Just a little too far?

Sometimes there are experiences of such enjoyment and extreme satisfaction that the only way extend the longevity of the moment is to share with others, in tales and stories. To take a memorable occurrence and bring a similar feeling of joy and excitement to another who wasn't present to the initial happening allows for that single episode to become universal. From the tone of the teller and the following glance of the listener, both can re-live (in their own ways) a single event.

But then, there are other escapades that unfold with such a unique and sometimes strange set of combinations, that it seems better not to share. As powerful as these memories may be, it can be difficult finding the right person with the right mind to accept and (hopefully) understand the actions of the troubled occasion.

We all do things that bring a slight tingle of shame to our minds. With the full knowledge of why, we can sometimes go against our convictions. Then there are the moments where we don't break any personal limits but we just take one step, or thin this case, one bite too far...

I love the pig. No question about it, no needed words of justification and certainly no shame in my enjoyment. Although I do think this delight has been taken to a new extreme.

I work in a cheese shop that is filled with tempting offerings on many decadent levels. In addition to the grand number of cheeses, the lovely pig plays a great part in the form of many salted and dry cured meats. Delicious merely begins to describe these offerings. For dealing with the meats, there is a somewhat dangerous but quite exotic machine of arranged metal with a rotating blade of severe sharpness, that we play and fine tune like some morbid instrument. With every use, I give full attention but no fear to the finesse of every slice. All it takes is a bit of pressure and the proper blade placement to turn a large piece of chewy aged flesh into a thin slice of majestic flavor. This is where interest transforms into obsession.

It really doesn't matter what time of day or what state of hunger I am in, if there is a piece of salami on the slicer, it will most likely soon be in my stomach. Even with a full belly of a recently consumed lunch, I can't pass up a post meal digestive of salty pig meat and fat. Thus, comes my initial thought of expression.

With each use of the meat slicer, there is a certain amount of shavings that naturally fall away. Much like the 'dust' that fragments off when cutting through wood on a band saw. With multiple cuts being done in a small amount of time, the shavings being to add up. When cutting something as soft and moist as smoked bacon, in all of it's tantalizing glory, there isn't so much meat that comes off in excess form, but rather thick fat. Working on a second piece of thick belly, the amount of natural fat that had built up along the back side of the slicer was becoming quite large. It looked like the most pure mass of rendered pork essence, for it was glistening and looking quite tempting.

I felt such an urge.

Eating raw bacon isn't something I usually do, but when I slowly swiped my finger along the trail of thick bacon fat, I just couldn't help myself. With a small teaspoon's worth of creamy lard just sitting, slightly warm, on the tip of my now trembling index, I didn't even think of consequences. Thoughts of new gelato flavors, different spreads for breads and a unique replacement for aioli crossed my mind. So pure, essential and...thick. It was untampered pork fat. Deeply memorable in a nearly provocative way of desire and submission.

Disgusting? Not really. Heavy? Quite. Worth it enough to share even with the threat of disappointment from those close to me? Absolutely.

I don't feel bad, but I don't expect for all to understand. For those that do, the next time the fat calls, here is to your health.

A cheese filled finale in RIOJA, Denver.

The last course of the meal. Many memories are established during this period of any feast. This is the last flavor that is to be experienced, and hopefully it will be enticing. Dessert is a thought that can usually fill the mind even before the appetizers are ordered. It is a time for a chef to showcase other capabilities unseen anywhere else during the meal. The sweets are valued and desired, but there is a very precise line to how much is needed. A small bit of chocolate can create and urge for so many more, but one too many easily festers into a coma of disgust. That is just one possibility of the end note to a meal. Sometimes just a nice pour of thick port is needed, or a freshly spun serving of delectable sorbet. The options for how to conclude a food oriented evening are many. Rather than sweet, nothing booze related and certainly not chilled, the cheese plate is one amazing way to complete a night of wonderful tastes.

Cheese isn't usually taken as a post-dinner option in most of America's restaurants. As much love as the diners of the U.S.A. have for the 'fromage', it is mostly kept as a small plate or as an assisting flavor to another protein. Taking the European approach to after dinner eats, cheese is as appropriate as that sweet creme brulee or dense chocolate fudge.

Within Denver, there are many restaurants that understand this way of cheese consumption. The now classic Larimer square restaurant: Rioja is one that takes the extra step and fully embraces the cheese plate as a standard part of their seasonally changing menu.



During a recent dinner, the moment a menu was opened atop the table cloth, my mind was racing with anticipation for the selections of milky fermentations.



Beginning with the most savory of the four, Pecorino Nero di Pienza. A very meaty flavored sheep's milk cheese from Italy. All of the typical elements of the Italian Pecorinos are apparent, nutty and sharp, with a deep grass quality that lingers long after the initial taste. The paring with spicy pepperoncini and fatty salami was delicious in theory, but this particular example failed to meet the level or unity I had hoped for. The fault, I felt, was of that of the salami. Each bite was very bitter and much too strong, leaving a taste of unpleasant battery acid. The spice was interesting at first and as fully flavored that the cheese was, many of the lighter layers were lost. Sipping water and eating random bits of left over bread, I dove back in, this time pushing the pork and rusty metal compote aside, finally being able to taste the full glory of this Tuscan beauty.



Selles Sur Cher with ruby red grapefruit marmalade
Moving along, I decided to taste the goat cheese. Selles Sur Cher, one of a few famous ash covered goat cheeses hailing from the Loire Valley in North central France. The cheeses had sharp flavors of bittersweet fruits and citrus with a semi dry texture that smoothed out nicely on the palate. As the cheese arrived I saw how the rind was beginning to pull away from the center, a very good thing that made me immediately lick my lips. The grapefruit marmalade on it's own was wonderful, tasting unmistakably of the original fruit with just the right amount of sugar to mask the natural bitterness. I'm always amazed at the unity citrus can have with certain cheeses. There is a very small window of success between the two, but when it does happen (such as this plate), the flavors work in an amazing way. The contrasts among the flavors made this paring a surprise with every bite.



Munster with caraway scented fennel and pear
The authentic Munster from Northern France, strong, smelly and unlike anything that comes from the usual deli counter. This washed rind cheese is pungent with a slightly beefy smell that influences the interior when ripe. Thinly shaved ribbons of fresh fennel brought a pleasing aromatic lightness to the deep flavors, while the caraway and pear opened up some of the more acidic elements that brought to mind radishes and root vegetables. The strength of this cheese and it's slightly dense texture were elegantly displayed with thought and appeal.



Crozier blue with black mission figs and 8 brix verjus
Ending, in the nicest possible way, with the unforgettable Crozier Blue cheese. Crozier is a semi-crumbly sheep's milk cheese hand made in south-central Ireland. With an amazing addicting flavor of tart and sweet milk, soft spices and pleasing salt levels, Crozier seems only natural to be served after dinner. Utilizing the stronger, and sweeter, characteristics of the cheese, Crozier was served quite simply with drops of a deeply developed verjus and raw slices of sensual mission figs. The verjus gave a concentrated flavor of tart grapes that never felt out of place with the strong blue cheese. Utilizing the irreplaceable qualities of fresh figs, and allowing their uncooked essence to remain untainted, was just the right flavor to bring out the firm salt within the Crozier. A plate of delicious simplicity that combined tastes in blissful harmony.

At Rioja, the initiative taken by the chefs made each plate one of drastic and dynamic amalgamations . Rather than relying on the typical accompaniments of dried fruit and scattered nuts, every cheese was paired with it's own condiment that reflects particular flavors and unique characteristics. The disappointments throughout the evening were few (service, the salami, the parmesan lavosh crackers) and easily forgotten when compared to all of the other successes. By using some intriguing combinations and serving beautiful cheese at the proper temperature, Rioja has created a great ending moment to the meal that made the rest of the evening a content series of reflection.

Revamp, Renewal and Return.

Like a hunger that suddenly and unexpectedly returns just minutes after a filling meal, this semi-humorous and highly saturated digital scroll continues to drool on.

While the most recent European trip has been concluded, there are sill some stories untold. Although many more meals and grand markets were experienced than stated, I don't want to simply pick up where everything left off (Northern Spain). Instead I wand to periodically give a tale of dizzy cheese binges, harmful amounts of pork fat, and succulent amounts of sweets. In addition to the travel tales, I will also be including my current consumptions within this city I reside: Denver, Colorado. From restaurants, to cheese, to home cooking, there is a lot within this city that goes unseen, unheard, and sadly, uneaten.

So, here's to a new chapter in this ongoing collection of frenzied food findings through gluttonous descriptions.

Let's eat...

Returning to the mid-west wasn't such a horrible event. There are some wonderful perks coming back into the dry and hot climate of this mile high time zone. The welcoming view of the mountains (through the haze of the Denver skyline, that is) can be such a warm invite back from places a far. The sights aside, I was actually excited at returning to the food within Denver. With the numerous establishments to anticipate, the one that I can't stop thinking of is the creative and always satisfying; Table 6.

Meals here combine the calming sensations of delight with the intriguing differences in creativity. The one dish in particular that I can't stop dreaming of, is as reminiscent of a after-school snack and as gripping as a intimate embrace.



The level of ridiculous excitement brought on by the clean simplicity of the initial plate could not be subdued. For I knew the mystery beneath the porcelain lid awaited something marvelous. This furious attack on my curiosity could only be repelled by breaking the clamped hold of the thin metal. As simple as that, I was suddenly looking down into a shimmering film of pectin and sugar. It smelled loosely of sweet wine and sticky syrups. The senses brought to light jams and jellies and preserves and as I sent my spoon deep within the container, I found a color unlike that of the top layer. Warm, smooth and thick with an aroma of strong dimensions. There is nothing else in the world that has that scent, and when one knows it, they never forget. My heart suddenly skipped beats, I understood, and I nearly broke into tears.

Foie Gras PB and J.


Brilliant, Amazing, Tremendous, Delicious, and all for me! This was a moment that brought so many wonderful thoughts to mind. Childhood and first love, comfort and decadence, excitement and acceptance. The foie was soft and luscious with such an amazing balance between richness and gaminess. The flavorful magic created by chef, Scott Parker swooned my palate and mystified my thoughts. The deep flavors of the foie gras was subdued by a bit of added cream, but the liver element was never lost, and with the plum jelly to compliment it, a special unity was created.

This one dish was enough for me to slightly forget of the wonders across the ocean. With people like chef Parker and places like Table 6, I know my time in Denver is going to be a delicious and memorable experience.

Pintxos for all, finally: San Sebastián!

Its all in that first step off the train. Right when a foot touches the shaded concrete platform of the small railway station. The immediate sensation of the situation is felt with such intensity, the eyes pulsate with joy. In that moment of collection, where one stands is no longer the country of France but across the sudden sun drenched boarder of Spain. Perceiving this place to be more than just a crossed boarder on the map, more than just from France into Spain, this is neither one nor the other for this is the Basque country.

This magnificent area of the world with bright green hills that emerge into rock laden mountains, and farmers filling every area of their land with potential growth. The Basque country isn't just an extension of Spain, the people of the area speak their own language and have a mind set uniquely their own. Even with the rocky political situation, the Basque area is immensely beautiful and highly welcoming. Just a few minutes into the area, the small sea side town of San Sebastián is the first and (my) final destination of the trip.

With the sun hot over head, I follow the path of people closer towards the serenading sounds of the sea. But there is something more to this city to experience than just warm beaches and lovely sun-rays. Greater than any attraction, the food scene of this tiny Basque city is one of the greatest in the worlds and its should be found, experienced and digested with immediate attention.

Throughout Spain these little morsels of pre-dinner bites are known as tapas but in San Sebastián they are called Pintxos. Going from bar to bar, ordering drinks and eating these little tastes become more than addictive, they become an obsession. While some common combinations of grilled chorizo can be found, there are also some innovative creations unique to certain bars.

The traditional french 'brandade' spread of salt cod is given a new vision within a coffee cup, looking like the foam of a similar cappuccino.

The ease of quickly ordering a small piece of lightly seared beef is greatly appreciated when that early evening hunger starts to distract.

Some plates are larger than others, and a nice mound of braised beef chuck with a creamy sauce of herbs easily rounded out an evenings selection.

Besides the delicious local wines to choose from, there is an un-carbonated cider than many people drink with their selections. A buttery and fresh crab meat tart was washed down in a fizzy fashion.

A tart and cool plate of creamy boiled octopus was tender and easily consumed in the mid-afternoon heat.

Fried shrimp drizzled with a sweet honey style sesame covered syrup were high in quality and quickly consumed.

Some things are raw at the bar and once ordered are then cooked on the spot. Briny and tastefully chewy tiny calamari with a garlic herb oil was something that could only have been good if made fresh.

Grilled quail was given a home in a 'nest' of some fried rice noodles while a slice of cured duck breast gave company.

Some of the more elaborate items are the ones that come off of the hot or 'caliente' part of the menu. Mini blood sausages and red peppers in a sauce of creamy potato was vibrant and deeply flavored.

More blood sausage and the unmistakable jamon Iberico with some dark mushrooms that tasted meaty enough to stand along side the ham.

Anchovies, mixed vegetable tortilla, jamon filled croquette and a gritty sack of roe were all delicious in their differences.
There are so many styles and types of food to try, but I would have to say my favorite part is the amount of foie gras that can be ordered for less than 4 euro. I always felt the French had the most foie world wide, but here in San Sebastián the fatty liver is widely available and in so many different forms.

A slice of terrine with marbled jamon, peppers and sardine was a magical bite of earth, pig and sea.

Many places had little puff pastries filled with different offerings. Lucky to find some that had big slaps of rich foie gras. Also were small terrine cuts of foie with strawberries, mango and membrillo, as well as lomo, Valdeon blue cheese and cured anchovies.

Similar to the puff pastry foie was this crisp pastry covered fried foie gras. Accompanying it was a smear of apples and a drizzle of deeply sweet saba-tasting sauce.

Again, with some bacalo and cheese filled croquettes,was more foie. This time simply seared and placed on some bread. Fatty, drippy and so delicious.
The plancha is a wonderful piece of cooking technology and its genius can be tasted though the crisp sear on a nice piece of duck liver. A common condiment throughout the pintxos bars within San Sebastian is a thin apple sauce that offsets the bold flavors of the richer dishes. With some foie this dish could have been taken as a desert.

It was amazing to see how late the Basque people stayed out eating. The pintxos crawl could start at 6 or 7 and wind up around 9:30 where dinner would soon follow. Some nights I never made it to dinner, Pintxos were all I needed. After just a few hours in San Sebastian a certain atmosphere could be felt. It was a feeling of calm, a satisfaction of the given situation, a simple acceptance of one's own life. The sun, the sand, the pintxos, its all part of the city and when things as simple as these are the only concerns, time doesn't seem to play a role.


The mornings after such a food frenzy night were recapped over a cup of cafe con leche and a sticky sweet pastry. In this city there were many different types of morning haze for the fellow travelers, the foggy and headache ridden ones from a night of heavy drinking, the sore skin and tired muscles from the long sun stays, and then the kind where one has to roll them-self out of bead from a night of multiple pintxos. I don't know if a hang over from food consumption is something to admire but, I couldn't think of a better city where it is more appropriate.

Lost and Found Again in Bordeaux

(As this world becomes more comfortable with technology, a detached feeling of assumed comfortably will arise. Computers are taken for granted, they give the illusion of security and we are none the wiser to how fragile it all is. Where a tangible photograph has to be physically destroyed for it to be gone, in the technological playing fields of digital pictures, things just seem to get lost. I have had a bad few days with computers and all things related to their improper way of storing data. While photos may have disappeared, memories will always remain and the stories must continue, even if there are no photos to match the descriptions.)


Just a few hours southwest of Paris, lying near the sea and close to the Basque Area, the city of Bordeaux is a place flowing with much more than just fermented grape juice. With a famous name for famous wine production, Bordeaux is a place known by many, even if they do have a hard time finding the exact location on a world map. The city itself isn't intimidating like Lyon but not as small as Aix. With a charm that is unmistakably French, a slight influence found among the people echos a feeling of the not too distant country of Spain. As different as Bordeaux may be from other French cities, its is still a grand example of French culture, cuisine and of course, Wine.

Rushing thought the streets in a pace matching that of a quick pour of local drink, I strode among the roads and twisting walkways of inner city Bordeaux. With a new tramway and areas designated for strolling pedestrians, the main center allows for many hours worth of enjoyment. Other than the shopping and the antiques, Bordeaux has a great market closer to the train station that reflects many of the regional culinary contributions.

Fresh, colorful, and warm; apricots filled with sweet and tart flavors that were more creamy than juicy.

Finding such a grand number of crimson berries, I felt compelled to indulge with little regard for anything other than obtaining a sensation of sweetness. Where the appearance gave my eyes a feast of delights, the taste gave my mouth a shocking sensation of explosive fruit. The berries were eaten fast, some were hardly chewed, my body felt a desire for more when just a few were tasted. An attachment arose as my limbs acted in an animalistic frenzy, grabbing berry after juicy berry, and eating in a way that mimicked survival tendencies.

With a palate perked from fresh fruit, I came across the unmistakable aromas of cured meat. Thick slabs of beautiful pork belly requested my attention, but lacking a kitchen, I sadly just looked.

Following the cuts of meat into rows of butchers, working with sharp knives and even sharper wits, I was overjoyed to find aged beef ready to find a home. The lack of a kitchen really killed me...

Walking from meat and following my nose towards fish, where stalls sat overfilled with glistening goods from the sea. Being neither weird nor uncommon, octopi and certain types of shark were among the day's catch.

The colors among the scales created an almost mosaic of fishy composition. The smell of a fish market is strong but not off putting, coming closer to a whiff of intense sea storm winds.

The bounty of the sea is seen with many eyes.
Markets never tire, in-fact inspiration arises after being submerged within ingredients such as those. After the time spent around farmers and meat sellers, hunger quickly followed and although I might not have had a kitchen to cook, the prepared cuisine of Bordeaux is some of best in France. Hoping for a meal that would represent the south-western area of France, I settled on a restaurant that has become quite famous within Bordeaux: La Tupina.
Before stepping though the front entrance, my senses were tickled with the distant waft of smoke. As I continued inward, a welcome was given that embraced me closer than any human ever could have. A giant fire place was roaring with hot flames that gave energy to the entire location. Plump ducks were being slowly roasted atop the dazzling fire, pots of duck fat were hot and waiting for potatoes that would be transformed into something magical, grids that would carry thick slabs of beef, and a station that held prepared saucisson sec and other house made products. This being at the mouth of the front doors gave me just the impression I was hoping to find.

Immediately after being seated, A large array of tantalizing tastes were offered. Raw vegetables such as spicy radishes, creamy cauliflower, and juicy tomatoes. The house bread was fluffy and crusty with a texture that begged to be combined with the local butter. Small crispy pieces of duck gizzards were added and acted like meaty versions of corn-nuts. A plate of fatty fired tripe covered in parley and strong garlic stuck my appetite and allowed for salivation to begin.

A coagulated chicken's blood 'cake' that brought me to a place of heavy contemplation. The blood wasn't too gamy but definitely savory. The texture was close to the way a soft cheddar cheese separates when eaten and when firm jell-o is cut. Again garlic and parsley were all that were added, and helped take this dark flavored dish into a much more desirable place. Being just thickened blood, I kept thinking to myself how great a frittata or omelet would taste with just a little chicken plasma. More than the flavors, and more than the slight novelty of eating blood, this was a recipe that is very old and more for people within poverty, and that is exactly what I wanted.

Bordeaux is one of the last major cities before reaching the boarder of Spain, which means the city is close to the gorgeous Pyrenees mountain range. Some amazing cheeses and ingredients are found within these mountains. One particular to admire is that of the rare breed of black pig. It is a smaller pig and carries a larger amount of fat than other types, making it superb for eating. I have always thought that Italy has the best pork products but one bite of this example tried to change my mind. Large pork flavor, fully cooked and still succulent, with a nice banner of fat running along the side. I was taken off my feet, such rich and clean tasting meat, all coming from a loin cut. I can't say if that pig was better than those in Italy, but it sure was amazing.

One major draw of this meal , and the restaurant, is the fact that all who dine get duck-fat fried potatoes. Held inside a thick terra-cotta bowl, smooth and dark fries were steaming and smelling of rich salty aromas. Even thought my pork dish came with a smooth potato mash, the fires were greatly welcomed and not a piece was left uneaten.

A large selection of dessert items tempted my ever present sweet tooth, but realizing the unease my stomach was beginning to get, I hoped for something light and sweet. Prune Ice-cream, lemon butter cake and a crispy bite of meringue came with a high amount of natural sugar that didn't tip the scales of my intake levels. The prune flavors were so rich but so controlled, and being cold, it acted just the way a dessert should be after a large meal; soothing and calming.
After a meal such as that, I could only walk towards my hotel with heavy eyes and a messy smile. Gracious for all the flavors from this wine capital within France, I slept with an obtained understanding towards the folks and traditions of this south-western location. But when I awoke, I felt there was just one more thing I needed to do before passing on.

Breakfast! What a better way to take in a city than though a bakery? The essential and the favorite Pain au chocolat with a strong cafe, satisfied as well as anything in Paris. Somethings just can not be over done.
Bordeaux, I wait for the day where I can return and eat a bit deeper within the large culinary history that has so greatly been created.

Sugar rushed and calorie filled in Paris

Paris is a big city with a large amount of ground to cover. Making sure the body has enough energy to run off of is very important. The metal health and physical vitality should always be in tip top shape for the long walks and leisurely strolls. While preparing for the countless treaded kilometers, a few daily bites of 'refueling' should be taken into consideration.

The best time of day to begin collecting calories for the journey is at the start with breakfast. A log shaped brioche filled with chocolate is always good for replenishing the bodies lost momentum from sleep.

Sometime breakfast isn't enough, and a second helping becomes necessary. A sweet and sticky raisin roll (and some bread for later) help hold one over until the time for lunch.

The classic quick and delicious fix at the start of the day is always a pain au chocolate. France and the city of Paris do them with incredible expertise and become such a desired item, one day is not enough to satisfy.

Obtaining the crispy edged, multi-layered, lightness of a pastry all rapped over a pair of sweet chocolate bars, is so much more than mere consumption, it's brain food.

literature and fat calories is a sure bet for a healthy body, productive mind and content soul.

After the joy of butter from the Pain au Chocolat, tarts become the only reasonable choice for accurate upholding of ones physique. A rich lemon curd filled into a crisp butter crust is tongue twistingly tart and stomach soothingly silky.

The great layout of the city allows for a 'patisserie' or 'boulangerie' shop to always be within the area of where ever one may be walking. Its also wise to grab something to fight the first of the morning hunger (such as another culinary piece of perfection utilizing the genius creation of pate feuilletee and chocolate)...

...as well as for that pre-lunch period where just a small taste is all thats needed (more chocolate and brioche dough seems to be an appropriate pick-me-up.)
Morning of breakfast and second breakfast are quite important times for the progression of high sugar levels in the blood, but another unforgettable piece of the day for sweet fixes comes after lunch and before supper (which is before dinner), at a time that can only be considered a 'snack-attack'.

Citrus in tart form is more than delicious, it's essential. This was an orange flavored curd, which wasn't as sweet as some of the lemon tarts of pervious, but just as refreshing. Crunchy tart crust was firm but didn't break apart in a mess making fashion. Two little madelines were thrown in, mainly to assure the proper amount of butter was going to be incorporated into the bodily system. Too little could have meant disaster later down the road.

The afternoon treats tend to be a touch more refined than those found in the morning. A 'Paris Brest' is a pate a choux pasty in the shape of a bicycle wheel filled with egg yolk enhanced pasty cream and covered with almonds. Such a delectable delight, a tasty treat, such as this should be savored with a dark espresso and a seat. If eating a Paris Brest with company make sure all have their own individual piece, for sharing is a humorous idea that can turn friends into enemies very quickly.

Chocolate is usually best saved for the desserts to end the days but when the craving calls, its very rude not to answer. Rather than finding a sliced piece of icing covered cake, little individual rounds of baked batter named 'Quatre Quart au Chocolat' are available. A type of dense pound cake that doesn't need the lubrication of chilled milk for the level of dark chocolate and fresh butter catapult this treat into the relm of euphoria.

Finding an elaborate multi-component chocolate mousse tart was like obtaining precious treasure. Hard pasty curst with a soft cushion of chocolate cake covered by a thick layer of light mousse, all topped with a shiny coating of dark ganache. An epic undertaking of chocolate filled decadence.

Mille-feuille, the classic mid day sugar high looks just as great as it tastes. The 'thousand layers' as it indicates, might not realistically add up but the tremendously crunchy layers that shatter into hundreds of rich shards fall atop the layers of thick pasty cream, where utensils become a necessity.

When traveled distances really start to give the shakes and strength seems to be an unobtainable thought, the essential remedy can always be found in the form of a cute cookie. Macaroons: sweet and so delightful with a thin interior of butter-cream offsetting the initial crunch of exterior baked egg whites. Chocolate and pistachio being great flavors for macaroons are to be savored at a pace that allows for contemplation, because when eating wonders such as these the world suddenly seems to be such a complacent place.
It would be a sham to go hungry in between meal in Paris. Luckily every street corner and major intersection has numerous places where the body can be re-vamped and get a kick start. Paris, a city of love reinterpreted in the form of sweet treats that should be desired, found, and consumed with a smile, for that fast heart beat isn't from sugar, its love.