Mme. Booshay, I thought I was finished posting the Paris trip. I was trying, really – trying to move on, and write nice American posts about grilling and burgers and summer heat. But – well, you mentioned Angelina, and that’s like waving a red flag. A big chocolate flag. Whatever – I love that place, and she must be posted.

On the Rue de Rivoli, near the Louvre and across from the Tuileries, Angelina is a venerable institution, a gilded turn-of-the-century lily where lunching French grand dames have grudgingly given way to international tourist masses. I’m sure the ladies are thrilled – but it’s lovely for the great unwashed. Now we can share their luscious hot chocolates and tart citron presses…

…the jewel-box pastries…

…and a sandwich Greg calls the best croque monsieur he ever had. Made on thick brioche and closely resembling a Monte Cristo smothered in gruyere cheese, it really was that good. Quick – what’s a croque madame? No clues – all I can tell you is that it’s delicious and requires an extra Zocor.

Whew! Now I’m done with Paris – really. I mean, if you show the slides too long, the guests fall asleep, right? Still, there’s the bright food stalls on the Rue Mouffetard…and the blue plates at the Vanves flea market…and that little video with the accordion guy on the bridge. Oh dear…maybe I’ll just put on some coffee.

It is a pleasure to eat in the salon at Angelina. But for a peek at the beautiful and tasty things you can take out of there, see Paris Breakfasts’ Angelina a Emporter.