Postcards from Paris: {A Moveable Feast, and indulging in comforts}

I can hardly think of spending a rainy day differently.

Tucked away off the famous rue Mouffetard, only a few blocks away from where Ernest Hemingway once resided with with wife Hadley and their baby boy, Bumby. I have so many romantic notions associated to this area, especially on grey, chilly days.

I can't help but reference A Moveable Feast when the opportunity arises, “Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light.” though it's a bit early for such melancholy, the air is changing tones and the smells of the city hint a different season, being tucked away warm and cozy makes everything feel in place. The experience becomes even better when comforted by a pot of rooibus tea and spiced, carrot cake. 

Sugarplum Cake shop is a unique establishment in Paris. It's indeed a rarity to find such decadent cakes in windows here. Behind the counter are mostly native English speakers who generously slice well-sized proporations from their beautiful cakes. One can assume they all share the English humor because above the cash register is a printed sketch of two stick figures; one is a waitress holding a teapot, and the other is a chap with a tie sitting at a table, she asks, "Would you like some tea?"he responds "No." It's titled Anarchy in the UK. 

For you, my dear readers, such a scene in many cases is all too familiar, but cream cheese frosting has become somewhat of a luxury for me. Of course with certain changes there also surfaces the need for certain comforts. When the melancholy does begin to settle in like Hemingway mentions, it's nice to know where such comforts reside.

Bisous,

Reba