Open Letter to That Green Pistachio Pastry Thing I Ate in Paris

Dear Green-Hued Pistacho-Flavored Pastry Thing,

I think about you all the time.

Ok. I’ll be honest. To be fair, it’s not all the time. But it’s a fair amount of the time. At least 10% of my food-thinking time.

Mostly, it is in the morning, when I’m trying to figure out what to eat for breakfast. I consider the granola, the yogurt, the fruit. And then I think of you.

Do you remember that day we spent together in Paris?

I dream of happening upon you in a glass case in the Marais bakery where you live, to pick you up and take you to the park. And then, to enjoy your sweetness with a coffee, and then maybe go back for more.

Oh, it would be so sweet.

But, usually, if I don’t go running in the morning, I’ll just have a banana. I try not to think of you in these cases.

And yet I can’t seem to forget you; you with your green-glazed top, and rich pistachio filling. Ooh la la. 

Can you maybe try to get the patisserie owner to open up a store in Brooklyn? Or, maybe you guys can just do international shipping? I can order a bunch!

Avec amour,



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