Penis bread epiphany

You might think, from the title, that perhaps I have had some sort of epiphany about penis bread, but no.  Despite the fact that I post about it every so often, I don't actually spend much time thinking about penis bread at all, unless of course I am wandering through the Marais and find that the always-delightful Legay Choc bakery has done something new and exciting with it, which they did for the holiday of Epiphany.  This holiday is rather a big deal in France, and if I could be bothered to go into detail about it, I'm sure you'd find it very interesting.  But I'm lazy and there's a whole internet out there and I wouldn't want your mad Googling skillz to go to waste, so go ahead and look it up if you like.

But the point is that Epiphany in France involves a special cake called a galette, which you can buy anywhere here all throughout January.  Galettes come in all sorts of variations, but I've never seen this version before...

Inflatable dogs

Gentle readers, I promised you inflatable dogs a few days ago, and here they are in all their...umm...glory.  This is from a window display in the Maje shop in the Marais - I believe the outfits on the mannequins were very nice, but I was too distracted by the inflatable dogs to really notice... (and also, is it weird that I kind of want one?)

More penis bread

Gentle readers, isn't January a depressing month?  The festive season is over and a long gloomy winter lies ahead.  Today it was particularly grey and grim and windy and rainy in Paris and I'm attempting a (much-needed) month-long detox.  Sigh.  So you can see how I need to be cheered up, but never fear, because......penis bread to the rescue!!!  You may recall that I used to live in the Marais and my old neighbourhood bakery there sells this rather delightful item, which I have posted about in the past (Penis bread).  But it seems that they have expanded their repertoire, and I feel I must share this awesomeness with you.

Firstly, the penis baguette - please note that it comes in both poppy and sesame seed to delight your gourmet tastebuds, which is very important, I'm sure you'll agree:

Then we have the chocolate-chip penis brioche.  I'll admit that it looks slightly dodgy, but I assure you that it's delicious:

And finally, quite possibly the greatest thing in the world: the penis tarte aux framboises:

Gentle readers, the tarte aux framboises is already my favourite thing in any bakery, but shaped like this?  How much temptation can one little blogger resist??  I haven't actually bought one of these yet, but that's only because it's about twelve inches long (make your own jokes here, you cheeky little monkeys) and should probably be shared (okay, that's enough smut from you - honestly, what kind of a blog do you think this is?  Get your minds out of the gutter...because I'd like to be alone down there.  Hee!  Tip your waitresses, I'm here all week!).  Anyway, the point is that I was going to wait for the proper occasion to buy one of these, but with this being January, I'm sort of thinking the proper occasion might be any damn time I feel like it?  I'll let you know when I succumb...

NB - should you find yourself in Paris and then find yourself in the Marais, Legay Choc bakery can be found on the rue St Croix de la Bretonnerie, at the corner of rue du Temple.  Enjoy!

Things you might see on the street #23 (cat)

Hot day.  Flat cat. So flat, in fact, that we had to make sure he was still breathing (he was).  Way to relax, little dude.

Penis bread

Gentle readers, did you think I'd forgotten?  Yes, I know it was waaaay back in May when I posted about my local bakeries in the Marais (Crab bread) and promised you a photo of the famous local penis bread, but didn't the anticipation just make it all the more...delicious?  And since you had to wait so long, I'm sizing the photo as extra-large for your added enjoyment.  Oooh la la!

Favourite Paris photos - 40

Should I feel insulted or complimented?

Y'know, I haven't totally gotten back on track with this blog, and I think it's because I've tried to get back to normal posting even though I still have lots of things to yap about that happened during my looooong absence.  So, clearly I'm going to have to backtrack and talk about those before I can get back into the regular swing of things.  Okay?  Okay.  

So, one of the things that happened is that I was apparently mistaken for a gay man.  On one of the few nights out I had in July (when I wasn't busy packing like a demon, working like a demon, or generally stressing out like a demon - there were a lot of demons involved, is what I'm saying), two friends of mine were celebrating their impending move to Berlin.  It was one of those evenings that start out with nice, civilized cocktails and end up with stumbling home at 6am.  Anyway, one of our merry group was a very nice Austrian guy, let's call him Herr Wienerschnitzel - he was cute and charming, but I immediately pegged him as gay and thought no more about it.  So we all caroused from bar to bar and ended up in a skeevy nightclub, which is where we remained until 6am.  At that point, our group scattered in various directions, and it turned out that Herr Wienerschnitzel and I were going in the same direction, as he lived a block away from me in the Marais.  So he and I strolled home from St Michel to the Hotel de Ville, passing Notre Dame  along the way (and here's a little tip for you - if you ever want to get a photo of yourself in front of Notre Dame with absolutely NO ONE else around, 6am is the time to do it), until we arrived at my door.  I started to say goodnight, when, with no warning whatsoever, he suddenly pounced on my face and started smooching the hell out of me.  Gentle readers, not much surprises Miss K anymore, but I did not see that one coming!  I lived in the Marais for five months, so I do have a tendency to assume that every handsome, well-groomed and well-dressed man I see is gay, but even after Herr Wienerschnitzel snogged my face off and claimed he was straight, I'm still not convinced about him.  I think I know what happened - as I've told you before, I'm tall and have shoulders like a lumberjack, plus I also have a deep voice.  The pickings were mighty slim in that nightclub, so if he ignored my cleavage and long hair, I was probably the closest thing to an attractive man that he could find.  So I'm still trying to decide if that's an insult or a compliment to me...

It started with nudity...

So this is how things went the other day - I was out on my postcard-sized balcony, drinking a cup of tea (as is my habit of a morning), when I noticed that in the building across the street, there was a woman sitting in the window one floor lower than me.  She was bent over, painting her toenails and all I could see was her back - I assumed she was wearing a halter top because it was a hot day, but noooooo.  When she sat up, there she was in all her nakedness, and I do mean all.  I nearly choked on my Earl Grey - Miss K is not what you'd call a prude, gentle readers, but if I'm going to see that much unclothed flesh that early in the morning, I'd really prefer it to be in male form and look like Hugh Jackman, if it wouldn't be too much to ask?

Anyway, after that, I thought I'd go for a little stroll around Paris, which somehow turned into a rather long hike from where I live in the Marais over to the Eiffel Tower and back again.  And along the way, there were some moments (nice ones, odd ones, and just plain perplexing ones) I thought I'd share with you:

Sweet elderly couple snuggled up together in the Tuileries.

Another "Paris being ridiculously picturesque" moment.

Why is there a large statue of South American revolutionary hero Simon Bolivar in Paris?  I'm rather intrigued -  am going to have to look that up...

A brass band playing a somewhat unexpected choice of music:

And not far away,  a French dixieland band - who even knew that there is such a thing as French dixieland??  It was news to me...

Then a whole skip full of books being thrown away, and people swarming in like sharks to get them:

Yeah, because you just never know when a French book on cardiology or a German book about make-up techniques will come in handy...

Some rather awesome street art:

A bridge which I am always nervous about walking beneath, because it looks like it's held together with spit and baling wire:

A guy practicing his tightrope walking skills:

And a large display of power tools.  I don't know, I never really pictured Parisian guys being that interested in the relative merits of different types of band saws and drill presses, but apparently power tools are a universal thing for guys...

 

And that was my day...