Sharing bread with Macron
There is something almost embarrassingly predictable about loving Paris. Everyone does. Tourists swarm it, Instagram has colonized every corner, and here we are again - Rita and I - walking the Paris streets in early April with the giddiness of people who really ought to know better. We have long since lost count of our visits. At some point the city stopped being a destination and turned into something more like a habit. A good one. Not a growth journey, not an opportunity to discover who we really are at depth - just a place where we reliably feel more like ourselves than we do most other places. This spring we have rented an apartment in the 14th and early today we went by one of our local boulangeries, Fournil Didot, where a baker named Sithamparappillai Jegatheepan - who came to France from Sri Lanka, spent years making macarons, and somehow ended up making the best french bread. In 2026 he has demonstrated his abilities by winning the Grand Prix de la Baguette, which ...