquitous treats.

For now, you can consider me and my girl the first official Bruffinatics. (And, yes, we want royalties on that one, Mr. Bagley!)