I dream of....

...Paris. Constantly since returning from my trip last fall.  Everywhere I go there are little reminders of Paris that jump out at me. That city is in my blood now. One day I will go back to that magical place and explore more of its crevices (Lord knows there are plenty) but for now I rely on a lush bistro in Beverly Hills to take its place.

On a perfectly clear Sunday afternoon, I met my friend in the cleanest city within Los Angeles County for brunch at Bouchon. For two weeks, LA foodies have a opportunity to visit numerous restaurants for several fixed price menus - it's called dineLA week (it happens several times a year). 

The soup of the day was butternut squash soup with a hint of cream and cranberries. Delicate and smooth, the soup danced in your mouth like pale orange velvet. 

The croque madame - deja-vu, being back in Paris, enjoying the very same sandwich on St. Germain. French fries, crisp and perfectly salted.

And for dessert, a pot de creme with orange gelee and vanilla sugar-coated shortbread.  If culture dictated that licking inside the little pot would be acceptable, I gladly would've done so. Smooth, light and layers of citrus and vanilla perfumed your palette with every spoonful.  Looking forward to returning there soon for dinner, until then, au revoir.