Michael/Tampa's comment about rose ice cream reminded me of Nice and walking to the sea in the early morning. We passed a bakery and stopped, I opting for a chocolate croissant while Larry selected something filled with...green?
And who wouldn't order a croissant in a country that accepts chocolate as a viable nutrient? Forget Wheaties. I say that's the breakfast food of champions!
We continued walking down the street and I took a nibble of his. I stopped. Larry kept walking. I stood there shocked at the utter delicious-osity of that bite. It wasn't sweet. It wasn't chocolate. It was savory puff pastry. It was spinach, for heaven's sake.
I was in love with a new taste sensation.
I actually turned around on the sidewalk and almost ran back to the bakery. Larry, by this time, had figured out something was off and just followed me. I pointed to the huge tray of square-cut spinach & onion-filled puff pastries and held out my hand of French coins...still too new to the country to figure out conversion factors before café au lait.
My sensory life changed that morning. I only regret that it didn't change enough for me to try out the sausages and pâtés that filled the morning farmer's market. I have photos of them, but no taste memories.
But as Michael says, one trip provides enough memories to crave another trip.
And who wouldn't order a croissant in a country that accepts chocolate as a viable nutrient? Forget Wheaties. I say that's the breakfast food of champions!
We continued walking down the street and I took a nibble of his. I stopped. Larry kept walking. I stood there shocked at the utter delicious-osity of that bite. It wasn't sweet. It wasn't chocolate. It was savory puff pastry. It was spinach, for heaven's sake.
I was in love with a new taste sensation.
I actually turned around on the sidewalk and almost ran back to the bakery. Larry, by this time, had figured out something was off and just followed me. I pointed to the huge tray of square-cut spinach & onion-filled puff pastries and held out my hand of French coins...still too new to the country to figure out conversion factors before café au lait.
My sensory life changed that morning. I only regret that it didn't change enough for me to try out the sausages and pâtés that filled the morning farmer's market. I have photos of them, but no taste memories.
But as Michael says, one trip provides enough memories to crave another trip.