It all started with the pain aux raisins I had on my first day back from New York. And let’s just say I haven’t exactly exercised any restraint since then. I can’t help myself. Pastries have become my Parisian comfort food.
I walked into Stohrer one morning and asked which pastries might still be a little warm. The pain au chocolat? Really? Un, s’il vous plait.
Then there was the apple tart last week. It was one of those dumb decisions that I got trapped into making. I felt under pressure in the busy boulangerie lunch line and quickly opted for the formule déjeuner—a sandwich, dessert and drink for a set price. Because of my knee-jerk decision, I suffered through a pathetic cheese sandwich, followed by a not-so-great apple tart. A waste of calories that could have been spent on something dreamy like…
Le Coeur at Coquelicot. Oh, how I love this little heart-shaped, strawberry-flavored spongey cake bit. Dee-lish.
After that, I had just one bite of gianduja chocolate from A la Mere de Famille.
And does the gateau au chocolat chez-Lionel count? Gluttony.
But for the record, I had a giant Cote d’Or chocolate bar in my apartment for five full days and nights before I opened it. This week, I will savor it along with the last episodes of Mad Men, season two.
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