I am not French and after twenty some years of living here I still do not drink coffee.
Though the crossiants and baguettes cut into tartines had me from the get go.
Every morning there is a pot on the burner, heating milk for my French Husband's cafe au lait. Every morning all over France the baker is baking his bread. Every morning the farmer is milking his cows.
Heating milk is the easy part…
See the thickness of the wall, imagine three feet of stone. Just thought I shared that with you. Breakfast is about waking up and letting your mind wander in one million directions. Heating milk and thinking of the stone wall, made me run upstairs to grab the camera.
French Breakfast chez moi.
I prefer a glass of water to coffee or tea.
Butter comes in thick slabs. The one I buy is a chunky monkey which quickly dwindles down to something like miss shaped art.
What do you have for breakfast?
En fin.
The end.
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