An icy wind is rattling my window this morning, ready to blast me in the face and toss my hair frantically the moment I step out the door.

It reminds me a of a particularly cold, blustery day in Paris when all I wanted was a cup of something warm to wrap my fingers around.

I chose a marvelous quiche chock full of spinach, cheese and roasted chicken, and a piping hot cup of chocolat chaud – real hot chocolate with melted chocolate and foamy steamed milk. Delectable on such a cold morning. Amy found a marvy looking sandwich – smoked salmon, cream cheese and thinly sliced cucumber on a fresh baguette – and a hot cup of tea with milk. We found the perfect perch on wooden bar stools overlooking the street and had our morning dose of people-watching while we visited away and made plans for the day.

Parisian hot chocolate is so different than the lovely little packets of powder and petrified marshmallows we dump into styrofoam cups over here. Those packets are splendid in their own way. Many a camping trip, ski outing and caroling jaunt has been made bearable and delightful by their presence.

Parisian hot chocolate is made with real, dark chocolate, chopped into tiny bits that melt easily into the hot milk. It is served unsweetened and I like that. The steaming beverage is pure chocolatey, milky goodness accompanied by narrow little red envelopes of sugar for each person to sweeten to taste.

Once fortified and warmed by our bevvies and food, Amy and I bundled up again and walked to the Palais Royale to relive scenes from our beloved Audrey Hepburn movie, Charade.

They even had a little black dress exhibition!

I have a stack of dark chocolate I’ve been hoarding in my pantry. This afternoon I’ll be chopping, stirring and sipping while I dream of Paris.