A Perfect Moment

I went back to l'Heure Gourmande for lunch. Shannon was taking a little nap. I was hungry, but also determined to try their hot chocolate.

It's overcast and sprinkling today. When the sun is out, they have a crowd of tables outside filled with people. But the cafe hasn't felt congested. It has a healthy number of diners, but not so crazy as to turn off this American (some cafes are a riot of people, and are not appealing for that reason). To remind you, this is the cafe where this table exists.

Missing from the above is the rhubarb pie. I've seen rhubarb products in most boulangeries. Today I ordered what I hoped was chicken with a little side salad. Well, it was chicken, but it was stacked with eggplant and peppers, which would normally be fine, except that to hold it all together they used clear gelatin. There was nothing wrong with the flavor, though I was quite fearful of finding bits of internal organs ala head cheese or the like, but it appeared to be simply layers of thin-sliced chicken with the aforementioned vegetables. Once I got past the uncomfortable gelatin-ness of it, I found it tasted pretty good. For dessert I ordered the hot chocolate, which created this perfect little moment in time.

The chocolate was extremely rich. Like velvet (it was pretty much the equivalent of drinking the chocolate torte on the table above, without the crust, of course, because that'd just get all gummy). The French do not seem to believe in chocolate with anything less than 70% cacao (at least I haven't seen any since being here). I like dark chocolate, but I am looking forward to a little less bitter chocolate when I get home.