This morning, I had a rather exciting experience with boulangerie. After eating a sparse but healthy breakfast, I needed something fluffly and full of carbs to fill my tummy. I poked my nose into the boulangerie across the street to find something delicious that wouldn’t send me on a sugar high. That’s a tall order around here some times. While I waited in line, my eyes grazed across the rows of patisserie and brioche. Then I spotted something in a basket on the counter: “Tonipain, 1,40.” They looked like giant round. . . dog biscuits. “C’est sucré?” I asked the shopkeeper skeptically: “Is it sweet?” She gave me the sales pitch: made of cereals (whole grains) with no added fat and no added sugar, just dried fruits for flavor. “Is it as good as a brioche?” No, but it’s healthy. After having spent the morning doing crunches for the first time in over a year, I thought the trend might be worth keeping up. I shelled out the euro forty and tucked the tonipain into my purse. I planned to eat half now, and half during break from classes. Well, we all know what happens to the best laid plans of mice and men. After my first bite, I wanted to cry. The tonipain was perfect. The natural sweetness of the grains felt fresh and wholesome, like a farmhouse kitchen on a sunlit morning. The dried fruits were exotic, with rich, subtle flavors and little bursts of citrus. The biscuit was a little firm on the outside, but the perfect balance between doughy and cottony on the inside. Never had I had bread with tastes like this: they danced across my tongue. After five minutes of blissful nibbling, my tonipain was gone. Now all I have to do is justify spending a euro forty every morning for breakfast . . .