i realize that some of you are currently debating the mental health of a woman so utterly enamored by her lackluster breakfasts, but i can't help myself. and besides, i think i might be letting you in on a secret that you don't know.
i eat stinky cheese for breakfast.
if james and i enjoy a triple-crème after dinner, you can bet your bottom dollar i will be sneaking downstairs in the morning to smear the remainders on a slice of toasty baguette. long before i ever set foot in france, my french godmother would make me stinky tartines for breakfast and i've been hooked ever since.
our favorite stinky cheese shop.
if thinking about tartines has gotten you wanderlusty, head here.
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