Les Glucides


Hi y'all. The early adopters among you might remember me from some of La Saloperie's earliest posts last autumn. (Where does the time go??) For the newcomers, I'm Jen. Isa and I were roommates in college and these days we maintain a startling level of intimacy via WhatsApp.  I live in Paris with an Irishman and a hypothetical dog named Bart (pictures when he materializes). Mostly I am a broke frustrated writer who's considering law school.

As much as I love Isa, the Irishman, and my imaginary dog, the one thing that I really, honestly, truly-madly-deeply couldn't live without is sugar. It's a problem. The endocrinologists are saying it gives you cancer, and I've been kinda not really dieting since I was 13, but bury me with my Bueno bars, I love the stuff. So of course Isa and I a profité de all this town's glorious glucides.

One of our first stops was a little boulangerie not far from my house called Du Pain et des Idées that turns out fancy-as-f*ck pain au raisin from a gorgeous Bel Epoque storefront. Whereas most bakers use brioche dough for their raisin spirals, this place uses croissant pastry, giving their viennoiseries a flaky, delicate feel. Plus they don't stop at raisins. Options include praliné, rum raisin, and my favorite, chocolate pistachio.

We cleaned the place out, grabbed coffee at the grocery store across the street and settled down on the bank of the stagnant, green Canal at the end of the street to dig in.

The next day we boogied on down to tourist central, past the Louvre (see: palatial columns, above) and the Palais Royal across the street. (I like to imagine some French Renaissance proto-Xzibit going, "Yo (majesty) dawg! I heard you like palaces so we built a palace next to your palace, so you can see a palace from your palace!")

Anyway, it was rainy so we wandered around the galleries of the Palais Royal looking at jewelry, designer, and designer consignment stores. Isa also stood on a column in one of the courtyards. It's modern art, y'all.

When it was a little clearer we made our way to Angelina, a world-famous tea room that serves really delectable hot chocolate. Disclaimer: the place is totally overpriced and you have to wait in line, but that's how you know you're in Paris.

On the way home we picked up a selection of pastries from a corner bakery where the lady baker jovially explained her selection and patiently waited for us to make our choices. We wound up taking four decadent creations and by the time the Irishman got home that night there was still a third of a pastry left for him. I thought that was very noble of us ;)

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