My friend David told me about a new macaron place up in the 18th by Arnaud Larher, so we scheduled a "research excursion" to yesterday afternoon to go check it out. The weather was, however, not ideal. It was 80°F, with what felt like 80% humidity. Sticky, yucky. And not even sunny. Not the best weather for schlepping around Paris, but when there are macarons involved I’ll go almost anywhere, under any climatic conditions. Even when I’ve had a bad day.
At Arnaud Larher, at 57 rue Damremont, 18th.
The boutique happens to be next to one of my favorite bakeries in Paris, Arnaud Delmontel, so we stopped in and split a sweet Brittany pastry called kouign amann first (David insisted I hadn’t lived until I tried one). Sugar fix satiated, we headed next door into the minimalist setting of Arnaud Larher. We chose a selection of macarons: coffee, pistachio, dark chocolate and caramel (because David prefers the classic flavors) and the Pear-Raspberry-Sechouan Pepper (because I like the weird flavors).
David takes a lot of photos for his blog. Unlike my small piece of merde, his camera actually takes great photos, too. We always ask permission before taking photos inside someone’s shop. The ladies here were very nice and indulged us. It doesn’t hurt to buy something before unpacking your equipment.
David’s photo of moi in macaron heaven.
No ice, but a cool drink nonetheless.
Apparently there’s a crack problem in Paris, too.
Rebecca runs a shopping tour company of the same name, so she knows her stuff! Find the book on Amazon, in English bookstores in Paris, and in stores like Anthropologie in the States.
I’m probably just taunting the weather gods to get up to more mischief, but I’m quite happy that it’s cool (66°F) and overcast today. I even saw a few fat raindrops on my windowsill. Because if it’s going to be overcast (and therefore impossible to get rid of the deathly pale pallor of my legs) it might as well be refreshingly so. Unfortunately, the weather is supposed to remain this way for the next week or so, at least (not that I trust the forecasters to get it right more than five minutes in advance), so I may never get to wear my adorable new summer shorts. Contrary to the traditional "no shorts in Paris" rule, shorts are actually very chic this season. But these legs haven’t seen sunlight above the knees in over two years, and I’m allergic to the orangey hue of self-tanners, so despite my whining, I really would love the sun to come back. You hear that, weather gods?!