This week in Paris we had our first snowfall. I was at the dentist, and when I came out, the sidewalks were damp from the wet rain that had fallen while I’d had my semi-annual detartrage.
Then, as I walked up the rue Montorgueil, the annoying rain turned to little icy bits, then to large snowflakes, dusting everything, from the brick sidewalks, then coating my arms and shoulders. It was so blinding that it drove the communists distributing leaflets back into their headquarters. (And those people are pretty tough…or so they’d like us to believe.) As for me, those snowflakes drove me right into Stohrer, Paris’ oldest pastry shop, because this time of the year—and only this time of the year—they make my favorite little treat: Zimtsterne.