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Butter, Spirits, and The Beginning of the Day
It’s 5am. Citron tart - Crossant D'or The sun is just beginning to peek over the rooftops of the French Quarter, casting a soft gold over iron balconies and worn brick that has held centuries of stories. I open the door to my balcony, and the air meets me.....thick, warm, and alive. And then it comes. Butter. Not subtle. Not shy. A slow, rich wave of it drifting through the streets, wrapping itself around everything. Croissants somewhere below, just pulled from the oven, laye
LeLa Becker
Apr 233 min read
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