Parisian Pastry Hop: Day 2


Day 2 of hopping around Paris in search of sweet had come quicker than I had been able to recover from Day 1.

But, whatever. I can convince myself otherwise.

And that, my friends, is exactly what I did.


Our first stop was Jean Paul Hevin, a famous Parisian chocolatier.


The shop was modern, elegant, and boasted of nothing less than chocolate shoes.


Colleen slapped me before she let me purchase that shoe for 58 Euros.

Resisting was far from easy.


We selected several chocolate truffles and were pleasantly surprised by the flavor sensations. A few high notes were in the honey, cinnamon, and fig truffles.


Because of it’s stand out beauty, we purchased the chocolate mousse bûche de Noël.


It was delectable, a chocolate lover’s dream.


Out next stop was Angelina, a Parisian landmark known for it’s rich hot chocolate.


The store had class.

Mad class.


And then I saw it.

The hot chocolate was bottled up..and it was solid.

And when hot chocolate is solid at room temperature, it means its going to be ridiculously thick when heated.


And Angelina, let me just tell you, your hot chocolate was the best I’ve tasted in Europe.

Or for that matter, like, ever.


And so naturally, I made the intelligent decision to bring some home, adding yet an another kilo to my already 40 kilogram overweight luggage.


Next up, Pierre Herme’s famous macaroons.


The flavor choices were quite unexpected, and included flavors such as: Chocolate Foie Gras and Foie Gras.

No comment.


As for me, I chose the rose and pear macaroon.


And after all of my years of macaroon ignorance, I have tasted the truth. The crunchy shell broke through to a  soft and decadent cream filling.


Colleen’s caramel macaroon was far from artificial. With such an intense flavor profile, this macaroon radiated in my memory for hours.


To take a break from the sugar-coma, we decided to stroll down Rue Montorgueil, a lively street with many gourmet food shops, small restaurants, and patisseries.


We stepped foot into a cheese shop and lost our minds.


Cheese after cheese. Row after row.

It was like heaven, a heaven that binds you up.


I was blessed with an energetic employee who was more than willing to share her recommendations to a tourist desiring to take cheese home to America (that would be me).


I sampled multiple cheese and couldn’t help but smiling.


My favorite was the French Morbier, a creamy cheese with an aged blue swirl through the center.


I purchased and had vacuum-packed about 5 different French cheeses to enjoy with my family.


An since we had been running around Paris burning calories all morning, we decided to nourish ourselves with love.

Creperie Josselin is a traditional creperie highlighted in blogs, travel guides, and by locals.



Josselin uses buckwheat flour to produce thin galletas that have a distinct crisp. (technically NOT crepes).


The inside of the restaurant was absoltuely packed.


The decorations have almost a medieval feel.


But to be quite honest, I didn’t really care what the place looked like, I was just ready to try a rel French crepe.


And they aren’t fooling by calling themselves a creperie. The menu consists of crepes and ONLY crepes. I have such a respect for restaurants who make a good thing perfect and don’t try to stray from it.


Colleen ordered the vanilla ice cream and sauteed apple dessert crepe.


Like O.M.G

No words.

Other than it being the BEST crepe I have ever had, it was also one of the most unique treats I have ever consumed. The ice cream had melted, but was incorporated inside of the crepe, which was laced with apples. The combination of the “milkshake” consistency of the cream, the fruit, and the softness of the crepe, it was like taking happy pills, really really big ones.


And after I had been lost in my own little world enjoying Colleen’s crepe,

mine had come.


The Vegetarian: A crispy galleta filled with egg, cheese, tomatoes, mushrooms, and onion.

Like seriously?

Was this real?


“In my own little corner in my own little world I can be whatever I want to be.”

I was having a moment, and if anyone would have got in the way, I might have bitten them.

 I know it doesn’t sound polite, but sometimes politeness is overrated.

Especially when we are dealing with French crepes.


And it was over.


 And we were sad.


Goodbye street full of creperies.

Hello Le Cordon Bleu.

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Colleen and I, due to her phenomenal scheduling skills, had scheduled a tour with Le Cordon Bleu (The infamous French culinary school that has taught kitchen prodigies such as Julia Child). We were taken through the entire building and were able to watch pastry students cutting sheet cakes and designing sugar sculptures. We saw the culinary students chopping and sauteing. And we saw Le Cordon Bleu in it’s entirety, from locker room to lecture hall.

And then I took a flyer and started seriously considering filling our the application.

“Slap me, Colleen,” I said.

“This could be bad.”


After the school, we made our way to Meert, the off-the-beaten-track pastry shop known for it’s vanilla bean waffles.


I mean, they have waffles on their celing.

The waffles are kind of a big deal here.


However, these waffles are like no other waffles you have ever taken part of. They are thin, almost wafer like, filled with a thick vanilla bean paste.


The waffles taste most similarly to  melted vanilla bean ice cream in a chewy sugar cone.


And hearing Colleen’s excitement about this well-known delicacies, I ripped open the bag and took a big bite.


And, while I wasn’t completely enamored by the product (as Colleen most definitely it), I greatly appreciated it for what it was and was completely intrigued by it’s uniqueness.

As evening dawned, we thought a celebratory baguette was in order.


Eric Kayser became the provider of our evening gift.

And Eric, your baguettes are bagging, probably my favorite in Paris.


And lo and behold, my baguette top did not stay in tact for long.


As our day winded down a bit, we made sure to stop at Blue Sucre, where the supposed BEST madeline of Paris was located.


So naturally, we ordered apple pie…err…madelines.


Yes. I’m a believer.


I was so encouraged by the madeline’s taste and texture, that I bought a madeline pan.

Because I could.

Our last bakery stop of the day was an American inspired French cupcake bakery, Berko.


The shop had a vibe of home, which immediately gave me a distinct feeling of peace and comfort.


We ordered the Biscoff cookie cupcake and carrot cake cupcake.

Both were very nice.


The store is known for it’s delectable cheesecake, which unfortunately, we did not partake in.


We moseyed around a beautiful district in Paris (Called St. Michel and the Odeon) and located a small tourist trap French fonduee restaurant. We took the chance and were greeted by a host of Frenchmen.


The meal for the most part of forgetable, but the company was far from it.


And what may have been the best thing I have eaten in Paris didn’t come from rra famoud Parisian chocolate or pastry shop.

It cam from  a tourist trap, a French tourist trap.


The unforgetable dish was a light salad in house dressing next to a fried and breaded goat cheese served with honey. The cheese was delicate and flavorful and the crust was crunchy and was the perfect complimenting note to the dish.


A complete list of the shop stops at on Day 2 of Parisian Pastry Hop (Below)


Ciao for now!