Now i can redeem myself.

Last year or something, a couple charming old merkin tourists had apparently decided the second class junk of chocolate sold at the local bakery was delicious. Bought lot of the stuff, all the time.

I never could resolve myself to tell the poor souls that no, this isn't good, and drop that junk, and come with me to hévin. I just suffered silently waiting for my baguette.

Then again, i'm not sure the advice of an unsetlingly intense young man popping out of nowhere and ordering you to go to rue st honoré _right now_ would have been welcomed. They'd just would have tried they best french to appease the weirdo and make me go away. "Don't worry martha, he doesn't look violent". The horror.

Oh unknown nuyorican, oh minessotan, oh somethingelseagainan, you never knew of far you strayed from the path of real chocolate, and now you're gone, and i didn't help!

Besides, my baker would have hated me, he made heaps of money with them. Damn him.

Now i can redeem myself, thanks to the magic of blogs, and to eszter at crooked timber.

People! Don't go to the local bakery to buy chocolate! Go buy the orange confite slice dipped into dark chocolate at hévin instead! And ye who enter there, abandon, by the way, all hope of moderate prices! Hear my words, for they are the truth!