The truth? I cheat on New York quite often. I suppose I wouldn’t have this blog otherwise. I love to come and go. I love to visit the same spots often. And of all the places I tend to go, Paris has really been my main squeeze. This glorious relationship started to get serious about 10 years ago and it’s been going strong ever since. I had visited numerous times before then, but there was just something that “clicked” about a decade ago. I felt the city’s energy differently. It was intoxicating. Every time I went, I would get swept up. The language. The architecture. The culture. The food. It was always exactly what I needed to clear away the NYC cobwebs and to reset anew.
Needless to say, I’m currently tapping away at my laptop admiring the terra cotta chimney caps dotting the skyline from the view on my Paris apartment’s terrace. I see my secret amour about twice a year. This time, it’s May and absolutely glorious. The sun is bright. The air is crisp. It’s about 64 degrees (18ºC). It’s just perfect, really. But, it’s also perfect because today I tasted something that was impossibly delicious.
Perfection seems to be something that Paris shares with many of my favorite cities and towns. In this case, as you all know, Parisians excel at pastries (among other things). And if you know me well, you’d know that 90% of time I could care less about them. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth. Sue me. My 97-year-old Granny still balks in disbelief when I say I’m lukewarm on candy. (She’d still kill for a piece of chocolate at 7am.) But, in Paris, I always seem to be swayed. Hmm…I wonder why? Could it be ohh….all the delicious butter and sugar and cream? Perhaps. Which brings me to a little secret I’d like to share. I’ve talked before about my favorite French pastry and my favorite French pastry shop. I was hoping on this trip I could pop in again to pick up my beloved treats…but, I was sad to discover that not once…but twice, I struck out. I visited two mornings in a row. No Kouign Amanns. In defeat, I did end up trying a flaky, citrus pastry that sort of looked similar, but as nice as it was, it still fell short. At this point, I was on a mission. A mission not terribly easy either as this particular pastry typically hails from Brittany — Northeastern, coastal France, where salted caramel is like currency.
Anyway…on to my bombshell reveal: I think I found the Kouign Amann to beat all Kouign Amanns in Paris at Maison Georges Larnicol. Funny thing is, I had passed this shop so many times on Rue de Rivoli before, always assuming it was more of a fancy chocolate shop. I was never drawn in. But this time. I was so glad I did. It’s impeccably organized. Like a confectionary museum. (And if you’re into chocolate, I guarantee you won’t be leaving without a few truffles in hand.) But don’t get too distracted. What you must turn your attention to are the Kouignettes (as he calls them). Georges has outdone himself here. He offers at least six different varieties of mini Kouignn Amann pastries and they are to die for. I’m a purist. So, if you’ve yet to try this magical treat, go with the original. There’s a good reason these are mini, too. And I think this is why I like these ones better. Kouign Amanns are notoriously rich and are typically the size of a cinnamon bun.
My best description would be that they’re like a dense, extra buttery and sugary croissant (but even that’s not doing it justice). You really only want to eat half or even a third of one. So, the fact that these are “mini”, allows you to indulge in one all to yourself. I took one bite and couldn’t get over how well balanced it was. Gooey, caramelized sugar embedded in tightly wound pastry with a crispy sugar crust. Utterly delicious. Not going to lie. I bought three. I ate one for breakfast a few hours ago. And I plan to do it all over again tomorrow. You only live once.
Treat yourself and stop in the next time you’re in Paris. There are four Maison Georges Larnicol boutiques across the city. You won’t be disappointed.
These Kouignettes ruined my last afternoon in Paris. My family and I went to the Sacré-Cœur/Moulin Rouge area one morning before our Louvre ticket times. As we were scouring some tourist shops, my older sister dipped off into a little bakery without telling anyone. Ten minutes later we all meet back up to continue our walk from Sacré-Cœur to Moulin Rouge which is about 20 minutes. As we’re nearing Moulin Rouge she pulls out a paper bag that says Maison Georges Larnicol and inside are these cute little Kouignettes. My first bite was like a delicious explosion of flavor, I’d never tasted anything so perfect. It was like a croissant on crack. Buttery, soft, sticky and only a little bit too sweet, they were exactly the kind of pastry I like. After my one and only bite I couldn’t stop thinking about the Kouignette, but we had already wasted all the time we had before going to the Louvre. With only 2 Maison Georges Larnicol shops open and a flight early the next morning, I had little to no chance of getting another one on that trip. So we went on about our day, with me unable to forget about the very delectable treat. After spending hours in the tourist packed Louvre, seeing the Eiffel Tower, and having a good Parisian meal, the Kouignette still hadn’t left my mind or my tastebuds. I wanted it. Bad. So I went on a 30 minute trek to the nearest Maison Georges Larnicol and I made it just 30 minutes before closing! Luckily they still had a selection to choose from but the original buttery flavor still stood out as my favorite with no competition. I got 9 of them, grabbed some coffee and enjoyed with my family. These Kouignettes are a MUST TRY. I’m not kidding.