This blog is highly personal, makes no attempt at being politically correct, will occasionaly offend your sensibility, and certainly does not represent the opinions of the people I work with or for.
Breakfast on the other side of London
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When I was a young undergraduate student in Paris, I used to tease my flatmate (she is now assistant professor at Harvard) about something funny she used to do: take the Metro (Tube) in pyjamas in the morning to go buy some bread few tube stations away, for our breakfast at home, because she claimed that her favourite bakery was significantly better than the three or four we had around the corner.

Bakeries in France tend to be excellent, and those we had near our building were very excellent, so the idea that her taste was so acute and that she cared about it so much to go into the trouble to take public transports to get the exact bread she wanted was remarkable.

I myself appreciate food to absurd levels. I can trace a part of it to the fact that, as a kid, my family wasn't rich and more than once I went to bed with an empty stomach. Surprisingly this didn't lead me to learn to eat everything, but to the contrary to be particularly picky about what I put in my mouth. I think that Anton Ego (the food critic) in the movie Ratatouille put it very well, when he said "It's because I love food that I accept to put it in my mouth" (..., or something, I need to watch the movie again).

Anyway, this morning, I travelled all across London to go to my favourite bakery, all the way up north, in Golders Green. A Jewish, family owned, award winning, bakery with some French connections where the croissants are not truly identical but still the closest to French bakeries you can find on this side of the Channel. The travel itself wasn't a waste of time because as usual I was diving in source code on the laptop, but still a part of me was wondering "Really Pascal ?! Is this really that important ?", but then after the 10 minutes walk from the station, I just stood in the middle of the bakery enjoying the smell and then two minutes later, standing outside in the sun (looks like we are heading for another amazing summer in the UK), holding a bag full of various breads, I put the first bit in my mouth...

It felt "Oh dear God! This was **totally** worth it." I could actually do that (go there before going to work) everyday, there simply is no better feeling in the entire world...

That together with the fact that I have been particularly emotional over the past 18 hours is probably the reason why I then had tears running down my cheeks...

Update: The quote wasn't anywhere close (^_^)
See first video for the quote and second because it's one of the best monologues in the history of cinema...



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