One thing I haven't been discussing cos-I've-been-too-absorbed-in-my-petty-issues-of-day-to-day-living-and-trying-to-figure-out-which-personality-disorder-I-have-come-down-with-today, is...CHOCOLATE!
(trust me, in terms of food, we've got a lot to thank South America for)
Generally at some point every couple of weeks or so, I'll find myself lost, ahem, wandering casually through a posh area of Paris, and stumble across what I can only describe as an example of an Haute Couture chocolate shop.
Now, with Easter approaching, there is a torturous assortment of chickens, rabbits (and for some reason I can't fathom, gnomes - one chocognome I spotted was meant to have a chococarrot in his chocohand, except that the carrot had sort of slipped elsewhere down to his choco-netheregions and he was looking pretty excited about Easter is all can say) in the window of pretty much every other patissier, while the High Class chocolate get on with their weird and wonderful creations as part of the day to day showing off...er, business, and they chuck in the odd chicken to prove they're paying attention.
Yesterday night, while displaying my astute knowledge of the layout of inner Paris ('where the hell we NOW? And where's the putain de metro station gone?')to a visiting friend, we found ourselves (intentionally of course) on Rue Saint Honore (think Cartier), I passed by the creme de la creme of all the chocolate concoctions I've seen thus far. A giant exotic bird made of dark and white chocolate with a chocolate waterfall in the background. Wonder if they've managed to scrub my nose print off the glass yet?
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