la meilleur chose

Let's get one thing cleared out of the way before I begin this entry -- I'm a fat kid. A foodie. Someone with a massive, insatiable and seemingly bottomless appetite. Ok, disclaimer done.

Today was one of those days that I have dreamt of having in France. Not so excitingly, I spent the morning teaching lessons and then later went into the city center to get some Christmas shopping done. We all know that after a day of looking around the shops, all you want to do is crash out and enjoy a nice brew -- not to mention the fact that I normally become ravenous after walking around and spending money (particularly when its 42 degrees outside, wahh).

So, I'm on my way home and decide to stop by my bakery, Le Secret du Bon Pain, to pick up a baguette for dinner. I walk inside and say my ritual "bonjour" but there isn't anyone behind the glass. I stand there awkwardly for a few moments, salivating at the tartes aux fraises, when a cheery looking woman turned the corner from the kitchen, carrying in her arms a fresh load of baguettes. She must have noticed my eyes become the size of dinner plates because she looked up and chortled a little bit. I composed myself and asked her, "are they fresh?" to which she responded, "the freshest, and still warm."

I refrained from drooling all over the floor and said, "une baguette quotidienne, s'il vous plait" which is a bigger baguette than I normally get, but how could I not -- it's FRESH FROM THE OVEN, PEOPLE.

She reached over and handed it to me as I gave her my money, the lovely warmth of fresh bread in my hand. I smile big at her and gave an inadvertently english "mair-see!" to which she laughed again and wished me a good evening.

::drool::

Since I hadn't eaten since breakfast and it was nearly 4:30, ravenous would be an understatement; I was practically running home to be sure that the bread wouldn't get cold. I made it about halfway when I took my first bite, still so warm and delicious. By the time I made it up the stairs to my apartment, about a third of it had been eaten. I plopped down on my clic-clac and devoured nearly the entire thing, leaving a disarray of crumbs everywhere, which I have yet to sweep up.

I've lived here nearly three months and spent four months in Aix and in that time, I have ordered many a baguette, always hoping I manage to go during the right times of day, when the bread is the freshest. Not that I really have any complaints about the bread I do get, it's just as nice -- but there is certainly something to be said about really really fresh bread, isn't there?

I have to say, that is one thing that France really kicks everyone's asses in. Sorry, America... At least you have better churros.