Proof that deep down, for all of the different cultures, habits, and nationalities, we really are all the same.
Or at least that, no matter where a filthy, unwashed car is parked around the world, some small child or artistic soul will inevitably come around to write on it.
Today’s long walk around the neighborhoods in the North of the city yielded a few fun photos. I’ll share some more in another post.
Oh, and you should know:
Homemade croissants-while really, really delicious really do remind me more of Pillsburry Dough Boy cans than Paris, France (albeit sans fake-food taste).
I think these are a little more suited for a ham and cheese sandwich than a pretty plate and a nice cup of coffee. It was a fun experiment but I don’t think I can open up a bakery with these little buttery rolls anytime soon.
I felt slightly artsy/sentimental getting the shot of my mom and I behind the croissants. It’s one of my favorite pictures (she’s not running from the camera in it) and I keep it in the kitchen along with a shot of Chris’ mom–my two favorite cooks in the whole world.