Today I used a lovely playdate at one of our favorite playgrounds on Rue de Bac as an excuse to return to La Pâtisserie des Rêves (translation: Pastry Shop of Dreams. And is it ever). The beautiful weather had clearly drawn out the Septieme's carboholics; the place was fairly cleaned out. Still, I spotted somethin I had not previously seen or heard of: the Ceylan.
The salesclerk was sure to, beaming, display the pastry to me before she closed the box, and now I know why: I would never see it so perfect again. After two attempts to adopt Conticini pastries, the verdict is in: despite their best efforts (pretty neon toothpicks anchored in styrofoam, attempting to hold the pastry in place) Patisserie des Reves' creations just do not travel well. I should have photographed the poor Ceylan in the store, because just look at it now...

Another exquisitely rich and layered creation from Conticini. I really hadn't planned to eat the whole thing, but... uh oh.
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