France is a land of marvelous patisseries, many of which I have sampled in the recent past. When I think of the vibrant colors of the macaron, the delicate layers of the millefeuille, and the swirling towers of the Saint Honoré, I can not help but dream of better days than those I live now in this hell-hole of an American city.
That is why I am so deeply diappointed in the traditional French Christmas cake, La bûche de Noël, which is shaped like a log and ornamented with plastic santas, plastic elves, and the occasional faux-mushroom.
I expected more from the nation that brought us so many fine patisseries with delicate flavors and clean lines.
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