Trés French on the Upper East Side

Monsieur Francois Payard has many tentacles in the city now. One being across the street from Eric Kayser.

It's a bona fide French ghetto up there.

So if you want ice cream sandwiches with some serious panache...

... or exquisite bonbons, filled with sesame almond praline, raspberry purée or fresh ginger...

And don't forget the vachon, a delectable little number of mixed berry sorbet, sandwiched between two fine licorice-flavored meringues with just a little bit of whipped cream...

well, you know where to go.

Francois Payard Patisserie
1293 Third Avenue at 74th Street

My all-time favorite pralinés

On my recent chocolate tour of Brussels, one divine chocolatier almost escaped me: Laurent Gerbaud.

Thank goodness a lovely woman—a stylish spirit and fellow chocoholic—I met while shopping in one of Ixelle’s boutiques tipped me off to her favorite chocolatier in the city, sending me tout de suite to see what she was clamoring about.

Laurent Gerbaud has been practicing chocolate-making since 2001 but it was only two years ago that he opened his Ravenstein boutique. Like his sensibilities, it’s quiet, clean and modern, but warm and friendly. There’s an austerity to the shop as well as his chocolates, which he makes right there.


Laurent’s strength is taking the best ingredients in the world and letting them sing. “In terms of technique, there’s no secret,” he claims. I don’t necessarily agree. I’ve eaten plenty of poor chocolates, owing to technique. But I can’t argue with his belief that quality ingredients trumps almost everything. “Sometimes I find a good product, but it’s not good enough,” Laurent says.

Indeed. Figs from Izmir, ginger from Guilin, prunes from Corsica…



Cape pears, Persian crandberries, Japanese yuzu…



All simply, elegantly displayed. Admittedly, it can seem a bit boring after the bright lights and hot pink down on the Grand Sablon. But all you have to do is sample one of his chocolates and you fall deep in love.

I became obsessed with his Gare aux Noisettes, the house praliné.

Rich, savory, nutty and gritty, these little bonbons are a blend of roasted, caramelized Piedmont hazelnuts (again, the best in the world), roasted, salted cashews and just a bit of organic sugar, enrobed in a dark (or milk) chocolate shell.

Unlike other pralines where the nuts are ground very finely and consistently, there are larger bits of nuts in Laurent’s, creating a surprising, rich and deep experience. It’s like tasting real peanut butter after a lifetime of eating Jif.

It's like heaven.

A fine day for Mary

Even though it was Jean Neuhaus who invented the praliné 99 years ago and, therefore, stands to define Belgian chocolate, the first stop on a Brussels chocolate tour should be Mary.

The 92-year-old chocolatier has its own history and pedigree, supplying bonbons to the royal family for decades. Their rue Royale boutique, the one Sarah, Jo and I visited last year, is undergoing renovations. So I visited their new boutique in the Galerie de la Reine for this year’s fix.



Les vendeuses at Mary are lovely. “If you need anything, just ask. We are here to inform you,” is how the one girl responded to my appreciation, after having asked her about 100 questions about the chocolates.


But from the caramels and marzipan fillings to the chocolate mousse, ganache and creams, plus the truffles and pralines, I needed some guidance in choosing my bonbons.




In the end, I decided to try something a little different: a raspberry teacake.

It’s a fresh cream filling flavored with raspberry (other varieties include mocha, vanilla or chocolate mousse), topped with a walnut, and then coated in sugar icing.


Sweet is an understatement.

La Folie at La Patisserie des Reves

It’s true: craziness! As this lovely little baked good's name implies, it is sheer madness.

It may not look like much, standing there, properly lined up on the shelf with its peers.

But take it home and tear into it. Madness, I promise you!

The doughy, whipped brioche is densely construed and piped with thick vanilla pastry cream with just a titch of rum raisin.

All topped with praliné crumble and a touch of confectioner’s sugar.

I would kill to have a slice of Conticini’s 66-euro holiday buche.

But for two euro and some change, La Folie one of the best sweets—and craziest deals—I’ve had in a long time.

Dessert Blitz: The Paris Brest

In one month’s time, I will be back in New York. I, of course, have mixed feelings about this. But one thing is for sure: I have a lot of sweets to get through. Today…

Named by the pastry chef who created it in honor of the 1200-kilometer bike race that every four years goes from Paris to Brest and back to Paris again (commonly known as "PBP"), the Paris Brest is a ring of choux pastry, piped full of with praliné-flavored whipped cream.

Meant to resemble a bicycle wheel, it can be espresso-flavored, drizzled in chocolate and nuts, individually sized, or large enough for your dinner party of eight.

Here, Jacques Genin’s light and lovely specimen.

Tell me if there’s anything you want to sample vicariously through me… it would be a honor. And my pleasure.

There is (definitely) something about Mary

Every since I saw a magazine article and photo of the crystal dishes filled with truffles at Mary Chocolatier in Brussels, I’ve wanted to go. So last weekend, I took Sarah and Jo on a death march to find the place.

It wasn’t easy, but it worth it.

The chocolatier and their recipes have been around since 1919. In 1942, King Leopold III gave them the royal seal of approval. Needless to say, plenty of other notable figures—and plebes like us—have traipsed through the doors since then for their pralines, truffles, caramels, ganaches.




Bonbons, tablettes, mendiants, molded marzipan.


The boutique and the packaging were almost as heavenly as the bonbons.

And I made sure I had my fair share.

Pink, sweet and gooey

I’ll confess: what really got me at the Salon du Chocolat wasn’t, in fact, chocolate. It was the buttery brioche chockfull of almonds from Valencia and crushed hazelnuts from Piémont, folded and baked together into this irresistibly warm and gooey treat from 1955 called Praluline.

Every time I’ve walked by Pralus on rue Rambuteau, I’ve been curious about this pink-studded ball beckoning from the window. But un grand roule of heavy bread has always seemed like a big investment for just a little taste.

So imagine my giddiness when I saw the sweet treat at the Salon—and saw them actually making it.

(They start ’em young here in France.)

Rolling out the buttery brioche dough. (Nice forearms, non?)

Folding in the pink praline.

Balling them up for the oven.

And letting them cool (and tempt) until…

…they were diced up for sampling.

I won’t even tell you how many circles I made so I could keep scooping up the petit pieces of heaven. But let’s just say, I left with a full belly. And now know I could easily put away one of the grand roules in a sitting. A great return on investment, for future reference.