I have found the font of the most amazing croissants.
I'm not too concerned with the anti-Islamic connotations - I would eat crucifix cookies if they were this delicious - I am more concerned that I am becoming alarmingly dependent on my morning pastry.
This is truly not like me.
This morning, after yoga, I stopped in at La Vielle Europe, where I've been grabbing my cappuccino and croissant for the past two and a half weeks, but lo and behold - no croissants! I looked at the other pastries, covered in pistachios or carmalized apples, and thought that a plain butter croissant was a big enough indulgence as is, so I left with my lonely cappuccino and a determination for finding some delicious sustenance for my post-yoga snack.
I actually started to get kind of worried about what I was going to eat! I have food in my apartment, but nothing really snack-worthy (deliberately so, because I am the WORST for subconscious boredom eating). And I remembered "Hey...I am pretty sure there is an actual bakery near my apartment. I will have to walk a half block out of my way, but it's nice out and they will probably have croissants..."
 |
| I will take you all home with me |
Worse sign? There was a line up at La Pain Dore of people wanting pastry. Read: They are damned god pastries.
And they don't even look like crescent moons, so my anti-Islamic indulgences aren't even remotely racist in shape!
And they are so good that, where I had been previously been considering kicking the habit, I am now convinced that I will be having daily croissants. I had been holding off on the weekends - there are other amazing decadent things to indulge in then. No more. Croissants every day-ay-ay, croissants every day.
I actually walked out of my house today, having just polished off my croissant-and-coffee-while-reading-a-fashion-magazine post yoga ritual, yellow patent leather ballet flats, rolled up cigarette jeans and aviators on, listening to Adele's new album, thinking "Who the fuck am I?"
Who indeed...
No comments:
Post a Comment