Last Saturday I was full of the morning energy you get when you've been laid up all week and then you put on a bra and leave the house and go shopping. Then you trip over your feet at the grocery and land on your knees and then your chin and then your nose. Then when you recover you think, I'm going to go buy palmiers at La Bonne Bouchée and also an extra treat for me, la LAH, because I am a survivor.
The lovely counter person served up my palmier, and listened as I mourned that they have no canelé.
Ah canelé. I fell in love with them in Paris, then had a bad one in Quebec City. (So bad I left it on a railing for the local birds.) It's essentially a caramel-coated condensed popover, but better.
The counter person said,"Oh, I go to Nathaniel Reid Bakery for canelé. And they have them at Sucrose, and La Patisserie Chouquette might have them. I like the ones at Nathaniel Reid best. I go there a lot." Three places with canelé driving distance from my house! One not five miles away!
Half an hour later, the counter person at Nathaniel Reid confirmed that the counter person at La Bonne Bouchée came there regularly. I promptly went back to La Bonne Bouchée, and thanked the counter person for hooking me up by giving her one of my spare canelé.
Sucrose though, the one by me, has the best canelé. I was just a touch sweeter than Nathaniel Reid. When I had Anne join me in a canelé taste test that evening, Nathaniel Reid looked more imposing and professional, but had developed a gummy interior, whereas Sucrose stayed tender.
It was so good I might not even visit La Patisserie Chouquette this weekend to see if they also have canelé.