As I plow through my summer reading list, much of which centers around Paris and its delectable goodies, I think back to some of my most memorable petit déj around Paris. I am not one to have a long list of must-hits in Paris. I tire of reading and hearing about the same spots. I prefer to wander about as I do so well and happen upon a breakfast spot. After all, there’s a lot you can gather about the yumminess of its breakfast offerings by how many people are congregated out front on any given morning. And thank goodness for those terraces… they’re better than online reviews in helping to determine if a place is worth my euros.
At my last apartment, right next to Canal Saint Martin, I took regular long morning walks in all directions. One of my favorite routes for when I didn’t mind being amidst the bustle of the city was through the haut Marais and around by Bastille. Usually I was dressed for a serious workout (😉), but on occasion I would put on sensible clothing au cas où there was a good reason to stop.
One of those “sensibly dressed” mornings I found myself unable to resist the temptation of that freshly baked bread scent. Only this time, not only was I sensibly dressed, I was also carrying a bit of money with me. Jackpot! I zeroed in on a rather nondescript place on rue Saint Antoine terrace dwellers were lingering over some sort of Eggs Benedict, it appeared. The care that looked to have gone into that was all that I needed; I found a cozy spot facing the busy street and waited for the server to arrive. Although it had been a fancy brunch dish that had lured me in, I am not one for frou frou breakfast dishes unless I know all the details of how it was made. It’s Paris anyway, who needs more than a croissant or a crêpe? Me, it turns out. Yep, I ordered not just a croissant, not just a crêpe, but both. And it was perfect.
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