The Croissant Myth: Not French, and 350 Years Old!
Re-writing the history of the croissant! It's not French, nor is it linked to the Siege of Vienna. A surprising journey into culinary geography and food myths.
The croissant, that irresistible pastry sold by the hundreds daily in bakery windows, a staple of our morning coffees, and for years known as the “symbol of French cuisine,” actually has a rather interesting story. So interesting, in fact, that it reveals a reality almost entirely opposite to common belief. The croissant is neither a French invention nor a symbol of victory from the Siege of Vienna. What's more, its consumption patterns in Turkey in recent years bear little resemblance to its original form.
The Croissant's Ottoman and Vienna Myths
In Turkey, a legend often found in school books and popular history narratives tells of the 1683 Siege of Vienna. Early in the morning, millers grinding flour hear sounds from underground, realizing the Ottomans are tunneling. This discovery saves the city, and in commemoration of the victory, they create a crescent-shaped pastry to symbolize the warning. The sweet (!) finale of the story is that as they eat this pastry, they exclaim, "We are eating the Ottomans!"
Historical discipline has long since refuted this narrative.
The crescent-shaped Kipferl, considered the ancestor of the croissant, dates back to the 12th century according to Austrian sources. This means the product existed at least four centuries before the Siege of Vienna. The croissant's distinctive laminated structure, where butter is incorporated between layers of dough, was developed in Parisian bakeries in the 19th century. However, the product's fundamental origin lies in Austria.
Marie Antoinette or Catherine de Medici?
The story of Marie Antoinette bringing the croissant to France is another similar myth. As an Austrian princess married into the French royal family at the end of the 18th century, Marie Antoinette's influence on cuisine was limited. The true structural transformation of French cuisine was initiated much earlier, in the 16th century, by another Florentine woman: Catherine de Medici. When Catherine married King Henry II of France in 1533 at the age of 14, she brought with her chefs, culinary techniques, and the rich repertoire of Italian Renaissance cuisine. The widespread adoption of tomatoes, vanilla, ice cream, and even the table fork were just a few of the innovations the Medici dynasty introduced to the French court. Many fundamental techniques and products taught today under the umbrella of "French cuisine" actually trace their roots back to this period.
The Mysterious Beginning of Sauces: From Medicine to Cuisine
The topic of sauces also has an interesting story in this context. Historians of medicine and pharmacy suggest that the first sauce formulas actually originated from medicinal compounds. Even the name of the Medici family, who were long involved in pharmacy in Florence, was derived from the Latin word "medicus" (healer). Court physicians experimented with spices, vinegar, broth, and sugar to make mixtures for patients more palatable. It is known that some of these experiments gradually seeped into kitchens, and sauces became an integral part of meals. Ketchup being sold in pharmacies in America during the 18th and 19th centuries, under the claim that it cured stomach ailments, is a modern example of this medicine-to-kitchen transition.
Culinary Geography and Nation-State Borders
So, whose is the croissant? This question is actually formulated incorrectly from the perspective of culinary geography. Claims of product origin are often made based on nation-state borders, but many dishes emerged at a time when such borders didn't even exist. Aleppo and Gaziantep were natural parts of the same culinary geography, as were Cunda and Crete. Before the Lausanne population exchange, there were recipes, techniques, and products passed down through generations in these regions. The inclusion of lavash on the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage list, not for a single country but jointly for Azerbaijan, Iran, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Turkey, is an institutional recognition of this reality.
Taste Memory and Global Flavor Misconceptions
Claims frequently seen on social media, such as "I ate the best pizza in Turkey" or "I had the best San Sebastian cheesecake in Istanbul," are considered structurally flawed by culinary researchers. This is because the flavor a person describes as "the best" is not a true comparison with the original product; it is the satisfaction of a taste profile their palate has grown accustomed to over thirty-plus years. Most Italian restaurants in Turkey are not actually representatives of Italian cuisine, but rather a "Turkish-Italian fusion" that has evolved over time in Turkey. The same can be observed with tomatoes: a tomato grown in Çanakkale and one grown in Ayaş are not the same product, either genetically or in terms of geographical characteristics (terroir); they cannot even be compared in terms of taste.
Packaged Food Policies and Double Standards
A much more current and consumer-relevant dimension of gastronomic politics is the differentiation of packaged foods by country. The same product from the same brand, under the same name, can be produced with different ingredients depending on the country it's exported to. For example, while the packaging of a product sold in the European market by one of Turkey's leading snack brands highlights the phrase "does not contain palm oil," the version of the same product in the Turkish market contains palm oil. Similarly, chocolates sent to India may be sweeter and spicier, while versions sent to Europe might be more bitter. McDonald's special McTurco menu for Turkey, Ramadan iftar menus, or special vegetarian menus for India are clear examples of this market segmentation. While some of these practices can be defended as cultural adaptation, situations where food safety decisions differ by country lead to much more controversial issues for consumers.
Lack of Transparency in the Food Chain
An incident in the egg supply chain in recent years directly illustrates this discussion: a substance classified as carcinogenic and banned internationally in agriculture since 1980 was detected in a batch of eggs exported from Turkey to Tunisia. Tunisia returned this batch. However, no clear information was provided to the public regarding whether the returned batch was destroyed, by what procedure it was destroyed if it was, or whether it was re-released into the domestic market. Such uncertainties always keep alive the suspicion of transparency in the food chain and double standards between the domestic market and export markets.
The story of the croissant opens up a much broader discussion than just the origin of a single product. The incompatibility of culinary history with nation-state borders, how misleading the question of "whose?" actually is in gastronomy, how social media distorts taste memory, and how the global food chain shows different faces to consumers are the main branches of this discussion. A legend constructed around the Siege of Vienna is still believed to be true even three and a half centuries later. Unfortunately, the smaller, true realities of history continue to be overshadowed by smaller misconceptions.