It's hard to imagine that there is a single place in New York that evokes the cobble stone alleys of Paris more than Balthazar and its tiny attached bakery. And nothing makes one feel like a long legged, gorgeous Parisian with a baguette in one's satchel and a beret on one's head more than carrying a little Balthazar bag around–even if it is on a dirty, delayed V train into Queens.
Of course, having never been to Paris myself and relying solely on imagined images of Dior dreams, and Jacques Brel wishes, what do I know? I know this at least: these are adorable and sweet, and nothing makes me happier than sweet things to eat that are adorable. The days flavor was raspberry marzipan and they made a scrumptious dessert that completely elevated the meal of frozen White Castles and made us forget we were in paint splattered sweat pants.