Why I Get Into Trouble

I'm sitting here, writing this from project hampden. It's coming along nicely and I've stopped trying to rush things along since the holiday season is over and we missed it.

Today the final granite counters were installed. Tan Brown. Looks quite nice. Suddenly, the place is looking real. Like maybe we might be able to open. Soon.

Which is when the detour wants to happen.

Alex and Aki, on their Ideas in Food Blog noted the release of Paris Patisseries where they relate that you might just jump on a plane to Paris. Oh God, how I wish.

Suddenly, my mind is filled with schemes to hop a United flight out of IAD to CDG for a weekend excursion. My room at the Hotel Eiffel Park is waiting. That little patisserie on the Rue de Grenelle will have those delicious almond croissants for me. Stephane Secco will have my baguette at the ready, and next door Bellota Bellota's Jamon Iberico can be had freshly sliced.

I see myself gazing longingly at the wonderful Laguiole knives and corkscrews at the fly fishing shop on the Rue de Grenelle on the way to the metro La Tour Maubourg, drinking coffee in the Marais at Soluna Cafes, and finally visiting that mysterious olive purveyor by the Canal St. Martin. Later, it's shockingly expensive macarons at Pierre Herme and a late night dinner at Robert et Louise where, if I stay past closing, I hope that they'll invite me to screw French law and enjoy my cigar at my table.

Yes, jetting off on a weekend holiday to Paris is reckless and sure to augur financial ruin when on the verge of opening a new shop, but Paris is a tempting mistress and I struggle to resist. Maybe my Sugar Mama will oblige me and jet me off to Paris via London in Virgin Atlantic's Upper Class Suite where I can gingerly sip Sapphire Tonics at the bar, crunching my ice cubes lovingly, all the way across the Atlantic and back.

Instead, I'll probably remain at project hampden eating cold, leftover pizza and ice tea chilled by the exterior door because it's that cold outside...