Escorted with a heavy dusting of snowy precipitation and countless delays across the commuter train network, the return to work was of utmost wretchedness.
A high ceiling, tall glass panes, and two forms of illumination yielded the impression of spaciousness - a clean, minimal design to summon organic thoughts, and a place for creative juices to flow freely. No more than several small tables surrounded a concrete pillar. Delicate pastries and a row of beans adorned one shelf, while bakery items were positioned in a separate display case.
Owing to the owner's Middle Eastern roots, saffron and cardamom additions were also listed on the menu, along with tea and espresso-based offerings. Given the tranquility during the lunchtime period, I opted for an off-the-menu twist: A Latte with Vanilla Syrup (from vanilla pods!) and a sprinkle of scarlet cardamom. The result was a comforting, foamy blend with a slightly bitter aftertaste, which I later found to be the ideal complement to their array of baked goods.
Notwithstanding this statement, the Financier was truly the pièce de résistance. Absolutely phenomenal with a fine crumb and smooth, crisp surface, it was precisely the epitome of French pastries in the city. Elevating its profile was a seemingly matte chocolate ganache on its underside, which was initially firm to touch, but then moist and gooey upon biting - truly a taste of the heavens.
(Mind you, I ultimately chucked the buttermilk for vanilla yogurt.)