C'est (pas trop) dure, la matinée

Meh. Mornings. Joëlle, who's up by 7 o'clock on weekdays has more reason to complain than I do, with my one 9 a.m. class and one at 10:30. Some mornings she leaves me pain au chocolat (two sticks of dark chocolate wrapped in croissant) from Dominique Saibron, a.k.a. my French Lover, officially the baker of the third-best baguette in Paris who also has locations in Tokyo. He just happens to be the corner bakery. No big deal. (He'll get his own post soon.) Anyway, pair that little roll of light flaky joy with a cup of French café out of this little wonder:

And it's already a good day.

I eat this petit dejeuner des champions at the kitchen table. Usually, I forget to turn the light on until after I've finished my coffee, so I sit in the soft light and stare out the kitchen window - the only one with a view of the sky - and look at the blue, or more often indecisive, backdrop. Cohabiting the kitchen with the coffeemaker is the yellow réfrigo.

C'est facile à faire la grasse matinée dans cet apart :)