From the moment the yeasty scent of freshly baked bread first wafted towards my direction, my nose started leading the way. It took me down a tree-lined side street and into a cute little boulangerie. I contemplated a sandwich, a macaron, or a pain au chocolat but ultimately I was there for the baguette--and that was what I got. The nice French lady handed the baguette wrapped only in a tiny piece of parchment paper to me and to my utterly delighted surprise, it was still warm! Thoroughly excited, though too embarrassed to let it show--I didn't want to seem completely incompetent to the French--I pretty much skipped my way back to my hotel room with a long baguette in hand.
I had to restrain myself from breaking the perfectly golden crust before I made it back into my room, but when I did, it was amazing. The thin crispy crust easily gave way to the soft, tender, yeasty center. I devoured a piece with entire baguette still in hand before remembering the cute glass jar of Nutella I got this morning. Add a smear of nutty, chocolate-y Nutella and you've got heaven in a bite. sigh. I'm loving Paris.