Coffee in Paris?

I used to dream of sitting in a café in France, drinking coffee, looking fabulous, and be adoringly gazed at by my lover.

Unlike most of my teenage fantasies, this one actually came true; although this particular post is less about the lover and ALL about the coffee.

France exceeded all my expectations when it comes to caffeine. I did not have a bad coffee. Each mouthful of each insanely cheap and exquisitely flavoured espresso I drank was pure joy.

I kid you not.

My very first coffee in Paris was in the Louvre:
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My primary motivator for patiently waiting for my husband and son to savour the Louvre was because I knew there was coffee at the end. I enjoyed the art and was awed by the sense of history in Louvre…but I loved the coffee there more.

Not only was the coffee magnificent, French wait staff make hospitality an art. Wherever we went, the staff gave us the feeling of being welcomed in to the warmth (We were there in December. Warmth was important.)

notre dame
(Notre Dame)

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(somewhere near the Eiffel Tower)

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Honourable mention to the hot chocolates in France (and Italy actually). Thick, luxurious, decadent and delicious.

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(Aix-en-Provence) The dark brown, almost black liquid in the little jugs in the photo above is the chocolate base for the hot chocolate. Warm cream is in the other jugs. Mix, stir and delight in the sugary, chocolatey, creamy goodness.

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(near the French/Italian border)

France and Italy ruined us for coffee and hot chocolate anywhere else.

A delightful ruination.