A Sunday in Paris

23 09 2012

Sunday, FR Fuggitivi went to Paris.

Since joining the Sunday morning group ride, we’ve crossed bridges, climbed and descended, traversed gravel paths and time trailed. We’ve explored new routes and introduced each other to our favourites. We’ve shared stories of the road and made new friends.

But really, it’s all about the coffee stop. And I don’t even drink the stuff.

The mid-route snack break is a key component in the research for each week’s ride. Precious hours are expended checking websites, online menus, reviews on Urban Spoon and Yelp as well as Google maps to pinpoint the ideal location at which to fuel the journey home.

Ideally it should be independently owned, not part of a multinational chain. There should also be an outdoor seating area. Usually the choice is Italian; Café Divano, Rocanini Coffee Roasters, Mussette Caffée.

Sunday’s initial choice was Italian. But somehow we got diverted to France.

Cafe Faubourg is a Parisien oasis. There is a warren of authentic French bistro chairs in the snail outdoor patio, a tower of colorful macarons decorates the window.

Artful chocolat chaud at Faubourg.

 

The tartelettes look almost too good to actually eat.

The pastries are colorful confections piled high with blueberries, raspberries and custard. The cappuccinos and chocolate chaud are artful. Stepping up to the counter, you’re somehow compelled to place your order in french.

A journey home for Lapierre.

For the Lapierre, it was like a journey home.

For FR Fuggitivi, it was a mid-ride treat unlike any other.

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