I was walking along a street of Paris near Place de la Republique with some friends when we suddenly stopped in our tracks and looked at each other with something near rapture and said, “Butter!” The delicious fragrance wafted through the air from the nearby boulangerie and tempted us inside where we indulged in some delicious baked goods. It’s too hard to pass up some of those offerings found in Paris and, usually, it doesn’t matter which shop you happen to wander into, although there are a few much better than others. I don’t usually like the sweet things in our boulangerie down the street but their bread is always good.

These old signs are often seen on boulangeries from the last century.

This was on the back wall. I like the family feel.

One of my first memories of living is France is walking into our neighborhood boulangerie and seeing the bread sticking up behind the lady behind the counter.

5 thoughts to “Boulangerie”

  1. That is one of my most vivid memories of summers in France, too. Running down to a little boulangerie in the morning and standing in a room full of freshly baked bread and nothing else. I’m a breadaholic these days, and I blame summers in France.

  2. Oh YUM! I so miss the bakeries and baked goods of Europe and Japan! There is nothing even close here, so I’ve taken up bread making. But your photos and words have transported me to another place, another time. Thanks!!

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