Crème Brûlée

Description

Scarf tightened and coat buttoned to the collar, a seat is chosen outside. The opportunity of enjoying some hot tea amidst a Parisian Winter street scene is impossible to pass up. Silky caramel tea is sipped with a biting breeze, its amber shades an oasis of warmth against the cobblestones of silver and blue. The contrast is achingly beautiful – but contemplation is cut short by the sharp crack of an old woman breaking the top of her crème brûlée with a small silver spoon. She doesn’t eat it right away, but instead she stares at the burned sugar and bright yellow custard, then to the street around her. Softly she says something to herself in French. You don’t entirely understand, but then again you probably do.

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