When I left Australia for the US in the early ’90s, one of the things I missed the most about Melbourne was, surprisingly, its croissants. Croissants in America tended to be floppy, pale things, nothing like the stretchy, pliant, shattery pastries I’d grown up taking for granted.

Almond croissants in particular became an obsession – my first piece of food writing, penned in a university journalism class, was about the almond croissants of my Melbourne childhood and my quest in the years since to replicate their magic.

Americans, also, seemed disbelieving when I’d tell them that Melbourne had great bakeries, and pastries better than any I found outside of Europe until well into the 2000s. This may partly be why the story of Lune and its founder Kate Reid seems so improbable and fascinating to tourists in particular. How are some of the world’s best croissants being made in Australia, of all places? To me, Lune made perfect sense: a church of croissants in a city that knows its pastry.

“Do I need to tell you how good the Lune croissant is? Probably not.”

Reid is well known for her scientific approach to croissant-making. And we all know that the underpinning of good scientific research is experimentation. It’s with this in mind that Lune Lab was launched a few years back, an occasional lunch pop-up in which Lune chefs experimented with the idea of the croissant, and pushed it to be used in a variety of ways, creating a three-course tasting menu.

These days, the event is more consistent, operating on Friday to Sunday in the Fitzroy location with menus changing seasonally. The South Brisbane Lune Lab operates Saturday and Sunday. Tickets must be purchased in advance.

For the diner, the experiment is more around the question: how many croissant-based dishes can you eat and still be excited about croissants?

In its soaring Fitzroy warehouse, which acts as bakery, retail store and cafe, Lune Lab guests are seated at a counter facing the famous glassed-in croissant kitchen, where they receive more than just a meal. In fact, I’d say one of the great joys of the experience is hearing the chefs talk about the process of making the star item of the business – and also the first course of the lunch – the plain Lune croissant.

Served at what they deem to be the perfect post-oven temperature, you are offered these crispy beauties from a tray, with directions to pick from one end or the other depending on how well done you like your croissant. All the love and science that goes into the making of the pastries is explained in detail, and questions are encouraged.

Do I need to tell you how good the Lune croissant is? Probably not. If you love croissants, this is a very good one. And still – once I’ve eaten one, I’m not really then in the mood for more croissants.

That doesn’t mean that the main savoury course served at Lune Lab is unimpressive – this is where the chefs really get to show their creative prowess. Currently, miso-braised beef sits atop parsnip puree, encircled by a croissant “halo” – a round of croissant dough that’s been layered with nori, giving it an umami jolt.

Puffed rice, pickled daikon, charred onion and horseradish cream act as garnish and accompaniment, adding textural intrigue while cutting through some of the richness of the meat and pastry. In some ways, it’s like a fancy deconstructed pie. But it’s clear that balance, texture and flavour have all been meticulously considered.

For dessert? More croissant, of course! Specifically, a pear-shaped croissant with pear compote and green tea ice-cream inside, and ginger-caramel sauce. Again, the composition is beautiful, and despite my waning patience for more buttery pastry, I ate it up.

In the end, my croissant tolerance is probably beside the point. Lune Lab is a thought and taste experiment, yes, but it’s also primarily a one-of-a-kind experience, a peek behind the curtain of one of our city’s most iconic food items, and a way to get the full Lune lowdown without having to stand in line.

For visitors, or for a special occasion (particularly when your guest or birthday person is a croissant lover), this is a truly memorable and singular meal, something you couldn’t get anywhere else. The next time I write a to-do list for tourists, this will absolutely be on it. Teenage me, homesick for Melbourne and its croissants, would have died with delight.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.