After a heavy workout, Nan and I have made a bad habit of stopping by the mini-bakery/ restaurant across the street for a coffee with a fleur de sel croissant. We normally eat at the gym's cafe but less so after they removed their bakery display and began packaging their baked goods. What good is exercise when there is no reward?
Apparently the baker was trained by Pierre Herme, (who according to me is the God of the Macaron). We haven't met her yet but we feel we know her through her baked goods. The macarons are absolutely gemlike and delicious - as close to Laduree as we can get in Boston.
And last Saturday, I couldn't resist their apple tarts. The apples are pared and shaped into a rose on top of the pastry. They were stunning and yes, they taste like Paris!
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