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I caught up on a few DVR recordings tonight. One of them was the episode of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations where he visits Paris.

He went to a bakery at the crack of dawn to talk with a chef who left his position teaching at Le Cordon Bleu to open a bakery with his brother. He's in it for the pure love of bread, and I swear you could almost smell the baguette through the television. I wanted to step through the screen and just touch the crunchy, hot surface of the crust. I wanted to crush the croissant between my fingers and feel the thin sheen of butter. It was mighty fine food porn.

I remember the patisseries of Paris. I remember the tiny grocery stores and cafés. I'd love to go back. It really is one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

I quite like their brand of sensuality and hedonism.

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Twin Peaks: Snoqualmie
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