gourmande.

If/when I move back to the US, I swear to sweet baby Jeebus, I will miss the jaw-droppingly savory, delicious, candy-like taste of fresh strawberries in the spring. You think you've tasted strawberries before --  you know the ones that are about the size of your fist you can find year round in most supermarkets. But then you stroll through the French market in early-April and the scent of fresh strawberries takes over your better judgement and suddenly you're dropping 3,50E on a tiny plastic basket of the most glorious red berries you've ever seen.

I would put this right up there on my list of reasons I love living here, right below the accessibility of xuxos  (pronounced "chuchos") in the Catalan region of Spain. In a nutshell: pastry of the GODS.