As a teenager, I wanted to be American. An American cheerleader to be exact. I had the pom pom's and all.
As this plan obviously didn't eventuate, I've turned my energies elsewhere.
I now like to believe (pretend) of myself as French, much to the chagrin of one of my Irish girlfriends who believes being Irish is the only way to go.
Embracing my new found obsession county, I celebrated Bastille Day with a beautiful breakfast at a very special place - Le Pain Quotidien
Spending a girl's weekend away in Sydney this weekend, we took the time to visit a place that was a home away from home whilst travelling through Paris (see here). This was the cafe that put the humble oeuf on the top of my "favourite food list".
The egg was just as beautiful, and the coffee, in all honesty, just that little better.