Never one to have possessed a substantial sweet tooth, I’ve never been a huge fan of pastries or desserts. Oh, I enjoy a good dessert every now and then (as long as it’s not too sweet), believe me. But when it comes right down to it, for those kinds of calories I get more enjoyment out of a different culinary experience altogether: a big, juicy steak comes to mind. Given a choice between some decadent dessert or a perfectly cooked steak, I will pick Monsieur Bœuf each and every time.

In France, however, one must make an exception and veer off course to experience that light, airy, buttery goodness known as le croissant. And in Paris, the best croissants I’ve ever had are had on rue Cler in the seventh arrondissement, under the sign reading Artisan Boulanger Pâtissier.

(Note: Any pâtisserie having the word artisan on the signage considers themselves to be exactly that: artisans or artists of their craft, and pretty proud of their work. In this case, it’s justified.)

You’ll have no trouble spotting the pâtisserie, not only because it’s across the street from Café du Marché, another one of our favorite places, but because of the line patrons that frequently spills out into the cobblestone, pedestrian-only street.

And their croissants are to die for. Almost crunchy on the outside, let light, airy, and buttery on the inside. I had quite a few croissants this last go-round in Paris, having one for breakfast most mornings. While it’s true a week’s time exploring what the city had to offer is far from a conclusive sample, every other croissant left me wanting more. Alot more. As if settling for the offerings of some other boulangerie or pâtisserie was, well, akin to picking one up at Kroger.

* * *

Newly indoctrinated into the world of Cuban cigars, I wasn’t about to leave Paris and squander an opportunity to see what the French capital had to offer.

While doing a little research of Parisian cigar shops prior to my trip, I discovered a place called A la Civette (157 Rue St. Honoré, 1er), just a block from the Louvre, and (lucky me), only a slight distance further from my apartment. A la Civette has been open since 1716, and boasts a customer list that has included Casanova, Voltaire, Churchill, and Michael Jordan.

Petit Pont, Paris.

The first time I went to A La Civette I had to abort the mission, since a small film crew was about to interview someone at the shop. I then turned my attention to Tabac George V (22 rue George V) in the 8th, not far from the Champs-Elysées and the Arc de Triomphe.

The lady at Tabac George V was very nice, although I relied on my French since I was quite certain she didn’t speak a word of English. Quelque chose douce, quelque chose pas trop chère (“Something mild, something not too expensive”), I had practiced again and again.

I left the shop with a Hoyo de Monterrey Epicure No. 2 each for Ian, Mike and myself, along with a Romeo y Julieta Short Churchill, Ramon Allones Specially Selected, and an El Rey del Mundo Gran Corona. Which is a nice way of saying I am good in the cigar department for the next 3 to 5 years, at least.

Before I left Paris I did return to A La Civette, sans film crew and interviewer. They have quite the impressive walk-in humidor, and one of the salesman approved of my choice of the Hoyo de Monterreys over some H. Uppmans.

* * *

Paris is an expensive city. Now more than ever for those of us from the States, given the dollar’s decline versus the euro in recent years. But I did manage to find one raging bargain for the Parisian beer lover.

Quai Saint Michel, Paris.

On the hip and bustling rue de Buci in the 6th arrondissement, I found a little dine in / take out Japanese restaurant just east of rue de Seine. Not only can you get sushi or a decent (albeit informal) dinner for under ten bucks, they sell bottles of Kirin Ichiban there for €2, which is less expensive than I’ve ever paid for it in a sushi restaurant here in Dallas, or for any beer in Paris, for that matter. Beer lovers unite!

~kp~