The day the streets were paved in baguettes and chocolate.
Behold the Poilane bread! All hail the Pierre Herme macarons!
This post kicks of a new series called Story Charms: favorite moments and experiences of note from writers, readers and charmers like you. I’m launching the series with an adventure of my own.
I took a solo trip to Paris a couple of years ago and treated myself to a culinary walk offered by Context Travel. Context gives expert tours for small groups – a medieval architecture tour might be led by a history professor, for example. In my case, the culinary guide was talented chef and food blogger Louisa Chu.
Engaging and friendly, Chu took us to some of the most delightful places I’ve ever been. She led us to the bakeries that make the best croissants and baguettes (Poilane, of course). She took us to chocolatier Patrick Roger’s shop and pointed out a boucherie that still sells horse meat near the farmer’s market that stands on one of the original roads to Rome. We made our way to Laduree and picked out boxes of the famed Parisian-style macarons. We serendipitously ran into Dorie Greenspan on the street, so Chu introduced us to the baking queen, who was happy to chat and told me about her favorite bakery in Nashville, where I live at the moment.
Then finally, the stop that changed my life: Pierre Herme. This is the man who many say revived Laduree back in the day. This is the man who creates haute flavor combinations each year to coincide with fashion week. This is the man who invented the Ispahan, that magical pastry with rose, litchi and raspberry. So I took my turn at the counter like every other person lucky enough to stand in line and ordered my array, including macaron flavors from olive oil to pistachio and a concoction of chocolate, caramel and fleur de sel.
Then I had the rest of the evening to open my pastry boxes and gaze transfixed at my purchases. I stepped into a baroque-style church on the way back to my hotel to admire the Delacroix frescoes. But those macarons: seriously transcendent.
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My charming walk through Paris
The day the streets were paved in baguettes and chocolate.
This post kicks of a new series called Story Charms: favorite moments and experiences of note from writers, readers and charmers like you. I’m launching the series with an adventure of my own.
I took a solo trip to Paris a couple of years ago and treated myself to a culinary walk offered by Context Travel. Context gives expert tours for small groups – a medieval architecture tour might be led by a history professor, for example. In my case, the culinary guide was talented chef and food blogger Louisa Chu.
Chu was engaging and friendly and took us to some of the most delightful places I’ve ever been. She led us to the bakeries that sell the best croissant, the best organic baguette and the best overall baguette (Poilane, of course). She took us to the shop of chocolatier Patrick Roger and pointed out a boucherie that still sells horse meat near the farmer’s market that stands on one of the original roads to Rome. We made our way to Laduree and picked out boxes of the famed Parisian-style macarons. We serendipitously ran into Dorie Greenspan on the street, so Chu introduced us to the baking queen, who was happy to chat and told me all about her favorite bakery in Nashville, where I happen to live at the moment.
Then finally, the stop that changed my life: Pierre Herme. This is the man who many say revived Laduree back in the day. This is the man who creates haute flavor combinations each year to coincide with fashion week. This is the man who invented the Ispahan, that magical pastry with rose, litchi and raspberry flavors. So I took my turn at the counter like every other person lucky enough to stand in line and ordered my array, including macaron flavors from olive oil to pistachio, the famed Ispahan and a concoction of chocolate, caramel and fleur de sel. Then I had the rest of the evening to open my pastry boxes and gaze transfixed at my purchases. I may have stepped into a baroque-style church on the way back to my hotel to admire the Delacroix frescoes. But those macarons: seriously transcendent.
