I must confess that I am a creature of habit. I like exploring, but I thrive on routine. Like Gustave Flaubert, I ascribe to the idea of being “regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.”1 To this end, I like taking the same walk every day.
Of course, whether in a city or the country, even the same walk isn’t always the same. Every day, things change. The weather, the people, the plants, the animals. There are always surprises.
As I settle back into Parisian life, or rather, as I try to—so far I’m not having much luck—I’m trying to reconnect with my habits. When my life is functioning well, I usually try to go for a walk every day for my physical and mental health. Most days, without thinking, I take some variation of the same one-hour loop.
In a recent post, I believe I mentioned that I live in the Marais near Les Halles. There are many wonderful culinary shops in the neighborhood, and sometimes I go inside one of them to look. Someday I’d like to find out what kind of desserts I can make with yuzu, violet, or poppy flavoring. I wonder, does the poppy taste like poppy seeds? Or like the flower? I wouldn’t mind trying to make a madeleine the size of a child’s head (mould pictured above), perhaps for a Proust-themed dinner party. Maybe one flavored with jasmine or rose?
