If you’ve ever walked the streets of Paris and wandered into one of the many patisseries, compelled beyond thought and (possibly) good sense by the heady aroma of a freshly baked assortment of decadent treats, you will no doubt be intimately familiar with that most French of things, le croissant.
 I remember my first trip to France in 2019, where I vowed to my now-wife on our second day of exploration that I would eat every chocolate croissant that piqued my interest. Very quickly, I realized I had committed myself to an impossible endeavor given that almost every window on every block housed chocolate croissants, or pan au chocolate as they are called across the pond. And they all piqued my interest. In a matter of hours, I consumed more pan au chocolate than one man should. I lost track after the 8th or 9th, and I felt rightly sick from overconsumption of my favorite flaky friend. So I double-downed on my absolutes and swore I would never repeat the experience. However, events conspired to make a fool of my rash vow. More on that in a minute. Before Fall 2019, the closest I came to an out-of-body croissant experience was on my first trip to San Francisco. I don’t recall who gave me the tip to check out the original Tartine, but I owe them a lifetime of gratitude (and the blame for a lifetime of addiction). As I later learned, it was a very typical day on 18th Street. By mid-morning, the line was wrapped well around the building. Getting into the queue and peaking into the windows as we slowly progressed towards the doors was pastry purgatory. A seemingly endless array of decadent delights moved throughout the kitchen. I remember the intoxicating air of anticipation, scent and that sensuous first bite of a perfectly formed croissant like it was yesterday. It was magical. The perfect crispy outside and soft inside, delicately balanced with the sweetness of chocolate. If you’ve made it this far, you’re probably wondering where I’m going with this croissant business. Here’s the hard truth. Prior to 2021, the high-end pastry game in Phoenix was a barren wasteland. When we opened Regroup in 2016, we tried numerous vendors, jumping between 8 and 10 over the years. None of the options ever excited me. My waistline thanked me, but my appreciation and desire to eat an incredible pastry went unsated. When the pandemic hit in 2020, we were forced to close, and our vendor eventually pivoted elsewhere. I couldn’t blame them. The life of a baker is semi-nocturnal, and the margins are as thin as a croissant flake. And, of course, the situation was compounded by the difficulty of hiring employees during that period. Still, I often wondered if someone might be crazy enough to take on a venture of this sort. I even played around with the idea myself, though I knew nothing about pastries, was strapped for cash, and loved to sleep. Thankfully, I quickly came to my senses (Old Town Bakery, RIP). Time passed, and I focused on riding my bike. Then, I made an unlikely friend. Doug’s pre-pandemic job required extensive travel, but he was grounded while the world burned. He was a man of culture and taste, and it was evident that thanks to Doug’s trips abroad, he was no stranger to fine pastries. We connected through our mutual enjoyment of bikes, travel, and food and often lamented the missing “pastry scene†in Phoenix. One Saturday in 2022, we rode our gravel bikes to the farmer’s market in Central Phoenix and came upon a real melee of a queue. Intrigued, we shuffled our way to the front and found ourselves in front of a friendly baker named Mark Chacone. Little did we know that he was about to blow our minds. $68 worth of pastries later, and I still remember the first bite of a rich, cream cheese Danish topped with fresh seasonal fruit like it was yesterday. It was an almost identical experience to the one I’d had at Tartine years before. How did we spend $68 on pastry for two people, you might ask? Stay with me. After a quick Instagram search, I began the process of convincing Mark that Regroup could, should, and must be a vendor of his incredible works of art. Since Mark was just getting started and only had a small delivery route, our location in Tempe wasn’t on the cards. I thought momentarily about committing my daily commute to a stop-off in Central Phoenix but wisely decided that might not be the best of ideas, especially since a 30-minute car ride alone with a warm box of freshly baked croissants might likely result in a few disappearing. For the time being, I put the idea out in my head and resorted to weekly rides to the farmer’s market. I got my fix one way or another but hoped that Mark would expand and eventually be able to deliver to us. Thankfully, in 2023, Mark began working with Press at all their locations, including the one just down the way from us. I exuberantly messaged him, hoping he would finally be able to work with us. I’m sure Mark thought I was crazy at this point – who could love pastries this much? Despite my over-keen approach, he agreed to a “tasting†to give us a complete picture of his offerings and decide what we’d like to carry. A tasting, I thought, I must have died and gone to croissant heaven. What could go wrong? For those of you who’ve gotten to know me over the years, you’ll know that I try hard not to exaggerate. I’ve told myself a million times never to exaggerate. In this case, I’ll let the pictures do the talking rather than tell you how many pastries Daniel, my Director of Marketing, and I ate that afternoon. Remember when I mentioned my overconsumption episode in Paris? Well, I one-upped myself and was never happier or sicker in my entire life. I tested a new PR for myself and discovered the physical max pain threshold for hourly pastry consumption. I felt invincible. You might be wondering what makes Mark’s creations so unique. The quick answer is that you get what you pay for. The long answer is that Mark is building a business that values his employees. Everyone gets company-paid health insurance for $0 out of pocket and a livable wage. In addition, Mark has built partnerships with local vendors to source the best seasonal fruits and uses the highest quality ingredients. Those ingredients aren’t cheap; quite frankly, everything is getting more expensive these days. From the gas that goes in the delivery truck to the employees that deliver to us fresh every day, you need to charge a fair price to build a sustainable business. Mark took a page from the Chris Bianco book of building a business. If you use quality ingredients, care for your people, and create something extraordinary, customers will pay what you ask. Coincidentally, Mark worked and continues to work with Chris, cutting his teeth in pastry by diligently convincing Tartine to hire him. It’s weird how the world has a way of making sense if you follow your instinct. Or, your gut, as the case may be. To hear more of Marks’ story, check out the entire interview. He’s a great guy and I’m thankful to call him a friend. Whether you can make it to see us and taste Mark’s pastries or you see them in the case at Valleywide coffee shops, don’t let the price scare you away. Your only regret will not be getting one to save and eat later!