When you get the perfect baguette everything is right with the world. Baguette means stick or wand in French and it can, indeed, perform magic.
I may be guilty of biting off a crisp corner on the way home, almost always.
Ever since I was a kid, inhaling the warm, yeasty smell of fresh bread helped to envelop me in a feeling of comfort and home. I am sure it is that way for many people.
My travel in the South of France is up, for now, but, as ever, it has helped me recalibrate a bit.
New discoveries included freshly picked Eze lemons, fluffy ponies at the flea market, and the cutest lunch cafe (practically, in somebody’s living room) in La Colle Sur Loup. I’ll let you in on a secret – it’s aptly called Comme à la maison.
p.s. {A sneak peak at that lunch & lots more from my travels and impressions over on instagram}
I remember going to Eze in 1951!
I think I’d remember seeing you there 😉
I very much miss good French baguettes. Ah, they’re so incredibly simple (in terms of just eating bread and butter) but SO perfect! I’m glad that you’ve had some time to sit back and recalibrate. Life definitely gets the better of us in terms of busyness at times xxx
I really let myself indulge in the good French butter – the one with the salt crystals is my favorite kind – liberally while I was there 🙂 xx
Haha every day with a baguette is a happy one! Enjoy your time in France 🙂
Cheers
Choc Chip Uru
Agreed, Uru! Thanks.