DAILY DISPATCH 001 (PARIS)

Babka at Mamiche, mustard in a tube, and life-changing apple tart at Le Petit Lutetia.

Bonjour from Paris!

If you’re thinking: Wasn’t she just there? I was. But I’m back, bébé. Paris is always a good idea.

I’m working from here for the next few days and, since I know I’ll be eating a lot of good things (read: taking copious amounts of pictures that would otherwise never see the light of day), I’m planning to share it all in these daily dispatches.

I’ve been to Paris quite a few times in the last couple of years and have started compiling my ultimate personal guide to this perfect city, similar to this one for Rome, so keep an eye out for that later this month.

For now . . . here’s day one in Pareeeee!

Last night, just before the sun set, I met my friend Chloe for a pre-dinner sweet at a bakery that’s been on my Paris wish list for years: Mamiche. Although Mamiche is known for its sourdough and croissants, my favorite thing was the chocolate babka, which was cut to order, piping hot, and gooey on the inside.

I think I might need to go back for more.

Chloe and I strolled in the rain from Pigalle over to the Left Bank, where we wandered into Jacques Genin for pâtes de fruits. Then, we found ourselves at La Grande Épicerie, where we contemplated buying every squeezable condiment imaginable. I’m still thinking about the mustard.

For dinner, I wanted bread with butter and salad with fries. At Le Petit Lutetia, I got it all. Like Mamiche, Petit Lutetia is one of those Paris places that has always eluded me. I’ve tried to go at least three times but, for one reason or another, it hasn’t ever worked out.

Last night, it finally did.

If I’m being honest, I wanted to go to this restaurant for the famous chocolate mousse. (If I’m being really honest, I *have* walked in just for dessert before, which obviously didn’t fly.)

So yes, we got the mousse for two, which was actually mousse for twelve. And even though I couldn’t stop eating, it looked like we didn’t even make a dent in the salad bowl of silky chocolate.

And yet, you might be as surprised as I was to find out that my favorite bite of the meal wasn’t the mousse. It was the fine aux pommes, or “very thin apple tart.”

I likebutdontlove an apple dessert. I’ll have a taste if someone else orders it, but I’m not usually seeking out an apple pie or crumble or galette. Thank god Chloe insisted that we get one, because this was truly the best apple thing I’ve ever had.

The crust was delicate and crisp. The apples, neither soggy nor sour, were the perfect amount of sweet, sliced into segments no thicker than a potato chip. Yet the pièce de résistance was the little cup of caramel that came on the side of the plate, which I not only dunked forkfuls of tart into, but spoonfuls of mousse, too.

No wonder I couldn’t fall asleep until three in the morning.

À bientôt!