August 13, 2023

My dearest,

You tell me that there is a new Saint Etoile where you just had dinner. I suggest getting some buns for your breakfast and teatime tomorrow. You reply, just the one, for brekkie.

I wonder what you bought.

Certainly not the popular Honolulu bread, too fluffy and light for you. Nor the bouncy dorayaki filled with thick adzuki paste; too sweet, this.

A milk cream coronet? Too much dairy. Crisp baguettes? Too crunchy, too plain.

One of the croissants, perhaps: buttery or whole wheat, sesame or cheesy, or the black-and-white zebra croissant? Too many choices.

There are doughnuts and waffles. Almond twists and cheese sticks. Pork floss buns, of course, but also English croque monsieur (aren’t these French though?).

Something meaty, maybe? The ham and champignon bun or the “long wiener boat” (not a joke; this is the bread’s real name!)… or maybe not.

My favourite has to be the pork curry bun, and yours the double cheese roll. Is that what you bought for breakfast tomorrow?

No, don’t tell me now. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow. Let’s keep it a mystery for now.

Love and bread are better that way: mysterious and all the more desirable for it.

Yours, ever and always.