This Sunday, which followed a Saturday consisting of a 9 mile run, cleaning the house, shopping, grocery shopping, cooking, having a gigantic Mexican themed fiesta chez nous, and going out, I awoke anxious and dreading the start of another long Monday. So I decided to find a purpose: discover a soy latte in Paris that is not from Starbucks. For those of you who don't know Paris that well, this is actually a difficult quest.
I did some research and came across Rose Bakery (originally in the 9th, now also in the 3rd). People raved about its coffee (yes, even soy lattes), brunch, pastries, and lunch. I also read they had internet. Of course this bakery is of Anglo heritage and sells organic granola, chocolate, gluten free goodies and other things the States have in abundance. Where else in Paris would I find a soy latte but at an English cafe?
Sunday to-do achieved: Go to the Rose Bakery, eat a pastry, drink a soy latte, read, work, be happy.
If only I could find it. I wandered around the area--computer, snacks, and book in tow--completely mystified with a map glued to my face. Paris streets have a way of appearing, disappearing or just curving into obnoxiously contrived directions. Rue Debelleyme (located in a very trendy part of the 3rd) was shaped like a small half moon behind a few main streets and an intersection. Not to mention it has the most unassuming entrance without a sign, or address. But I found it. Of course it is packed, and it is more of a talk-and-laugh-loudly-with-friends cafe than a relax-in-a-cozy-chair-tout-seul cafe. My heart sank--all I had been wanting was to make the most of my solitary day with a fat muffin, book, and my happy place (soy latte).
Despite my moroseness, Rose Bakery is actually a very cool looking place. Squeezed in-between very expensive clothing stores, its simple, yet breathtaking all glass front leads into a narrow one roomed restaurant full of noisy patrons and small tables pushed to the left. They are pushed to the left because the counter encompasses the entire right side. And what is left in the middle? A walkway the width of my two feet. There are actually tables in the kitchen, that is how squeezed this place is. Not much room for cozy chairs.
The wait is too long for me to muster, and besides, I would be the only person in the entire jovial one room alone, on a computer, or reading. This Rose Bakery is the place to go with friends, to eat, drink and be merrily squeezed on top of everyone else who is with friends, eating, drinking and being merry. Since I was basically sitting on tables while waiting for one, I had the opportunity to smell and take in everyone's meals. The brunch smelled hearty and wonderful, and the bread looked perfect--too thick for French bread though, must be an English recipe.
The bakery is famous for their cakes, particularly the carrot. I overheard some say that the "icing was to die for," and it looked delectable. I also saw pancakes and some amazing looking salads. I decided to grab a pastry to-go and head to a Starbucks...at least I tried. I landed on a fig bar, which looked like the offspring of a fig newton and berry crumble. I asked for a slice (just a little one) and it ended up costing me 6.50 euro. For a fig bar. I almost died.
After winding my way through the 3rd, taking in the sales and throngs of people out on Sunday, I arrived at a Starbucks. The line was out the door. So I just ended up grabbing a seat, pulling out my book, and giving up on my quest for a soy latte. Guess I know what I am doing next Sunday.
(The bar wasn't bad. Tasted like a fig-newton with granola on top. Good but nothing special. Ari also said she had been and the food was overpriced, but good.)
So the question remains, to ditch or make another go at the Rose? If I go I am definitely bringing a large, extremely happy group of friends.
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