HIGH CLASS CONFECTION

At some point every couple of weeks or so, I'll find myself lost wandering nonchalantly through a posh area of Paris (no, not all areas of Paris are posh, promise), and will stumble across what I can only describe as an haute couture chocolate shop. This shrine to hedonism distinguishes itself from the normal riffraff of plain old amazing French chocolate shops by the addition of ridiculously too good to eat chocolate art.

With Easter approaching, there is already a torturous assortment of chickens, rabbits (and for some reason I can't fathom, gnomes...one chocognome I recently spotted was meant to have a chococarrot in his chocohand, except that it had sort of slipped down to his choconetheregions and he was looking pretty excited about Easter is all can say) in the window of pretty much every other patissier. Meanwhile, the High Class chocolate simply get on with their weird and wonderful creations as part of the day to day showing off, and they might chuck in the odd chicken to prove they're paying attention.

Yesterday night, while displaying my astute knowledge of the layout of inner Paris ('where the hell we NOW? And where's the putain de metro station gone?') to a visiting friend, we found ourselves (intentionally of course) on the impossibly chic Rue Saint Honore (think Cartier), I passed by the creme de la creme of all the chocolate concoctions I've seen thus far. A giant exotic bird made of dark and white chocolate with a chocolate waterfall in the background. Wonder if they've managed to scrub my nose print off the glass yet?