It was a gorgeous Sunday in Paris, and after a run, I had just passed Centre Pompidous and was heading towards my main destination L’As du Fallafel in the Marais, when I did a double take at a pastry shop called François Pralus. I wasn’t sure if I had seen correctly, but in the window display were huge, puffy loaves of what looked like bread with little bits of pink chips. That was my cue to go in and buy whatever this was – a Praluline, a brioche with Valencia almonds and Piedmont hazelnuts coated in rose sugar and then cracked. Aka crack money.
