I should be ashamed of myself, eating my way across France and Italy.
I should, but I'm not. It wasn't my fault. Those patisseries are irresistible.
Who could possibly pass them by without stopping for at least an eclair or a tiny raspberry tarte?
Since I went with an adorable husband who is also a foodie, we stopped everywhere.
Here a pain chocolat, there a diminutive loaf of fig bread. We munched our way from one city to another.
After all, how can you say you've really experienced a place until you've tasted it, right?
And we passed many of them without stopping for so much as a drop of cafe latte. Just a peek through the tempting windows was eye candy enough after you've already tried tuiles and chocolat chaud, meringues and apple pastry.
And then, just as we decided that the bakers of Europe have perfected the high art of baking, we wandered into Pompeii...
only to discover bakeries very much like this existed even then, with commercial ovens and bakeries that had counter top displays and plumbing in their shops.
It would seem that bakeries in Europe have been tempting passersby for centuries!
I don't know if women ages ago came home determined to copy the goodies they ate, but I am searching the web for recipes for those light and airy macarons I tasted in Aix-en-Provence and the fig bread we munched in Villefranche. I can hardly wait to heat up the oven!
A taste of Paris (or Nicee or Aix-en-Provence) right in one's own kitchen. Yum.
