Beautifully-arranged patisseries

I appreciate these single-serving, perfectly-aligned tidbits of dessert.

The colors are great. And I'm sure that each one has its own special vocabulary word. I'd identify them by pointing, probably, or secondarily by color and shape and weird hand gestures.


This post's theme word is larruping, (adv) "very," or (adj) "excellent." What larruping, sweet desserts! What larruping sweet desserts!

Buttons on chickens

In further developments on the Easter-season chocolate window-display front: chocolate chickens? Check. Covered in buttons?

Check.

I'm not sure if the buttons are also edible, or if they're just... buttons... that the window-dresser had in surplus. (Manager: "Add more color!" Employee: "All the chocolate is brown or white." Manager: "It needs to be more colorful!" Employee: *shrugs*)

Other seasonal displays of sweets: previously, previouslier.

This post's theme word is temerarious, "presumptuously or recklessly daring or bold." The temerarious chicken wore buttons without any clothing!

Chocolate window display season

The seasons are observed here primarily by fashionable footwear and window displays. We are now solidly into the "absurdities constructed of chocolate" season. (Previously.) The displays either fall into the "embarrassing abundance of chocolate riches" camp:

Everything can be chocolatized: snowmen, chickens, bunnies, eggs, n'importe quoi (simply everything).

... or the "stark and dark but decidedly sumptuous" camp.

Vaguely religious, for those who worship hollow animals made of chocolate.

The displays are delightful.

Hundreds of euros' worth of exquisite chocolates.

I cannot find anywhere --- not even the British specialties importer* --- who has Cadbury minieggs. The European-brand substitute is not the same, does not elicit the taste-memories of late-night problem sets and slogging through slushy snow. I gaze upon a wealth of taste, and miss my lowbrow origins.

This post's theme word is suasion, "the act of urging; persuasion." The particular arrangement on display was the final suasion tempting me into the shop of earthly delights.

*An inexplicable business, here in the heart of France, which imports bland dried and canned food from the UK, and somehow stays open. I admit I patronize them for the oatcakes, so I am supporting the import of inexplicable gustatory horrors into the land of wine, cheese, and bread.

Yule logs

The celebratory Christmas-themed rolled, frosted cake is called a "buche de noël", a Yule log.  

It comes in many flavors, sizes, colors, and options.

It is a fancier, dressed-up, high-quality Twinkie. (I'm guessing. I've never actually tried one, except maybe in French class in the US, so that barely counts.)

The tiny sizes are called "buchettes", loglettes.

This post's theme word is yare, "easily maneuverable, nimble," or "ready, prepared." The logs for Yule are yare. Yare Yule logs, come and get 'em!

Cross-cultural Easter candy landscape

Yet another cultural difference for the records.

I associate Easter with pastel-colored candies (like the iconic Peeps and mini-eggs), Cadbury creme eggs, and whole, solid-chocolate rabbits. Plus seasonal changes, religious mutterings, gradual warming, school holidays, snow melting, and ritually hiding tiny chocolate eggs in challenging locations (sometimes locating last year's outstandingly-secreted eggs at the same time).

The season is already quite warm here; rather, it never got cold enough to trigger my winter-detector. Early flowers have been blooming. The clever French staggered-national-school-break schedule means that my part of the "Easter" vacation is not proximate to the calendar date. (This is done so that "every family gets to take a skiing holiday", avoiding overcrowding schedule conflicts, I am told.)

The big difference --- from my perspective --- is the candy landscape. The various pastel-colored sugar atrocities deeply ingrained by my childhood are not available; the import supermarkets have creme eggs only.

Instead, the French* prefer elaborately crafted chocolate figures. Packaging is pastel-colored, but the edible itself seems to be mostly chocolate (albeit, often white "chocolate" which has been colored). These ornate figures are then whimsically arrayed.

Bunnies figure heavily, as do eggs. But also cats, fish, chickens and roosters (separately; chickens often roosting on an entirely-chocolate nest which itself contains chocolate eggs), pigs, and assorted other childhoodish livestock. (See above: cow, duck, etc.)

 Most unexpectedly, there is a resurgence in giant pyramids and transparent plastic bricks packed with Ferrero Rocher (overflowing its usual calendar-containment zone near Christmas).


This post's theme word is eidos, "the formal sum of a culture, its intellectual character, ideas, etc." The chocolate chicken is no French eidos, but in provides an interesting glimpse into celebratory childhood comestibles.

*or at least, Parisian; or at least, Parisian on-display-near-my-work-and-home-and-throughout-the-metro-area [standord blogging anecdata generalization disclaimer here]

Chocolate exposition

A chocolate exhibit, you say? How could I stay away.

Ramparts built of chocolate-covered marshmallow logs.

The purpose of the exhibition seems twofold: one, sell a lot of chocolate. The giant billboards celebrating this exhibition hall full of chocolate-themed content served as bait, to attract the most chocolate-susceptible crowd. Once inside the hall, the aerosolized chocolate alone could induce drool.

Dalí-inspired chocolate sculpture.

The second purpose was to demonstrate all the non-edible uses of chocolate. These seemed to primarily consist of sculpture.

Ornately dressed chocolate couple. Life sized. Detailed.

Ironically, many of the chocolate sculptures were of food. But no touching, please, and certainly no eating.

A table of sculptures and feast --- all made of chocolate, of course: the gourds, the fish, the plates, the silverware, the owl.

Finally, just a general celebration of chocolate's history and trivia. Again, the audience was exactly right for such a display of information.

Lady Godiva, naked in her fully-chocolatey glory.

This post's theme word is uxorious, "excessively devoted or submissive towards one's wife." If Godiva had been more uxorious, the legend may never have happened.